Fic: Paper Houses, chapters 7 & 8
Paper Houses 7&8/10
Uta no Prince-sama x La Corda d' Oro crossover
Jinguji Ren/Hijirikawa Masato, Tsuchiura Ryoutarou/Tsukimori Len
written for Small Fandoms Bang 2016 - round 5
written for Trope Bingo round 6, for the prompt/trope square 'marriage'
MASTER POST
chapters 5 & 6
7.
To proclaim that he's bone-tired will be an understatement. Ren doesn't remember his own wedding being so exhausting. Or is it because he's in his mid-40's and not as robust and resilient as he used to? Well, he can pretty much last in bed, that's for sure. But sex is different. And getting constantly herded around by an adamant wedding planner is different.
Cool air hits his face as soon as he steps out of the main house. He digs into his pocket for the cigarette case, took a stick and tucks it between his lips. He's broken out of this habit a long time ago, but with all the stress he's accumulating lately, he can sure use one. It's fortunate that he's been able to bribe Tokiya in buying him a pack and keeping it a secret from Masato. He fishes out his lighter and lights the damn thing.
Alone at last, he thinks as he moseys toward one of the outer gardens but his solitary contentment quickly dissolves when he walks around the hedge. The sight that greets him is near similar to an invisible wall he collides against, so unexpected that his jaw drops in shock, the lit cigarette tumbling down the ground in the process.
Taiki and Ryusei are locked in an embrace - an intimate one, Ren notes - with Taiki's face buried in the curve of Ryusei's neck. When Taiki lifts his head, his gaze immediately lands on Ren, unadulterated terror sparking on his purple-blue irises. He untangles his arms from Ryusei and jumps back in rapid succession, which triggers Ryusei to pivot around, his eyes growing wide upon seeing Ren.
As soon as the abominable scare visibly wears off, Taiki leans close enough to whisper in Ryusei's ear then moves towards Ren and lowers half his body in a courteous bow. "I'll be on my way, Ren-ojisan," he says before leaving.
Cold tension reverberates between him and his son until Ryusei breaks the ice. "Aren't you going to say something, Papa?"
Ren blinks stupidly at his son, unable to whip up a clever remark. He presses the tip of his boots on the cigarette stick lying on the grass longer than necessary, just to keep him preoccupied. Though he's still feeling the awful uneasiness prickling his skin, he finally looks at his son. "Sorry. I was just caught by surprise. How long have you and… and… you know."
A pensive smile plays on Ryusei's lips. "About seven months."
Seven months. That long? Ren wonders where he'd been while this is being forged into his son's life. Then he recalls having been gone most of the past year, which is one reason why his marriage and his relationship with his children have been spiraling out of his control.
"I see." There is a question lingering on Ryusei's eyes, one that's clear and easy to read, so Ren says, "I'm not against the idea of you two together. And I believe you know what you're doing so I'm not going to give you a lecture. You're old enough, Ryuchan."
The corners of Ryusei's mouth curl up then he releases a breath he's probably been holding and says, "Thanks, Papa." He points at the now unlit cigarette on the ground. "I thought you quit smoking."
"I did," Ren says, not bothered that his son has caught him red-handed. "I just take a stick at times when I'm under a lot of stress."
They're wrapped in momentary reticence, Ryusei watching him with Masato's eyes. Not in a scrutinizing way, no. More like assessing him, concern pooling in those deep-blue orbs. He looks so much like Masato now more than ever. Though his hair is darker in shade and has a different style, shorter than his mother's, with fringes long enough to partially cover his left eye. Three miniscule beauty marks sit near the left corner of his mouth, which Mariko refers to as Orion's belt since they're strategically arranged like the constellation.
Concern visibly shifts to worry as lines start to form on Ryusei's forehead. He cocks his head to the side and asks, "Do you want to talk about it?" in measured enunciation that makes Ren titter.
Funny how their roles seem to have been reversed, how Ryusei seems to be the adult one in this scenario. But then Ren deduces that being open to his son isn't a bad idea after all. They haven't done this in a while - talk, that is - so he decides to take Ryusei up on his offer. "As long as you promise not to give me a lengthy lecture that smoking is bad for my health," he jests, beckoning Ryusei to come closer with his a jerk of his head.
"I don't think I have to," Ryusei says with a soft laugh while he advances with unflappable, unhurried strides.
When his son is close enough, Ren hooks an arm over his shoulders then leads him further into the garden. "You've grown taller," he notes out loud.
Ryusei slants his eyes to him, one brow raised in a perfect arch. "You talk as if you haven't seen me in ages."
Considering he rarely gets to see his nineteen-year-old son for the past year since Ryusei has been caught up in the whirlwind of theatrical arts, he says, "It does feel like ages since I last spent time with you."
The smile Ryusei's been wearing falters and the light in his eyes dim. Ren reckons he may have opened a can of worms and mentally berates himself for being tactless. "Look Ryusei," he starts, deciding to grab this chance to finally have a heart-to-heart talk with his son. "I'm sorry for not having enough time for you, for not being able to see your plays, for not being there-"
"Papa, stop." Ryusei's shaking his head. "I'm not looking for an apology. And it's perfectly alright that you weren't able to see my shows. Not that I expected you or Mama to be there, to be honest." He keeps a cautious gaze on Ren, like maybe he's gauging whether he will be hurt by those words. When Ren nods in encouragement, Ryusei's lips stretches into a faint smile. "None of the other actors had any of their parents present either. It would have been embarrassing, you know."
"Strange but I had this exact same conversation with Hideaki the other day and he said the exact same thing you just did." Ironically, Ren can relate. He didn't have to worry about the same problem back when he started out in the entertainment industry since his parents weren't around anymore but he's pretty sure that if his mom would have been alive, she would've been by his side all the time and that would've been… well, humiliating to some degree. He can just imagine how Ryusei felt back then with Masato always shadowing him.
"Just don't let your Mama hear that." Ren tousles Ryusei's midnight blue locks with his fingers. "Although I don't think anything would've stopped him from being there for you. And Hideaki. And Mariko."
Ryusei rolls his eyes. "You have no idea. I mean, I love Mama, but I wish he'd stop treating me like I'm still twelve."
"Good luck with that," Ren says with a snort. "But you know how he'd been deprived of support from your grandpa and grandma during our STARISH days. We both were, but…."
Another taciturn moment descends upon them, broken only by a gentle wind swirling past, showering them with cherry blossom petals. The sky opalesces from warm yellow to a deep orange hue, clouds drifting across like silken brocade.
Once they reach the small bridge that curves over a brook, Ryusei's step ceases. "So how are things with Mama?"
The pre-programmed or automatic response seems to be a rise of his shoulders whenever asked about this despite expecting that this will somehow be a usual part of their casual discussion. And much as Ren would like to believe he has made progress, there's still the element of uncertainty weighing him down so his reply is an obscure, "Still working on it. But we're getting there."
Ryusei leaves the circle of his arm to lock gazes with him, his eyes brimming with such headstrong devotion. "Don't give up on him, okay? I know how much you two love each other."
"Not planning to, don't worry." Ren slides his hands into the pockets of his jacket and watches his son rock on the balls of his feet.
His paternal intuition spikes up that he can almost hear the wheels in Ryusei's head turning; can sense that something's brewing even before Ryusei stutters out, "Papa, I uh…" and starts gnawing at his bottom lip. So he's not at all taken aback when Ryusei finally blurts out, "I'm thinking of moving out, get an apartment in Tokyo, somewhere near my agency's office and at the heart of most theaters and rehearsal halls."
The temptation to ask if Ryusei plans to share a living space with someone in particular prances around his head, but Ren thinks that's a question for another day so he instead he asks, "Have you told your Mama yet?"
