One-shot ~ Last fragment of me
So, the Ryo-Short Exchange has definitely been fun for me to be in, I'm glad I took part at the challenge :)
Now's the time to repost the entry I wrote for mikinyan, I hope you'll appreciate too, have fun reading!
**
Title: Last fragment of me
Author: lalois
Fandom: Kanjani8
Pairings: RyOhkura
Rating: R+
Length: one-shot
Words: 5141
Genre: romance, introspection, angst
Warnings: some bad language. Written in 1st person POV.
Disclaimer: sadly I don’t own anything about Kanjani8, just my worship for my OTP.
Summary: Ryo is not willing to give it a try with Ohkura. He's not willing of letting go, either. In between the uncomfortable limbo, Ryo's most uncomfortable truth will come to light.
Written for: mikinyan for ryo-short exchange. Thanks a lot to my beta-reader!
Also available on Ao3
**
"Ryochan, please wake up."
I blink.
In the wake of said voice, some kind of memory is stirring within me, but somehow I cannot move, and I just keep dozing off.
"The manager has just called," the melodic voice goes on as I hear it floating here and there around the small room. "We're expected to meet in the office in half an hour's time. Just so you know before you start sulking, okay?"
I resolve to crack one eye open and manage to catch a glimpse of Ohkura's naked ass right before its owner disappears again from the restricted view these tons of messy duvets created around me.
Blankets are useless, if I may say.
But this is his place, not mine.
His rules, not mine.
The next moment he's suddenly towering beside the bed, over me, a deep frown marking his features as he snatches the pillow I didn’t realize I’m holding:
"Well, I’ve warned you twice, so now you will excuse me if I'm not letting you use the bathroom first, Ryochan."
He's forcing a mocking tone and a smirk is nearly opening up across his lips. Almost.
My gaze slides casually down and does not miss the fading spots still marking his bare skin.
We had sex last night, and I can't honestly explain to myself why it actually happened.
It was a first, it will probably be my last one with him, but there's some kind of lingering frustration, deep within me, I have to grasp and I feel like it's now or never.
"I'll trade that with a coffee to go, Ohkura. No problem, really."
I sit up to locate my scattered clothes, and start getting dressed.
"But-"
"You're not going to waste time over a stupid shower, right?" I try to persuade him. "I'm stopping by at my place before going to the office. I should arrive there right in time, don't worry."
He walks back and picks up his bathrobe, still a bit uncertain.
My foot slides into my boot. Oh God, boots, the handiest piece of clothing on the whole Earth. No wonder Ohkura rarely wears them.
I'm done, and said drummer waves me goodbye as I rush to the door.
"See you later then, Ryochan" he calls out.
I spare him my grin and I'm glad I'm off, for he'd easily figure out I'm being terribly fake.
*
I am wearing my sunglasses and keep my eyes closed while the taxi drives me home and once I'm there, I don't even bother to stop in the hall to get off the boots, I kick them straight away as I slump into bed.
I’m having a hard time breathing.
I slowly take off the shirt I was wearing , until I can smell Ohkura again on my own bare skin. I can still feel his skin on mine.
Yeah, I should take a shower, but I can't get rid of this right now.
As I close my eyes, a whole set of memories of his mouth taking care of me is haunting me and I don't think
I wanna push them away.
I need to stop time, right now, which is honestly weird of me, who usually cannot waste time thinking back
to things.
He did what I least expected from him, he let me get acquainted with his body.
He did not judge me.
I’m glad he did not, for I felt as if we got strangely, closely connected, and that's probably the reason why I almost bit my tongue when I came, in the end.
I felt like I had to cry, but tears cannot be allowed between us.
Roughness is, we're men after all.
I liked it, that goes unsaid.
And I like him, the guy. I like him.
I've recently come to terms with the fact that I'm possibly both sexually attracted to and emotionally involved with this guy I've known for ages. It took me long enough though, nights fully awake, several months of therapy at Shota's place and an expensive set of harmonicas I handed over to Subaru, who said nothing every time I grumbled over the phone, when I needed a few words from him.
But it’s not like nobody knows Ohkura is a never-ending temptation to me. I know it’s shameful of me, but I've seriously resisted. Long. Enough.
I still remember the soapy scent of his shampoo when he fell asleep by my side after the 47 tour, the awful T-shirt he was wearing when he lost at janken and when the guys wanted him to make the weirdest of faces as batsugame and our laughs after that, not to mention when he whined for so long that he was overweight and he decided he had to lose some kilos. In the end he lost too many, and I sulked over it.
Somehow, I can't get rid of none of those things.
Somehow, I didn’t realize my hands were taking care of me, thinking about him more often than not. Even now, as I recall what we did last night, and my lips are searching for his name when I come, again.
The hot water of the shower is not helping like I thought it would.
The fact that Ohkura and me ended up in bed together does not provide me with the answer for the frustration killing me inside.
What have I become?
I don’t want this to be.
I don’t want to be like this.
The man I thought I was, the one I would like to be, the fact that when If I dared to call this feeling by its
name, my whole world will be smashed to pieces.
I don’t want to feel anything.
He's luring the worst out of me, the Ryo I don't want anyone to see. The coward and the miserable one, the guy dominated by his most primordial feelings. Feelings that shouldn’t be right there in the first place.
And besides, he's hardly the easily readable person he pretends he is.
I know he’s not going to feel the same.
This feeling is painful.
*
"Why didn't you tell me you were not okay?"
As I look up, I can't fail to notice that Ohkura's questioning eyes are hard to avoid. The hardest thing ever.
"Sorry?"
He rolls his eyes.
"Last Monday. You left my place and never made it to the office. When I arrived there, manager-san told us
you called in sick", Ohkura explains with some kind of resentful tone, as if he's feeling remorseful for playing too hard with a poor sick Nishikido.
The problem is, I don't have an answer ready for him, and he can read that in my eyes. My lie.
"You regret it, right?"
"What?! NO, wait, I-"
"You didn't ask, I didn't ask either Ryochan, but this does not mean I cannot sense it when-“
"I didn't ask but you guessed it right," I cut him off, and I know this is not what I should be saying to make
things fade away but, apparently, I can’t help it. "No regrets, Ohkura. Not at all."
He does not look persuaded.
"Why did you leave like that, then?"
"I wasn't even supposed to sleep over," I snap.
"But you-”
“DOKKUN, OHKURA, Oi there!!”
Yokoyama-kun shouts and startles us. Why the heck is he shouting? We’re having a fucking break right now!
Wait. Why am I pissed off in the first place? He’s apparently just saved me from the most uncomfortable of situations. Or maybe not. Ohkura is glancing back up at me.
From the corner of my eye I can tell Murakami and Subaru are approaching, so I guess the time is really up.
"Can you meet me tonight?"
"Eh?"
Aren't we over yet? That is to say, as we have never started anything.
"I want to explain at least why it did happen that night, of all things.”
Never before and never again, right, Ohkura?
"You needn't. We don't need to talk about it anymore, anyway". I’m harsher than I would like to be. I can’t help it.
I tripped over my own weakness called Ohkura, I’m the one to blame. He was just there, he simply pushed me a little bit over the edge. He’s not at fault.
“Your treat, Ohkura”, I finally offer.
“Needless to say, Ryochan,” he suddenly smiles at me, and I suddenly feel too hot.
Maybe I should have treated him.
*
We’re on a terrace of a pub, it’s unusually quiet in here. The lights of Tokyo by night make quite up for the lack of illumination in here.
I look up at Ohkura’s profile in the dim light as he lights up a cigarette.
“Haven’t you stopped yet?”
He makes a weird face, glancing at me.
“Guess who’s at fault,” he hastily replies.
“You don't want to miss our next con for sure,” I retort back.
He stares, as if unsure whether I’m acting more like a mother or an asshole.