Ryusei responds with a curt twist of his head. He parts his lips but whatever comes out is drowned by Otoya's vociferous holler of, "Ren! I've been looking for you!" that echoes across the premises.
"I'll talk to him," Ren manages to utter and gives Ryusei a reassuring pat on his shoulder. His eyes skip to Otoya, who jogs over to them with several DVD cases in his hands. "What is it, Ikki?"
"Look, Ren. Natsuki brought over some collection of our shows when we were STARISH," Otoya says, his face lit with youthful vivacity that never ceases to amaze Ren. "You wanna come watch?
The thought of viewing their younger selves on a huge screen while huddled with their family sends a mortifying shiver down Ren's spine. "What for? To embarrass ourselves in front of our children?"
"Oh c'mon, Ren. It will be fun," Otoya whines and it's when he's bordering close to immaturity that Ren forgets he actually has children and Ren has to remind himself that this man happens to be the mother of the boy Ryusei is dating.
"Do I have a choice?" Ren can foresee that once he gets inside the villa, Otoya, Natsuki and Syo will gang up on him so he might as well acquiesce. He casts his son a prudent look. "Do you want to watch your parents in their finest humiliating experience?"
Ryusei barks a laugh and raises his hand to toss his fringe back with his fingers. "I'd love to, but I promised Mama I'll help him prepare dinner."
"Good boy," Ren says, feeling relieved somehow, and he takes Ryusei back in a one-arm hug while they trail after Otoya towards the main house.
*
*
The alluring silky sound of the saxophone floats across the hallway, guiding Masato to its source. When he steps into the room he shares with his husband, his eyes immediately seek out Ren and he finds him standing in the balcony, back slightly arched, hands curled around the golden instrument.
Masato can't help but stare. The graceful way Ren's fingers sway over the keys has always been captivating. Ren alone is entrancing enough, even in his forties. In fact, he looks almost as he did twenty years ago. Almost. His orange blond hair is shorter now, still long enough to stretch over the nape of his neck, its golden tips falling past his ears. But the rest of him is pretty much like the Jinguji Ren that he married about two decades ago, annoying habits included.
Once Ren is done with the piece, Masato says, "I miss hearing you play," belatedly realizing that his thoughts have formed into words and have escaped his mouth.
A small, rather hesitant smile takes shape on Ren's lips. "Never realized how much I've missed playing this thing." He ambles into the room and straight to the table where his saxophone case lay. Ren is wearing a running shirt and track pants so Masato presumes he's been working out. But playing sax after that is a clear sign that Ren has got a lot on his mind. He does both consecutively only when he's in deep thought. So it's not all too surprising when Ren says, "Listen, Masa, we have to talk," after he has his saxophone safely tucked in its case.
Regardless, Masato's heart skips at the prospect of talking. They've done that countless times since arriving at the villa. But this is undoubtedly the talk they've both been avoiding, the talk they both need to have. "Now?"
"Yes, now," Ren says, steadfast gaze never leaving Masato. "Before we're swept into the wedding chaos."
"We can talk after the wedding," Masato isn't sure why he's stalling. Maybe it's because everything has been thrown off course - his resentment, his impulsive decision to end their marriage, everything - after he and Ren had sex and he's not sure whether to regret that right now or come to terms with the fact that he's still very much in love with his husband.
"No, Masayan. We've put it off for too long already." Ren;s cautious approach as if he's treading on thin wires is painful to watch, specially when he pauses at a considerable distance. "I know we still have underlying problems that we have yet to resolve. If you're thinking of getting a divorce, you can forget about it. I'm not going to let you give up on this marriage and I'm not giving you up either."
Masato's heart stutters at the firm resoluteness shining on Ren's eyes. "I was considering it," he admits and he would've called his lawyer to have him prepare the divorce papers but Mariko has talked him out of it. "But not anymore." Ren lifts an eyebrow, which drives Masato to add, "I'm still upset with you, to be honest. But I've decided to listen to your pathetic excuses, maybe then I can find the right sense to forgive you."
"Pathetic excuses?" A soft, disparaging sound burst through Ren's nose. "They're not excuses, Masayan, and that's actually one of the things I wanted to talk to you about."
Masato cocks an eyebrow at the 'one of the' part, his curiosity brewing. "I'm listening."
Ren's chest rises as he draws in a long, heavy breath. "The reason why I was stuck in Europe for the past five months was because I was in the process of selling the Jinguji family business there and I've been meeting with potential investors then later taking care of the transition to make sure everything goes smoothly." This is news to Masato and he'll probably think it's a hoax had it not been for the serious countenance defining Ren's face at the moment.
"I presume you're brothers are in complete agreement?" One thing Masato has full knowledge of is that Ren, despite having been given the power to run their European branches, does not hold complete authority over the conglomerate and that is the part he's wary about.
"It was actually Seiichirou's idea," Ren says then he takes slow, measured strides to close the distance between them. "He said he wouldn't want to keep sending me there every time there was a problem, which was exactly what had been happening for the past year."
Well, it's a valid reason yet doubt still lingers in Masato's mind. He wonders why Ren didn't just tell him and he's just about to ask when Ren says, "I couldn't tell you then because Seiichirou wanted to keep it confidential for a while and he didn't want our competitors here in Japan to find out," as if he has read Masato's mind.
What Ren probably means is that Seiichirou didn't want Masato's father to find out because his father's company is still technically considered Jinguji Group's rival. He trusts Ren completely and believes his story, though he's tempted to taunt and ask, "Are you sure that's the only reason why you've spent so much time there? Or were you seeing some Italian model on the side?"
Ren bursts into a hearty laugh then he reaches out to grab Masato, his arms coiling around Masato's waist. "I wish that were the case but I don't think I'd be able to set my eyes on anyone else when I have the most beautiful, perfect partner right here."
The impudent insinuation in Ren's words goads Masato to glare at Ren. "You make me sound like a woman." He wraps his arms around Ren's neck then plants a quick peck on his lips. "You said that's one of the things you wanted to talk about. What else do you have in mind?"
Soft, rhythmic knocks followed by Ryusei's voice, saying, "Mama? Papa? You in there?" filters through the door. A frustrated sigh is coaxed out of Masato while he wonders what fate has against them for having their children act as the divine personifications of the celestial imbalance known as ill-timed disruption.
"We're here, Ryusei, and the door's open," he says, stepping out of his husband's embrace.
Their son's head appears through the slightly open door. "Sorry. I hope I didn't interrupt. We're you guys in the middle of something?" he asks with a mischievous sparkle on his eyes.
There's an unspoken rule that they have to be straightforward with their children in certain situations so Masato says, "You did," but at Ryusei's apologetic look, he adds, "It's fine though. Did you need something, Ryu-chan?"
"Nothing important." Ryusei's lips curve up diffidently. "We're playing jinsei and Neechan sent me to ask if you guys want to join."
It's Ren who responds with "Sure, Ryu-chan. You go ahead. Your mama and I will there in a while."
"Okay."
Once Ryusei is out of sight, Ren says, "He's actually one of those I want to talk about," indicating at the door - or their son who has just disappeared behind the door - with his thumb. "Did you know he's seeing Taiki?"
Hearing the incredulity in Ren's voice invokes a knowing smile on his lips. "I do and I think almost everyone that matters knows, except you. You've been away too often. How did you find out anyway?"
Wrinkles form between Ren's eyebrows and the perplexed way he says, "I caught them smooching earlier," incites laughter to bubble up from Masato's chest. "I am never leaving again," Ren says with an exasperated groan.