He makes me feel both, but he doesn’t have to know.
"You were the first in my bed," he says then, still smoking "the first guy, I mean".
Well, he’s not wasting time for sure.
"Seriously?! I'd say you looked like a fucking pro, Ohkura!"
He glares at me, that's probably not what I should have said. But it was embarrassing enough for me, letting him take care and realize at the same time that I was also letting him possess me.
"I thought..." he pauses, and looks almost afraid of what he's going to say next. "I thought it was now or never, Ryochan. You seemed relaxed and I was drunk, enough to feel more accommodating than usual, I thought that maybe it was the right time to give in to you and give up right after that. If you ever wanted to see the worst of me, there you could have had a go. And then, it would have been over for sure. I never had the guts of telling you straight, that is."
Wait. Wait.
What the fuck is he saying? Give up on me?
"Give up on me, Ohkura? Telling me what, even?"
When he glances up, he looks so shy I cannot even tell, his dark eyes impossible to avoid.
"Well, that I like you."
Eh?
Ehhh?
He likes me? He likes me how, exactly?
He likes me by flirting and clinging to everyone else.but.me.every.damn.day?
He likes me by rejecting all my invitations for days out?
Well... it would be very Ohkura-ish. Really. He can be such a girl sometimes.
And I feel so stupid. So fucking stupid. Why did I never notice such stupid details?
“You like me… how, exactly?” I hear myself asking. Idiotically.
“Uhm...the romantic way, I think” he replies “I mean, the worst one, right?”
“Oh”, I let out. He is still staring at me.
His supposed confession does not make things easier between us. We’re so uncomfortable around each other right now I honestly hate all of this.
“Well, it’s some… news indeed, Ohkura.”
"So when you left, it was not because I sucked?"
I blink.
Is he still thinking about that?!
"You lured an orgasm out of me, I'd hardly call that a failure, Ohkura!" I tell him, quite bewildered. With
quite pink cheeks.
"Then why did you leave like that?"
"You didn't seem to care that much, anyway."
"I simply didn't know how to behave around you. It's not like I wake up next to a guy every morning, even if
said guy is the Sexy Osaka Man."
He makes me grin, one point for him.
My mind goes back to that evening and the way the half-drunken Ohkura had me pinned to he wall of the
elevator.
I had pushed him away, he had put his luscious hands on my waist and forced me into a kiss. I had told him he was playing with fire.
"I'm a really naughty boy, Ryochan" he had replied, and I had been thrown onto his bed even before I could realize how we had gotten in there.
Wait.
Let’s sum up it all: he doesn’t know I like him, yet he likes me back, we had sex and it rocked. This should lead to a happy ending, right?
No. No. It’s missing from this story, instead. There won’t be anything like that for us.
He’s looking at me with hopeful eyes. He’s staring so much it hurts.
Well, now I CAN TELL he likes me, but it’s so wrong. It’s not how I could ever imagine it would be.
I’m not cut out for this, it hurts even deeper, knowing that I know this, when he’s still oblivious. And even if he did know, it wouldn’t make things easier. It’s better this way.
I don’t wanna be the one he fucked that night, despite the way I inappropriately feel for him. I like him, but
I won’t ever be a homo for him.
Never ever.
“When you fell asleep at my place, Ryochan… well, that was rather unexpected and very cute of you. It was as if you were telling me, you trust me and you could relax. It felt good knowing that, you know?"
I stare.
He’s so naively blunt I definitely recognize him as the Ohkura I’ve known for ages, his voice is so sweet I don’t recall him using this tone with anyone else before. He’s desirable and right now I’d wish I were the cig stub he has just thrown into the bin.
Sex has lifted the veil between us, we can reach each other if we try. He’s, well, got to understand something I wasn’t even able to detect. I’m here, desperately looking for some excuses to cast my lust for him away, right when he’s just found a way to get to me. Read me through.
That is when I do understand it would be not okay to let go, not yet.
“Can we meet again? I can be less picky about your invitations, should there ever be any again.” He has started with another cigarette.
He’s SO hopeful. But the pain churning my stomach is lessening and I don’t know why.
“I don’t even date girls, Ohkura. Not even them. I just… well, you know. Why should I try it out with a guy?”
I’m being honest. I’m back to being myself.
“Why not, Ryochan?”, he smirks.
He’s being cheeky and he knows I like it.
I suppose that can’t be helped.
*
We're kissing again. He’s a good kisser indeed. We've been making out for I don't know how long, and the most shocking thing is that not a single piece of clothing is missing from both of us.
It's just touching, exploring, enjoying. To the point of never coming back.
There's even food play involved, Ohkura is seriously nuts.
As long as he’s the one in charge of the cleanup, I don’t mind it at all. I just wish he would call my name a lot more often instead of keeping stuffing his mouth with things or, well, shoving them into mine.
Three hours later it's almost late in the morning, we haven't slept one single second and I'm letting him getting me as exhausted as he wants, to prove me he can have me worn out.
He's flirty and naughty and a female version of him would be called a whore indeed but the trouble is, he is not.
His curly locks fell over his left eye, he cannot push them away because his hands are busy with my cock so
I take the risk and do it instead.
The contact with his hair feels new. I rarely praise his haircuts, like them even less. But when there comes
the time you don't care, you simply don't care.
It's him, it's always him I crave for, blonde or curly or not.
He smiles and pushes further into me and I protest a little, because I need him even deeper and this gorgeous feeling is us. Ours.
He slumps over me when we're done, he's panting as much as I do, he's smiling and still crying with pleasure onto my chest and I don’t know why but I'm utterly glad he was born. Seriously. Him, his voice, his pretended overweight body and his fucking charming everything.
I take the risk once again and embrace him, quite tight. I can even feel his moles on my tips when my hands run up and down his spine.
We're naked and sweaty and glued together, we smell horrible. The best thing ever.
I feel nothing.
I feel everything.
I feel like I've never felt before.
My body is heavy and flimsy, I don't know where my skin ends and where his own one starts. We're one, now.
There is bliss, for now.
Starting off with a meal shared a few hours ago in a place of which I can’t even remember the name. I was too focused on him, the way he eagerly told me about his improvements on the radio and so on.
If it’s him talking for hours, I’m okay with that. He knows how to never ask me to pull myself to a point I don’t wanna reach.
A wall of mine has collapsed: I know I'm severely in love with this guy and there are even moments when I think I don't fucking care if this is not what the world expects of me to be.
Moments, though.
Are we dating?
I don’t wanna ask myself.
He makes me feel good, no, wait, even better than just good.
He makes me feel okay the way I am, even if I know I’m definitely not.
He whispered in my ear that I'm an exceptionally charming guy. He's a big fat liar but good at making
people believe him.
He looks up at me and he's so strikingly handsome, despite being terribly worn out, it makes me feel envious.
"Hot bath together?" he asks with a pout.
God, his pouts.
"Sorry, I want to keep sniffing how bad you smell after sex as long as I can, so that's a no for now".
He cracks up.
"You're a perverted guy, Ryochan”, he tweets, nuzzling his nose against my cheek before kissing my throat.
“How about some more, then?”, he asks between new caresses, and his hands are asking for permission to spread my legs again.
I let him. He’s actually pretty skilled and he knows, by now, how I like it best.
I don’t mind if he fucks me thrice. It clashes so badly with my lack of acceptance of my vague homosexuality it’s almost embarrassing, but that’s another thing I don’t care for when we’re together.
Fragments of peace carved into my way too messy life.
I realize it's my own voice, the throaty one pleading for more, when he starts stroking my length once again. I search for his eyes, he looks quite proud with himself when he confesses in a sweet voice: “I want to ride you.”
And he’s not lying: he's coating me with lube before his body descends on mine, joining mine in a swift movement. The next moment we're dancing, our eyes connected, our breaths ragged from too much lust shut in such little space.