Masato sneaks an arm around Ren's middle and plants a kiss on Ren's shoulder. "Don't make promises you can't keep," he says with a teasing lilt. "We better go before Mariko sends Hideaki next."
Ren doesn't move an inch. "There's one other thing," he enunciates with evident reluctance and he's evidently dawdling.
"What is it?" Masato urges when seconds stretch longer and Ren doesn't follow up though he has a vague idea that it's still related to their nineteen-year-old son.
"I don't know if I should take the liberty to tell you this," Ren wavers, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, "Or let Ryu-chan come to you but-"
"Is this about Ryusei wanting to move to Tokyo?" Masato knows that he has made the right guess when he catches Ren's dubious reaction and when Ren gawks at him inquisitively, he is compelled to explain. "I overheard him talking to Taiki about it a few weeks ago."
Ren's shoulders visibly relax. "At least that's one weight off my mind."
"I don't think there's anything to worry about." Masato is aware that Ryusei is old enough and taking his chosen career into consideration, moving to Tokyo where he will need to be most of the time is much easier than traveling all the way from Kyoto. "We'll talk to him together. After the wedding. Come on." He grabs Ren's hand and starts pulling him toward the door. "Let's not keep our children waiting."
Except. Ren refuses to move. The sharp and sudden tug at Masato's arm causes him to lose his balance and fall against his husband's solid chest. Ren holds Masato in place and leans close enough to whisper, "Why don't we just stay here and play our own game?" in that deep dulcet tone that never fails to make him tremble with arousal.
The thought of his children waiting for them extinguishes the want building up so he jabs Ren at his side with an elbow and says, "Oh stop it. We'll have time for that later," then sashays out of the room, ignoring Ren's childish whining.
* * * * *
8.
Len drags the bow against the strings with controlled force as he reaches the last verse of the piece. The vibration from the violin soothes him somehow, offers him a sense of peace. Len isn't sure how long he's been playing. He has lost track of time. But judging from how his fingers feel raw and how his shoulders and neck feel stiff, it must have been hours.
It's only after he swipes the bow for the last note did he notice Ryoutarou standing by the doorway. "You're still amazing as ever," he says, hauling his bulk into the music room. He's wearing a shirt too tight that it stretches over his broad chest, the sleeves hugging his corded biceps and seeing him like this makes Len's heartbeat race. "Well, don't stop on my account." Ryoutarou settles on one of the cushioned seats near the window.
The mere thought of having his ex-husband as his sole audience unnerves him so Len whips up a lame excuse and says, "I'm actually done."
"Oh come on." Ryoutarou springs up on his feet and glides toward the piano in long and quick strides. "Tell you what. I'll accompany you if you play Vitali," he says, eyes ablaze with the usual stubborn perseverance.
Knowing that any protest will go on deaf ears anyway, Len has no other choice but to concede. "Fine. But this will be the last piece, okay?" He rests his violin on his shoulder, presses his chin against the chinrest, and lifts the bow over the strings. "In G minor. On my cue."
Len starts with the slow, haunting melody of Chaconne then the gentle flow of the piano's tune curls around the shrill drone of the strings in flawless resonance. They haven't done a duet in years and now, memories prod at him like a persistent child.
The past swirls in his head like a film in full color, making him vividly recall the time he was in Vienna, attending a music institute, when he thought he had finally managed to escape from Ryoutarou and the confounding feelings that were borne from their closeness. But then Ryoutarou showed up months later, claiming he was invited to play at a charity concert - by Len's mother of all people.
That was the turning point of his life and it was during the concert's after-party when the first piece of the domino toppled over at his feet. He remembered the alcohol, the noises, the loud music, Ryoutarou's breath against his neck, Ryoutarou's arms around him and everything that happened afterwards were all white noise in his inebriated brain.
Then there was the ultimately awkward morning after. Realizing they had slept together, he and Ryoutarou avoided each other and lost touch eventually, only for fate to drag them back together when they were asked to do a duet at the Yokohama Music Festival almost a year later. Len regretted going home during school break back then.
Tenacious as he was, Ryoutarou confronted him and then came the confession that brought them to bed. Again. And that was when the second domino piece tipped over the next. And the next.
It was five weeks later, just as Len was preparing to return to Vienna, that he discovered he was pregnant with Yusuke. They wasted no time getting married and Len thought it would be a happily-ever-after thing. Well, it was, really, until they started fighting more than they did talking. It was during one of those arguments when Ryoutarou had said something to bruise Len's ego that he packed up and left for America. Maybe the divorce was an impulsive decision on his part but.
The thought of the divorce distracts Len enough that his arm falters and his bow slips, creating a not-so-pleasant sound like nails on a chalkboard.
"What's wrong?" Ryoutarou's voice hauls him back to the present and he blinks at his ex-husband's concerned look.
His head spins, a thousand thoughts swimming in different directions that it takes a while before Len can focus on a specific cognition. "What happened to us, Ryou?" he asks, arms falling at his sides. "Was I so hard to live with? Why did we let our marriage fall apart?"
Ryoutarou twists on the bench to face him. "You're the one who left, Len," he says with a solemn expression. "I would've done everything to keep us together, but you refused to see me, to talk to me when I went to America to see you. Then I thought that if divorcing me would make you happy, then I'll let you have your way because I loved you. I still do. I never stopped loving you, Len."
Len's heart swells upon hearing Ryoutarou's earnest admission. He remembers Yusuke's words, thinks it's funny how their roles have reversed then when Yusuke has been the voice of reason while Len stumbles around in obstinate abnegation, trying to convince himself more than anyone else that he is over his ex-husband. But he isn't, is he? In a meek voice, he mutters, "I never stopped loving you too."
In a burst of movement, Ryoutarou is suddenly standing before him, eyes aflame. "I want to fix us, Len, whichever way I can." He lifts his arms, hesitates for a moment before resting his hands on Len's shoulders. "Please."
"What about Asumi?" Len doesn't really care about that woman but he finds the need to ask just to be sure where she stands.
Ryoutarou cups his cheek, palm warm against his cool skin. "She broke up with me," he says, stroking Len's face with his thumb. "It was her who made me realize that I'm still in love with you."
This seems too good to be true that Len fears this is just a byproduct of wishful thinking and reality will bite him in the ass sooner or later. He presses his hands on his ex-husband's chest then gives him a gentle push, saying, "No, Ryou. We shouldn't. We'll just end up hurting each other all over again."
Persistent determination defines Ryoutarou's demeanor. "If that happens, then we'll work on making things better, not run away from it," he says, hands clasping Len's arms in a viselike grip.
"I…." Len bites his tongue - figuratively - as soon as he hears the hurried footsteps clattering against the wooden floor. When the shoji door slides open to reveal Hihara, Len silently thanks blessed providence for the interruption. He's so not ready to deal with his ex-husband's tenacity just yet.
"There you are," Hihara bursts out with exuberance, seemingly unaware that he has inadvertently walked in on a consequential conversation but the slight, barely noticeable change in his gait suggests otherwise. "Been looking all over for you," he says with a hint of prudence, eyes focused on Ryoutarou. "Jinguji, Hijirikawa and their son are starting in on the meals for the hanami picnic and they said they could use your help."
Ryoutarou glances back at him, looking every bit uncertain, almost like he's seeking Len's approval so Len says, "Go on. We'll talk later."
It takes a while before Ryoutarou nods stiffly then follows Hihara out of the music room in laggard steps.
*
*
It doesn't take a genius to know that Len has been avoiding him. Damn it! The flame of frustration licks at his feet and Ryoutarou is ten seconds close to pulling his hair. He's well aware that striking a conversation with his ex-husband during hanami is close to impossible, even with Yusuke trying to get them alone together. But for Len to disappear right after is an insult to his patience.
Ryoutarou makes his way to the residential wing with a logical assumption that Len has gone straight to his room. Completely disregarding the fact that maybe Len wants some privacy, he grabs the door handle and isn't astounded when the door won't slide open.
"Len!" he calls out, internally cursing shoji door imitations and thinking that if this one's made of paper, he would have just burst through it.
"Leave me alone, Ryou!" Len yells back. At least he's not pretending not to be inside.
With his fisted hands resting on the wooden lattice, Ryoutarou says, "Open the door, Len. We're not done talking," as calm as he can manage.
There's a clear sign of movement from the room and Len sounds closer when he says, "You know… you have this capricious habit of overwhelming me that sometimes I just don't know how to deal with you."
It's hardly the remark he expects to hear so Ryoutarou doesn't know what to make of it, not even sure he should apologize but he says, "I'm sorry," anyway. "Please, Len, let me in," he pleads, not giving a fuck if he sounds desperate because… well, he kind of is.
Silence. Nothing but heavy breathing resounds in the air. Then Len mutters, "I'm tired," in almost a whisper. "I'm tired," he repeats, louder this time. "I need to get some sleep. You should go back to your room, Ryou. Just…."
The tiny voice inside his head tells him that he should give Len some space. But then that's exactly what he did nearly two years ago and he ended up with divorce papers slapped across his face. In a figurative sense.
"No, Len," he says, aware that his obstinate disposition is apparent in his tone but he doesn't give a shit. He pounds on the door with a fist. "We'll talk now, before we lose the opportunity completely. So open this fucking door." As an afterthought, he adds, "Please," laced with every ounce of despondency that rips out of his chest.
His heart clenches when he sees Len's silhouette through the smoked glass. Len is leaning against the door, voice soft when he says, "Ryou," like a prelude to another rejection.
"Please Len," Ryoutarou says before Len can even utter another word to send him away. "You admitted you still love me. I don't want to throw this chance to rekindle our relationship."
Len audibly sucks in a breath. "I'm not sure I'm ready to go back to how we were or pick up from where we left off." The vulnerability that delineates the timbre of his voice is so heartbreaking to hear. "I need time."
Time? Space? No way. Been there, done that and Ryoutarou is determined not to make the same mistake. "No," he says with firm defiance. "Open the door, Len. Or I'll break it down, so help me."
It's like a ton of weight is lifted off him when the door slides open and without second thought, Ryoutarou slips inside the room, shuts the door behind him, grabs Len by the arms and smashes his mouth against his ex-husband's.
The kiss lasts longer than he intends because Len is kissing back, lips moving along with his with the same intensity, matching every pressure he puts into it, teeth clashing against his. But remembering they have yet to talk wheedles Ryoutarou to pull away and he holds Len's gaze, daring him to look away. "Tell me you don't want me back and I'll leave you alone."
A swell of tears form on Len's eyes, the emotions playing on those amber orbs so vivid that words aren't needed anymore. Then Len's hand closes in on the front of his shirt and tugs him close without warning, this time initiating the kiss.
Ryoutarou leads Len to his bed with their mouths still fused together, his fingers fumbling on the buttons of Len's shirt. He manages to slip it off Len before Len falls on top of the mattress and he's looking up at Ryoutarou with dark eyes, pupils blown and Fuck! Len looks so sultry, so tempting that Ryoutarou all but tears his shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor before climbing over him.
The friction of their lips feels so familiar, like they've always been doing this and the two-year gap doesn't exist. His hand brushes against Len's nipple, feeling it harden against his palm then he pinches the nub, drawing out a low, mellisonant and lewd sound out of Len.
Ah…. Ryoutarou thinks, definitely music to his ears and he wants to hear more so he replaces his fingers with his mouth, sucking and nibbling and licking until Len is writhing underneath him, his fingers clasping on Ryoutarou's hair, his head thrown back, mouth open, looking so raunchy as ever.
It's when Ryoutarou pushes himself up so he can rid Len of his pants did he notice that Len is wearing track pants so it's easier to pull off and he ends up having a harder time with his own pants but fuck, he wants Len, wants to devour him so with that in mind, he hops out of his jeans and is crawling back on top of his ex-husband.
"You sure you want to do this?" Ryoutarou asks, just to be on the safe side and to be positive that he's not forcing Len to do anything he's not comfortable with.
Len watches him, eyebrows pinched. "Do you want me to change my mind?" he says in a challenging tone, which stirs up a witty comeback in Ryoutarou's mind but he chooses to shut his mouth, afraid that the mood might be dispelled and that Len might indeed shy away.
Instead, Ryoutarou just shakes his head and fastens his lips on Len's once more, this time feeling the yearning and hunger rushing through him in waves. He lowers his hips, their cocks touching, and Ryoutarou grabs both their erection without warning, and he strokes and pumps and….
"Oh fuck, Len!" He bites down on Len's shoulder and feels Len tense up, but soon relaxes and wraps one leg around Ryoutarou's waist.
This feels incredible, his mind supplies, his fist sliding up and down their cocks in a faster pace. But Ryoutarou wants more, wants to feel Len's warmth, wants to be inside Len, so he stops his ministration, asks Len, "Do you have any lube?" and receives an incredulous stare in response.
"No," Len says while bucking his hips up as if urging Ryoutarou to resume with the hand job. "It's not like I anticipated this."
Of course he didn't, because this is Len, so Ryoutarou doesn't bother asking for something else, just surveys the room for anything he can use, like lotion maybe, or….
There's a ruminative gleam on Len's eyes, as if he's reconsidering the situation, then a dark shade of pink dusts his face when he says, "There's… there's lube in the bureau, first drawer, top," then looks away, the color on his cheeks spreading up to the tips of his ears.
One corner of Ryoutarou's mouth twitches but he doesn't utter anything, just pads over to the cabinet and indeed, there are packets of lube and a box of condom inside. He grabs several of both then returns to the bed in a hurry. "So YOU weren't anticipating for this to happen, huh?"
Ryoutarou knows he shouldn't be teasing Len because there is a probability he might kill the momentum but seeing Len turn a bright red is amusing.
"Uh-I wasn't," he stutters. "Those came with Yusuke's welcome present when I arrived. I swear, your son is evil in so many ways."
"So he's just my son when you think he's evil?" Ryoutarou means that as a joke, but Len's eyes widen.
Before he can say anything though, Ryoutarou crashes his mouth against Len's while fumbling blindly on a packet of lube, managing to tear it open and squeeze out enough of the gel into his fingers. He doesn't remove his lips on Len's when he starts pushing one finger inside him, swallowing his low-pitched moans.
It doesn't take long before he has three fingers in and Len's already grinding against them, so Ryoutarou decides he's tortured Len enough, slips a condom on and lines his erection on Len's opening.
"Len," he says, leaving the question unspoken, and when Len nods, he pushes in, his cock rubbing against Len's warmth and - Oh fuck! - Ryoutarou forgets everything around. He's not going to last long, he knows, because it's been ages and he's been yearning for this. He pounds into Len, finds the right angle until he feels the tip of his cock brushing against something soft and pliant that has Len screaming his name, fingernails scraping against his skin.
Ryoutarou has barely curled his fingers around Len's cock when Len stiffens, then spouts out his cum, ribbons of white shooting all over his chest, sweat glistening on his porcelain skin, his face looking so wanton that the sight alone steers Ryoutarou towards the edge.