He squeals and growls, I’m scared he might pass out but he makes it until the very end, when we’re so exhausted there’s nothing else left, not even for breathing or gratitude.
This is what lovemaking implies.
I feel too much.
I’m holding him again.
“Ohkura?”
“Mmh?”
I’m at a loss. I don’t know exactly what to say. Before my eyes I still have those memories of him riding me and man, he was gorgeous. He is gorgeous. My fingers play with his nape, his hair is damp and messed up and he’s… he’s so much.
I kiss his cheek.
I’m… I don’t know, I feel… I don’t know.
I have him in my arms.
I’ve had him and he’s had me and this reciprocation is something new for me. For this kind of skinship.
He’s palming my ass while his tongue keeps licking my sternum. He’s ticklish.
“Who’s talking about perversion?”, I mock him.
He giggles against my shoulder blade.
“I see no perversion. This is just, well, love.”
He pretends to be casual, but I can tell he’s not breathing right now. His heart is pressed over mine and I feel every beats it skips.
“Love is complicated, Ohkura”, I retort.
“I know. But I don’t want to have sex without dating you, Ryochan. I know it’s embarrassing, but I do feel that way for you and… well, you already know the rest.”
He’s still panting a bit. I wonder how he manages to grasp such clear-sight during such a moment. Maybe the bliss of orgasm makes him so. I envy him. I’m just a melting pool of sensations.
“You remember being in charge of the cleanup, right?” I ask as I look at the mess that is his room right now.
“Mmh.”
“I’m not sure I could date you, Ohkura”, I speak frankly, for he deserves so.
I still have problems with myself. Big ones.
His breath has become lighter against my chest, but he does not reply. Weird of him.
“Ohkura, did you hear me?” I shake him a bit. He’s heavy.
No response, so I look down at him.
He’s heavy BECAUSE he’s sleeping like a log.
I want to laugh.
I must be mad.
*
"Ryochan, we've arrived".
As I open my eyes, I have a déjà vu feeling.
Once again, his voice makes me jolt -in a good way, though- and for a moment I don't realize where I am
and why.
And this is honestly embarrassing, the way I constantly let my guard down whenever this guy is around.
This guy who is sitting next to me, in the driver's seat of his car.
"I didn't mean to wake you up, because you were terribly cute" he smiles "but truth is, we've arrived. I'm sorry".
Memories of last night start creeping up within me as the drowsiness weakens, and this is as much embarrassing as I recall how I don't regret even a little bit of it.
He took me out by surprise and drove for hours until we were so far outside Tokyo that the profile of Mount Fuji had started appearing in the distance.
I didn't even ask what he was doing nor where we were going. I just trusted him.
We spent the whole night by a lone Sakura tree in full blossom on a hill, with some blankets and a lot of beer. We talked a lot, about things we had accurately avoided for so many years. I guess the scenery helped quite much, and Ohkura was eventually able to read through my uncommunicative mood and my possible temper and ask questions about that.
I grinned at his courage, or maybe he just got emboldened by knowing I could have gone nowhere back home, without him and his car.
He laughed so much. We laughed together.
We curled up in a blanket and dozed off right there, under a cherry tree in the middle of nowhere, a sloppy kiss Ohkura left on my cheek being the only display of the lingering emotions between us.
The Hanami I had never expected I'd have, how funny.
I can't even remember going back to the car, he must have piggybacked me for sure. Me, who has been
such a light sleeper for ages. Ohkura, the laid-back boy.
What is this guy doing to me?
I suppose this is the moment when the girl should thank her lover for such a gallantry surprise.
I can't. I don't wanna be the weak one.
This just proves he doesn't need me as much as I need him. For he's totally mastering his feelings, when I'm just on the verge of starting to cry or shout out how much he makes me unready to let go.
"I was scared" he suddenly says, bending to rest, arms crossed and head on the steering wheel.