His hips move faster and Ryoutarou holds in a breath, driving his cock in and out of Len, feeling all his blood rushing down to his groin area. Then he's coming, whole body shivering. And the world around them ceases.
chapters 9 & 10
Uta no Prince-sama x La Corda d' Oro crossover
Jinguji Ren/Hijirikawa Masato, Tsuchiura Ryoutarou/Tsukimori Len
written for Small Fandoms Bang 2016 - round 5
written for Trope Bingo round 6, for the prompt/trope square 'marriage'
MASTER POST
chapters 5 & 6
7.
To proclaim that he's bone-tired will be an understatement. Ren doesn't remember his own wedding being so exhausting. Or is it because he's in his mid-40's and not as robust and resilient as he used to? Well, he can pretty much last in bed, that's for sure. But sex is different. And getting constantly herded around by an adamant wedding planner is different.
Cool air hits his face as soon as he steps out of the main house. He digs into his pocket for the cigarette case, took a stick and tucks it between his lips. He's broken out of this habit a long time ago, but with all the stress he's accumulating lately, he can sure use one. It's fortunate that he's been able to bribe Tokiya in buying him a pack and keeping it a secret from Masato. He fishes out his lighter and lights the damn thing.
Alone at last, he thinks as he moseys toward one of the outer gardens but his solitary contentment quickly dissolves when he walks around the hedge. The sight that greets him is near similar to an invisible wall he collides against, so unexpected that his jaw drops in shock, the lit cigarette tumbling down the ground in the process.
Taiki and Ryusei are locked in an embrace - an intimate one, Ren notes - with Taiki's face buried in the curve of Ryusei's neck. When Taiki lifts his head, his gaze immediately lands on Ren, unadulterated terror sparking on his purple-blue irises. He untangles his arms from Ryusei and jumps back in rapid succession, which triggers Ryusei to pivot around, his eyes growing wide upon seeing Ren.
As soon as the abominable scare visibly wears off, Taiki leans close enough to whisper in Ryusei's ear then moves towards Ren and lowers half his body in a courteous bow. "I'll be on my way, Ren-ojisan," he says before leaving.
Cold tension reverberates between him and his son until Ryusei breaks the ice. "Aren't you going to say something, Papa?"
Ren blinks stupidly at his son, unable to whip up a clever remark. He presses the tip of his boots on the cigarette stick lying on the grass longer than necessary, just to keep him preoccupied. Though he's still feeling the awful uneasiness prickling his skin, he finally looks at his son. "Sorry. I was just caught by surprise. How long have you and… and… you know."
A pensive smile plays on Ryusei's lips. "About seven months."
Seven months. That long? Ren wonders where he'd been while this is being forged into his son's life. Then he recalls having been gone most of the past year, which is one reason why his marriage and his relationship with his children have been spiraling out of his control.
"I see." There is a question lingering on Ryusei's eyes, one that's clear and easy to read, so Ren says, "I'm not against the idea of you two together. And I believe you know what you're doing so I'm not going to give you a lecture. You're old enough, Ryuchan."
The corners of Ryusei's mouth curl up then he releases a breath he's probably been holding and says, "Thanks, Papa." He points at the now unlit cigarette on the ground. "I thought you quit smoking."
"I did," Ren says, not bothered that his son has caught him red-handed. "I just take a stick at times when I'm under a lot of stress."
They're wrapped in momentary reticence, Ryusei watching him with Masato's eyes. Not in a scrutinizing way, no. More like assessing him, concern pooling in those deep-blue orbs. He looks so much like Masato now more than ever. Though his hair is darker in shade and has a different style, shorter than his mother's, with fringes long enough to partially cover his left eye. Three miniscule beauty marks sit near the left corner of his mouth, which Mariko refers to as Orion's belt since they're strategically arranged like the constellation.
Concern visibly shifts to worry as lines start to form on Ryusei's forehead. He cocks his head to the side and asks, "Do you want to talk about it?" in measured enunciation that makes Ren titter.
Funny how their roles seem to have been reversed, how Ryusei seems to be the adult one in this scenario. But then Ren deduces that being open to his son isn't a bad idea after all. They haven't done this in a while - talk, that is - so he decides to take Ryusei up on his offer. "As long as you promise not to give me a lengthy lecture that smoking is bad for my health," he jests, beckoning Ryusei to come closer with his a jerk of his head.
"I don't think I have to," Ryusei says with a soft laugh while he advances with unflappable, unhurried strides.
When his son is close enough, Ren hooks an arm over his shoulders then leads him further into the garden. "You've grown taller," he notes out loud.
Ryusei slants his eyes to him, one brow raised in a perfect arch. "You talk as if you haven't seen me in ages."
Considering he rarely gets to see his nineteen-year-old son for the past year since Ryusei has been caught up in the whirlwind of theatrical arts, he says, "It does feel like ages since I last spent time with you."
The smile Ryusei's been wearing falters and the light in his eyes dim. Ren reckons he may have opened a can of worms and mentally berates himself for being tactless. "Look Ryusei," he starts, deciding to grab this chance to finally have a heart-to-heart talk with his son. "I'm sorry for not having enough time for you, for not being able to see your plays, for not being there-"
"Papa, stop." Ryusei's shaking his head. "I'm not looking for an apology. And it's perfectly alright that you weren't able to see my shows. Not that I expected you or Mama to be there, to be honest." He keeps a cautious gaze on Ren, like maybe he's gauging whether he will be hurt by those words. When Ren nods in encouragement, Ryusei's lips stretches into a faint smile. "None of the other actors had any of their parents present either. It would have been embarrassing, you know."
"Strange but I had this exact same conversation with Hideaki the other day and he said the exact same thing you just did." Ironically, Ren can relate. He didn't have to worry about the same problem back when he started out in the entertainment industry since his parents weren't around anymore but he's pretty sure that if his mom would have been alive, she would've been by his side all the time and that would've been… well, humiliating to some degree. He can just imagine how Ryusei felt back then with Masato always shadowing him.
"Just don't let your Mama hear that." Ren tousles Ryusei's midnight blue locks with his fingers. "Although I don't think anything would've stopped him from being there for you. And Hideaki. And Mariko."
Ryusei rolls his eyes. "You have no idea. I mean, I love Mama, but I wish he'd stop treating me like I'm still twelve."
"Good luck with that," Ren says with a snort. "But you know how he'd been deprived of support from your grandpa and grandma during our STARISH days. We both were, but…."
Another taciturn moment descends upon them, broken only by a gentle wind swirling past, showering them with cherry blossom petals. The sky opalesces from warm yellow to a deep orange hue, clouds drifting across like silken brocade.
Once they reach the small bridge that curves over a brook, Ryusei's step ceases. "So how are things with Mama?"
The pre-programmed or automatic response seems to be a rise of his shoulders whenever asked about this despite expecting that this will somehow be a usual part of their casual discussion. And much as Ren would like to believe he has made progress, there's still the element of uncertainty weighing him down so his reply is an obscure, "Still working on it. But we're getting there."
Ryusei leaves the circle of his arm to lock gazes with him, his eyes brimming with such headstrong devotion. "Don't give up on him, okay? I know how much you two love each other."
"Not planning to, don't worry." Ren slides his hands into the pockets of his jacket and watches his son rock on the balls of his feet.
His paternal intuition spikes up that he can almost hear the wheels in Ryusei's head turning; can sense that something's brewing even before Ryusei stutters out, "Papa, I uh…" and starts gnawing at his bottom lip. So he's not at all taken aback when Ryusei finally blurts out, "I'm thinking of moving out, get an apartment in Tokyo, somewhere near my agency's office and at the heart of most theaters and rehearsal halls."
The temptation to ask if Ryusei plans to share a living space with someone in particular prances around his head, but Ren thinks that's a question for another day so he instead he asks, "Have you told your Mama yet?"
Ryusei responds with a curt twist of his head. He parts his lips but whatever comes out is drowned by Otoya's vociferous holler of, "Ren! I've been looking for you!" that echoes across the premises.
"I'll talk to him," Ren manages to utter and gives Ryusei a reassuring pat on his shoulder. His eyes skip to Otoya, who jogs over to them with several DVD cases in his hands. "What is it, Ikki?"
"Look, Ren. Natsuki brought over some collection of our shows when we were STARISH," Otoya says, his face lit with youthful vivacity that never ceases to amaze Ren. "You wanna come watch?
The thought of viewing their younger selves on a huge screen while huddled with their family sends a mortifying shiver down Ren's spine. "What for? To embarrass ourselves in front of our children?"
"Oh c'mon, Ren. It will be fun," Otoya whines and it's when he's bordering close to immaturity that Ren forgets he actually has children and Ren has to remind himself that this man happens to be the mother of the boy Ryusei is dating.
"Do I have a choice?" Ren can foresee that once he gets inside the villa, Otoya, Natsuki and Syo will gang up on him so he might as well acquiesce. He casts his son a prudent look. "Do you want to watch your parents in their finest humiliating experience?"
Ryusei barks a laugh and raises his hand to toss his fringe back with his fingers. "I'd love to, but I promised Mama I'll help him prepare dinner."
"Good boy," Ren says, feeling relieved somehow, and he takes Ryusei back in a one-arm hug while they trail after Otoya towards the main house.
*
*
The alluring silky sound of the saxophone floats across the hallway, guiding Masato to its source. When he steps into the room he shares with his husband, his eyes immediately seek out Ren and he finds him standing in the balcony, back slightly arched, hands curled around the golden instrument.
Masato can't help but stare. The graceful way Ren's fingers sway over the keys has always been captivating. Ren alone is entrancing enough, even in his forties. In fact, he looks almost as he did twenty years ago. Almost. His orange blond hair is shorter now, still long enough to stretch over the nape of his neck, its golden tips falling past his ears. But the rest of him is pretty much like the Jinguji Ren that he married about two decades ago, annoying habits included.
Once Ren is done with the piece, Masato says, "I miss hearing you play," belatedly realizing that his thoughts have formed into words and have escaped his mouth.
A small, rather hesitant smile takes shape on Ren's lips. "Never realized how much I've missed playing this thing." He ambles into the room and straight to the table where his saxophone case lay. Ren is wearing a running shirt and track pants so Masato presumes he's been working out. But playing sax after that is a clear sign that Ren has got a lot on his mind. He does both consecutively only when he's in deep thought. So it's not all too surprising when Ren says, "Listen, Masa, we have to talk," after he has his saxophone safely tucked in its case.
Regardless, Masato's heart skips at the prospect of talking. They've done that countless times since arriving at the villa. But this is undoubtedly the talk they've both been avoiding, the talk they both need to have. "Now?"
"Yes, now," Ren says, steadfast gaze never leaving Masato. "Before we're swept into the wedding chaos."
"We can talk after the wedding," Masato isn't sure why he's stalling. Maybe it's because everything has been thrown off course - his resentment, his impulsive decision to end their marriage, everything - after he and Ren had sex and he's not sure whether to regret that right now or come to terms with the fact that he's still very much in love with his husband.
"No, Masayan. We've put it off for too long already." Ren;s cautious approach as if he's treading on thin wires is painful to watch, specially when he pauses at a considerable distance. "I know we still have underlying problems that we have yet to resolve. If you're thinking of getting a divorce, you can forget about it. I'm not going to let you give up on this marriage and I'm not giving you up either."
Masato's heart stutters at the firm resoluteness shining on Ren's eyes. "I was considering it," he admits and he would've called his lawyer to have him prepare the divorce papers but Mariko has talked him out of it. "But not anymore." Ren lifts an eyebrow, which drives Masato to add, "I'm still upset with you, to be honest. But I've decided to listen to your pathetic excuses, maybe then I can find the right sense to forgive you."
"Pathetic excuses?" A soft, disparaging sound burst through Ren's nose. "They're not excuses, Masayan, and that's actually one of the things I wanted to talk to you about."
Masato cocks an eyebrow at the 'one of the' part, his curiosity brewing. "I'm listening."
Ren's chest rises as he draws in a long, heavy breath. "The reason why I was stuck in Europe for the past five months was because I was in the process of selling the Jinguji family business there and I've been meeting with potential investors then later taking care of the transition to make sure everything goes smoothly." This is news to Masato and he'll probably think it's a hoax had it not been for the serious countenance defining Ren's face at the moment.
"I presume you're brothers are in complete agreement?" One thing Masato has full knowledge of is that Ren, despite having been given the power to run their European branches, does not hold complete authority over the conglomerate and that is the part he's wary about.
"It was actually Seiichirou's idea," Ren says then he takes slow, measured strides to close the distance between them. "He said he wouldn't want to keep sending me there every time there was a problem, which was exactly what had been happening for the past year."
Well, it's a valid reason yet doubt still lingers in Masato's mind. He wonders why Ren didn't just tell him and he's just about to ask when Ren says, "I couldn't tell you then because Seiichirou wanted to keep it confidential for a while and he didn't want our competitors here in Japan to find out," as if he has read Masato's mind.
What Ren probably means is that Seiichirou didn't want Masato's father to find out because his father's company is still technically considered Jinguji Group's rival. He trusts Ren completely and believes his story, though he's tempted to taunt and ask, "Are you sure that's the only reason why you've spent so much time there? Or were you seeing some Italian model on the side?"
Ren bursts into a hearty laugh then he reaches out to grab Masato, his arms coiling around Masato's waist. "I wish that were the case but I don't think I'd be able to set my eyes on anyone else when I have the most beautiful, perfect partner right here."
The impudent insinuation in Ren's words goads Masato to glare at Ren. "You make me sound like a woman." He wraps his arms around Ren's neck then plants a quick peck on his lips. "You said that's one of the things you wanted to talk about. What else do you have in mind?"
Soft, rhythmic knocks followed by Ryusei's voice, saying, "Mama? Papa? You in there?" filters through the door. A frustrated sigh is coaxed out of Masato while he wonders what fate has against them for having their children act as the divine personifications of the celestial imbalance known as ill-timed disruption.
"We're here, Ryusei, and the door's open," he says, stepping out of his husband's embrace.
Their son's head appears through the slightly open door. "Sorry. I hope I didn't interrupt. We're you guys in the middle of something?" he asks with a mischievous sparkle on his eyes.
There's an unspoken rule that they have to be straightforward with their children in certain situations so Masato says, "You did," but at Ryusei's apologetic look, he adds, "It's fine though. Did you need something, Ryu-chan?"
"Nothing important." Ryusei's lips curve up diffidently. "We're playing jinsei and Neechan sent me to ask if you guys want to join."
It's Ren who responds with "Sure, Ryu-chan. You go ahead. Your mama and I will there in a while."
"Okay."
Once Ryusei is out of sight, Ren says, "He's actually one of those I want to talk about," indicating at the door - or their son who has just disappeared behind the door - with his thumb. "Did you know he's seeing Taiki?"
Hearing the incredulity in Ren's voice invokes a knowing smile on his lips. "I do and I think almost everyone that matters knows, except you. You've been away too often. How did you find out anyway?"
Wrinkles form between Ren's eyebrows and the perplexed way he says, "I caught them smooching earlier," incites laughter to bubble up from Masato's chest. "I am never leaving again," Ren says with an exasperated groan.
Masato sneaks an arm around Ren's middle and plants a kiss on Ren's shoulder. "Don't make promises you can't keep," he says with a teasing lilt. "We better go before Mariko sends Hideaki next."