"... You what?" I let out, my tone a bit too insolent and still, quite curious.
"I am. Definitely" he murmurs, and his voice comes out quite muffled but clear at the same time "I'm not
used to improvising Hanami escapades with people I care too much for. If you think back at it, it was rather bullshit, right?"
"Probably" I concede "but I'm also bullshit, Ohkura. Who was the one providing you with the idea? Yasu?"
"Everyone else agreed, though" he admits "they said you just needed to be pushed, one way or another, and that it could be weird enough for you to even enjoy it".
He looks up and meets my eyes.
"They were wrong, weren't they?"
Any ordinary people would utter that short syllable, right now. But I can't find my voice, it's gone.
His eyes are becoming the saddest of things, and I hate it.
"Well, thanks for giving me the impression you were able to enjoy it" he goes on, in a cracked voice "It seems I just don't know how to reach the inner you, Ryochan, despite sex working so great between us".
True. Sex is great indeed.
Ohkura is.
Why am I going to turn him down like this, just because I don't know how to handle what's there between us?
Just because he's as scared as I am?
I blink twice and hold my breath.
What?
He’s scared, too.
"You’re scared" I repeat, as if I just discovered a new rule of the world.
"Like hell”, he nods, “but I know I’m not really behaving like you could rely on me and give me a true
chance. I’m still such an inexperienced child. It would be so much simpler if I could just leave you alone and not like you this much. But I can’t”.
He’s feeling remorseful as well?
He’s biting his lip so hard I can see it start bleeding.
This is gross.
I should feel like I want to run away from this, but I don’t.
I want to stay. I want to lick his mouth and tell him he’s a freak for wasting time with me.
But I don’t know how.
“I’m scared like hell, too. Remorse is there, too” I tell him. "Couldn't you be less scared, now that you know?”
Ohkura's eyes narrow.
"I already know you are, Ryochan. I’ve known since the very beginning. But this does not help at all. What's the point in remarking this little detail?" he asks, and sarcasm shows pretty clear in his voice.
Sarcasm. Great. Great.
Do it, Nishikido. Say it before you start panicking again, c’mon.
“It does”, I say "because it's good to know".
"It's good to know I'm a weakling?" he snorts, looking almost disgusted. The terrible thing is that he's quite cute at making faces.
"It's good to know we're the same" I reply. “I’m scared like hell because I feel for you, Tatsu”.
And that's all. And that's exactly what has been there between us and what I couldn't grasp until now,
before his words, despite it having been so crystal clear for ages.
I cannot decide to throw it away because it’s way larger than me. It has no boundaries.
And I’m completely into this. Into him. Him. I love him, even though he’s a guy. The most scandalous truth ever.
He’s widened his eyes, narrowed them right after my words.
“What do you mean?”
He’s so scared I can almost feel him crawling into his seat.
I reach out for his knuckle, he jolts before he actually lets my nail scratch his skin.
The bridge that is my arm shakes a bit, but won’t move.
Amidst all the fears and complications, there is us. And we're so different, but we’re also the same.
"Will you be offended if I say that was rather cute of you, even if it was not an idea of yours?"
He blushes a little, and I can't help but smile.
"You're lying. You were kind of tensed up while we talked.”
"I was just afraid you'd jump on me anytime, Ohkura. Sorry, if I still have some pride left".
He cracks up, and that's refreshing.
"That could not happen, I-"
"Anyway, this is not where you should have stopped by" I cut him off. He stares at me.
"This is the parking lot of your apartment complex. I drove you home." he says, matter-of-factly.
"You could have asked" I blurt out "I have no intention of staying right here right now" I cling a bit to him,
noticing small circles around his eyes.
"There are cameras in this parking, naughty boy" he warns me, almost whispering, but I plan no assaults right now.
"We’re going to your place. You didn't sleep properly last night" I explain "You drove for hours and never took a damn nap while at it. Someone has to check on you, Ohkura, because you never do and then hospitals cheer to host you."