Ren doesn't move an inch. "There's one other thing," he enunciates with evident reluctance and he's evidently dawdling.
"What is it?" Masato urges when seconds stretch longer and Ren doesn't follow up though he has a vague idea that it's still related to their nineteen-year-old son.
"I don't know if I should take the liberty to tell you this," Ren wavers, shifting his weight from one leg to the other, "Or let Ryu-chan come to you but-"
"Is this about Ryusei wanting to move to Tokyo?" Masato knows that he has made the right guess when he catches Ren's dubious reaction and when Ren gawks at him inquisitively, he is compelled to explain. "I overheard him talking to Taiki about it a few weeks ago."
Ren's shoulders visibly relax. "At least that's one weight off my mind."
"I don't think there's anything to worry about." Masato is aware that Ryusei is old enough and taking his chosen career into consideration, moving to Tokyo where he will need to be most of the time is much easier than traveling all the way from Kyoto. "We'll talk to him together. After the wedding. Come on." He grabs Ren's hand and starts pulling him toward the door. "Let's not keep our children waiting."
Except. Ren refuses to move. The sharp and sudden tug at Masato's arm causes him to lose his balance and fall against his husband's solid chest. Ren holds Masato in place and leans close enough to whisper, "Why don't we just stay here and play our own game?" in that deep dulcet tone that never fails to make him tremble with arousal.
The thought of his children waiting for them extinguishes the want building up so he jabs Ren at his side with an elbow and says, "Oh stop it. We'll have time for that later," then sashays out of the room, ignoring Ren's childish whining.
* * * * *
8.
Len drags the bow against the strings with controlled force as he reaches the last verse of the piece. The vibration from the violin soothes him somehow, offers him a sense of peace. Len isn't sure how long he's been playing. He has lost track of time. But judging from how his fingers feel raw and how his shoulders and neck feel stiff, it must have been hours.
It's only after he swipes the bow for the last note did he notice Ryoutarou standing by the doorway. "You're still amazing as ever," he says, hauling his bulk into the music room. He's wearing a shirt too tight that it stretches over his broad chest, the sleeves hugging his corded biceps and seeing him like this makes Len's heartbeat race. "Well, don't stop on my account." Ryoutarou settles on one of the cushioned seats near the window.
The mere thought of having his ex-husband as his sole audience unnerves him so Len whips up a lame excuse and says, "I'm actually done."
"Oh come on." Ryoutarou springs up on his feet and glides toward the piano in long and quick strides. "Tell you what. I'll accompany you if you play Vitali," he says, eyes ablaze with the usual stubborn perseverance.
Knowing that any protest will go on deaf ears anyway, Len has no other choice but to concede. "Fine. But this will be the last piece, okay?" He rests his violin on his shoulder, presses his chin against the chinrest, and lifts the bow over the strings. "In G minor. On my cue."
Len starts with the slow, haunting melody of Chaconne then the gentle flow of the piano's tune curls around the shrill drone of the strings in flawless resonance. They haven't done a duet in years and now, memories prod at him like a persistent child.
The past swirls in his head like a film in full color, making him vividly recall the time he was in Vienna, attending a music institute, when he thought he had finally managed to escape from Ryoutarou and the confounding feelings that were borne from their closeness. But then Ryoutarou showed up months later, claiming he was invited to play at a charity concert - by Len's mother of all people.
That was the turning point of his life and it was during the concert's after-party when the first piece of the domino toppled over at his feet. He remembered the alcohol, the noises, the loud music, Ryoutarou's breath against his neck, Ryoutarou's arms around him and everything that happened afterwards were all white noise in his inebriated brain.
Then there was the ultimately awkward morning after. Realizing they had slept together, he and Ryoutarou avoided each other and lost touch eventually, only for fate to drag them back together when they were asked to do a duet at the Yokohama Music Festival almost a year later. Len regretted going home during school break back then.
Tenacious as he was, Ryoutarou confronted him and then came the confession that brought them to bed. Again. And that was when the second domino piece tipped over the next. And the next.
It was five weeks later, just as Len was preparing to return to Vienna, that he discovered he was pregnant with Yusuke. They wasted no time getting married and Len thought it would be a happily-ever-after thing. Well, it was, really, until they started fighting more than they did talking. It was during one of those arguments when Ryoutarou had said something to bruise Len's ego that he packed up and left for America. Maybe the divorce was an impulsive decision on his part but.
The thought of the divorce distracts Len enough that his arm falters and his bow slips, creating a not-so-pleasant sound like nails on a chalkboard.
"What's wrong?" Ryoutarou's voice hauls him back to the present and he blinks at his ex-husband's concerned look.
His head spins, a thousand thoughts swimming in different directions that it takes a while before Len can focus on a specific cognition. "What happened to us, Ryou?" he asks, arms falling at his sides. "Was I so hard to live with? Why did we let our marriage fall apart?"
Ryoutarou twists on the bench to face him. "You're the one who left, Len," he says with a solemn expression. "I would've done everything to keep us together, but you refused to see me, to talk to me when I went to America to see you. Then I thought that if divorcing me would make you happy, then I'll let you have your way because I loved you. I still do. I never stopped loving you, Len."
Len's heart swells upon hearing Ryoutarou's earnest admission. He remembers Yusuke's words, thinks it's funny how their roles have reversed then when Yusuke has been the voice of reason while Len stumbles around in obstinate abnegation, trying to convince himself more than anyone else that he is over his ex-husband. But he isn't, is he? In a meek voice, he mutters, "I never stopped loving you too."
In a burst of movement, Ryoutarou is suddenly standing before him, eyes aflame. "I want to fix us, Len, whichever way I can." He lifts his arms, hesitates for a moment before resting his hands on Len's shoulders. "Please."
"What about Asumi?" Len doesn't really care about that woman but he finds the need to ask just to be sure where she stands.
Ryoutarou cups his cheek, palm warm against his cool skin. "She broke up with me," he says, stroking Len's face with his thumb. "It was her who made me realize that I'm still in love with you."
This seems too good to be true that Len fears this is just a byproduct of wishful thinking and reality will bite him in the ass sooner or later. He presses his hands on his ex-husband's chest then gives him a gentle push, saying, "No, Ryou. We shouldn't. We'll just end up hurting each other all over again."
Persistent determination defines Ryoutarou's demeanor. "If that happens, then we'll work on making things better, not run away from it," he says, hands clasping Len's arms in a viselike grip.
"I…." Len bites his tongue - figuratively - as soon as he hears the hurried footsteps clattering against the wooden floor. When the shoji door slides open to reveal Hihara, Len silently thanks blessed providence for the interruption. He's so not ready to deal with his ex-husband's tenacity just yet.
"There you are," Hihara bursts out with exuberance, seemingly unaware that he has inadvertently walked in on a consequential conversation but the slight, barely noticeable change in his gait suggests otherwise. "Been looking all over for you," he says with a hint of prudence, eyes focused on Ryoutarou. "Jinguji, Hijirikawa and their son are starting in on the meals for the hanami picnic and they said they could use your help."
Ryoutarou glances back at him, looking every bit uncertain, almost like he's seeking Len's approval so Len says, "Go on. We'll talk later."
It takes a while before Ryoutarou nods stiffly then follows Hihara out of the music room in laggard steps.
*
*
It doesn't take a genius to know that Len has been avoiding him. Damn it! The flame of frustration licks at his feet and Ryoutarou is ten seconds close to pulling his hair. He's well aware that striking a conversation with his ex-husband during hanami is close to impossible, even with Yusuke trying to get them alone together. But for Len to disappear right after is an insult to his patience.
Ryoutarou makes his way to the residential wing with a logical assumption that Len has gone straight to his room. Completely disregarding the fact that maybe Len wants some privacy, he grabs the door handle and isn't astounded when the door won't slide open.
"Len!" he calls out, internally cursing shoji door imitations and thinking that if this one's made of paper, he would have just burst through it.
"Leave me alone, Ryou!" Len yells back. At least he's not pretending not to be inside.
With his fisted hands resting on the wooden lattice, Ryoutarou says, "Open the door, Len. We're not done talking," as calm as he can manage.
There's a clear sign of movement from the room and Len sounds closer when he says, "You know… you have this capricious habit of overwhelming me that sometimes I just don't know how to deal with you."
It's hardly the remark he expects to hear so Ryoutarou doesn't know what to make of it, not even sure he should apologize but he says, "I'm sorry," anyway. "Please, Len, let me in," he pleads, not giving a fuck if he sounds desperate because… well, he kind of is.
Silence. Nothing but heavy breathing resounds in the air. Then Len mutters, "I'm tired," in almost a whisper. "I'm tired," he repeats, louder this time. "I need to get some sleep. You should go back to your room, Ryou. Just…."
The tiny voice inside his head tells him that he should give Len some space. But then that's exactly what he did nearly two years ago and he ended up with divorce papers slapped across his face. In a figurative sense.
"No, Len," he says, aware that his obstinate disposition is apparent in his tone but he doesn't give a shit. He pounds on the door with a fist. "We'll talk now, before we lose the opportunity completely. So open this fucking door." As an afterthought, he adds, "Please," laced with every ounce of despondency that rips out of his chest.
His heart clenches when he sees Len's silhouette through the smoked glass. Len is leaning against the door, voice soft when he says, "Ryou," like a prelude to another rejection.
"Please Len," Ryoutarou says before Len can even utter another word to send him away. "You admitted you still love me. I don't want to throw this chance to rekindle our relationship."
Len audibly sucks in a breath. "I'm not sure I'm ready to go back to how we were or pick up from where we left off." The vulnerability that delineates the timbre of his voice is so heartbreaking to hear. "I need time."
Time? Space? No way. Been there, done that and Ryoutarou is determined not to make the same mistake. "No," he says with firm defiance. "Open the door, Len. Or I'll break it down, so help me."
It's like a ton of weight is lifted off him when the door slides open and without second thought, Ryoutarou slips inside the room, shuts the door behind him, grabs Len by the arms and smashes his mouth against his ex-husband's.
The kiss lasts longer than he intends because Len is kissing back, lips moving along with his with the same intensity, matching every pressure he puts into it, teeth clashing against his. But remembering they have yet to talk wheedles Ryoutarou to pull away and he holds Len's gaze, daring him to look away. "Tell me you don't want me back and I'll leave you alone."
A swell of tears form on Len's eyes, the emotions playing on those amber orbs so vivid that words aren't needed anymore. Then Len's hand closes in on the front of his shirt and tugs him close without warning, this time initiating the kiss.
Ryoutarou leads Len to his bed with their mouths still fused together, his fingers fumbling on the buttons of Len's shirt. He manages to slip it off Len before Len falls on top of the mattress and he's looking up at Ryoutarou with dark eyes, pupils blown and Fuck! Len looks so sultry, so tempting that Ryoutarou all but tears his shirt over his head and tosses it to the floor before climbing over him.
The friction of their lips feels so familiar, like they've always been doing this and the two-year gap doesn't exist. His hand brushes against Len's nipple, feeling it harden against his palm then he pinches the nub, drawing out a low, mellisonant and lewd sound out of Len.
Ah…. Ryoutarou thinks, definitely music to his ears and he wants to hear more so he replaces his fingers with his mouth, sucking and nibbling and licking until Len is writhing underneath him, his fingers clasping on Ryoutarou's hair, his head thrown back, mouth open, looking so raunchy as ever.
It's when Ryoutarou pushes himself up so he can rid Len of his pants did he notice that Len is wearing track pants so it's easier to pull off and he ends up having a harder time with his own pants but fuck, he wants Len, wants to devour him so with that in mind, he hops out of his jeans and is crawling back on top of his ex-husband.
"You sure you want to do this?" Ryoutarou asks, just to be on the safe side and to be positive that he's not forcing Len to do anything he's not comfortable with.
Len watches him, eyebrows pinched. "Do you want me to change my mind?" he says in a challenging tone, which stirs up a witty comeback in Ryoutarou's mind but he chooses to shut his mouth, afraid that the mood might be dispelled and that Len might indeed shy away.
Instead, Ryoutarou just shakes his head and fastens his lips on Len's once more, this time feeling the yearning and hunger rushing through him in waves. He lowers his hips, their cocks touching, and Ryoutarou grabs both their erection without warning, and he strokes and pumps and….
"Oh fuck, Len!" He bites down on Len's shoulder and feels Len tense up, but soon relaxes and wraps one leg around Ryoutarou's waist.
This feels incredible, his mind supplies, his fist sliding up and down their cocks in a faster pace. But Ryoutarou wants more, wants to feel Len's warmth, wants to be inside Len, so he stops his ministration, asks Len, "Do you have any lube?" and receives an incredulous stare in response.
"No," Len says while bucking his hips up as if urging Ryoutarou to resume with the hand job. "It's not like I anticipated this."
Of course he didn't, because this is Len, so Ryoutarou doesn't bother asking for something else, just surveys the room for anything he can use, like lotion maybe, or….
There's a ruminative gleam on Len's eyes, as if he's reconsidering the situation, then a dark shade of pink dusts his face when he says, "There's… there's lube in the bureau, first drawer, top," then looks away, the color on his cheeks spreading up to the tips of his ears.
One corner of Ryoutarou's mouth twitches but he doesn't utter anything, just pads over to the cabinet and indeed, there are packets of lube and a box of condom inside. He grabs several of both then returns to the bed in a hurry. "So YOU weren't anticipating for this to happen, huh?"
Ryoutarou knows he shouldn't be teasing Len because there is a probability he might kill the momentum but seeing Len turn a bright red is amusing.
"Uh-I wasn't," he stutters. "Those came with Yusuke's welcome present when I arrived. I swear, your son is evil in so many ways."
"So he's just my son when you think he's evil?" Ryoutarou means that as a joke, but Len's eyes widen.
Before he can say anything though, Ryoutarou crashes his mouth against Len's while fumbling blindly on a packet of lube, managing to tear it open and squeeze out enough of the gel into his fingers. He doesn't remove his lips on Len's when he starts pushing one finger inside him, swallowing his low-pitched moans.
It doesn't take long before he has three fingers in and Len's already grinding against them, so Ryoutarou decides he's tortured Len enough, slips a condom on and lines his erection on Len's opening.
"Len," he says, leaving the question unspoken, and when Len nods, he pushes in, his cock rubbing against Len's warmth and - Oh fuck! - Ryoutarou forgets everything around. He's not going to last long, he knows, because it's been ages and he's been yearning for this. He pounds into Len, finds the right angle until he feels the tip of his cock brushing against something soft and pliant that has Len screaming his name, fingernails scraping against his skin.
Ryoutarou has barely curled his fingers around Len's cock when Len stiffens, then spouts out his cum, ribbons of white shooting all over his chest, sweat glistening on his porcelain skin, his face looking so wanton that the sight alone steers Ryoutarou towards the edge.
His hips move faster and Ryoutarou holds in a breath, driving his cock in and out of Len, feeling all his blood rushing down to his groin area. Then he's coming, whole body shivering. And the world around them ceases.
chapters 9 & 10