He looks at me as if I was a caring mother and I hate him, for he's making me blush.
Damn him. The following moment he's almost moping on his jacket sleeve and this is even worse.
"I know I shouldn't be doing this" he hiccups "only girls mope for joy. I must look terrible".
"Yeah, definitely. You’re a guy, c’mon" I mock him, leaning back into my seat. It's a must-see. Ohkura crying for me. For this very despicable human being.
He wants me. He wants me and cannot stay away.
I want him to stay by my side. As a guy. As Ohkura, as the one he’s always been. Him.
He makes me want to feel freely for him. I will. I will. You will, Nishikido Ryo.
"I'm sorry, Ryochan” he goes on, “I know it's so complicated... way too complicated when it comes to
everyday life. But I love you and can’t help it," he confesses as straightforwardly as his passion for food, naps, drums, and so on.
I swear, it feels as breathtaking as in those romantic movies, when you feel back.
Stupid Yokoyama-kun, he should just stop mocking me for liking romantic movies.
What’s wrong about that?!
What’s wrong about feeling happy, now?
Nothing. There’s nothing standing between us but my stupid pride. Go to hell, pride.
It’s good not to be a totally straight guy if you can have an Ohkura to share your messy life with.
I can tell, now.
And even if there are cameras around, I leave a tiny kiss on his temple and tell him I feel exactly the same,
before sitting back in my seat.
I feel.
I don't care anymore.
*owari*
*owari*
Now's the time to repost the entry I wrote for mikinyan, I hope you'll appreciate too, have fun reading!
**
Title: Last fragment of me
Author: lalois
Fandom: Kanjani8
Pairings: RyOhkura
Rating: R+
Length: one-shot
Words: 5141
Genre: romance, introspection, angst
Warnings: some bad language. Written in 1st person POV.
Disclaimer: sadly I don’t own anything about Kanjani8, just my worship for my OTP.
Summary: Ryo is not willing to give it a try with Ohkura. He's not willing of letting go, either. In between the uncomfortable limbo, Ryo's most uncomfortable truth will come to light.
Written for: mikinyan for ryo-short exchange. Thanks a lot to my beta-reader!
Also available on Ao3
**
"Ryochan, please wake up."
I blink.
In the wake of said voice, some kind of memory is stirring within me, but somehow I cannot move, and I just keep dozing off.
"The manager has just called," the melodic voice goes on as I hear it floating here and there around the small room. "We're expected to meet in the office in half an hour's time. Just so you know before you start sulking, okay?"
I resolve to crack one eye open and manage to catch a glimpse of Ohkura's naked ass right before its owner disappears again from the restricted view these tons of messy duvets created around me.
Blankets are useless, if I may say.
But this is his place, not mine.
His rules, not mine.
The next moment he's suddenly towering beside the bed, over me, a deep frown marking his features as he snatches the pillow I didn’t realize I’m holding:
"Well, I’ve warned you twice, so now you will excuse me if I'm not letting you use the bathroom first, Ryochan."
He's forcing a mocking tone and a smirk is nearly opening up across his lips. Almost.
My gaze slides casually down and does not miss the fading spots still marking his bare skin.
We had sex last night, and I can't honestly explain to myself why it actually happened.
It was a first, it will probably be my last one with him, but there's some kind of lingering frustration, deep within me, I have to grasp and I feel like it's now or never.
"I'll trade that with a coffee to go, Ohkura. No problem, really."
I sit up to locate my scattered clothes, and start getting dressed.
"But-"
"You're not going to waste time over a stupid shower, right?" I try to persuade him. "I'm stopping by at my place before going to the office. I should arrive there right in time, don't worry."
He walks back and picks up his bathrobe, still a bit uncertain.
My foot slides into my boot. Oh God, boots, the handiest piece of clothing on the whole Earth. No wonder Ohkura rarely wears them.
I'm done, and said drummer waves me goodbye as I rush to the door.
"See you later then, Ryochan" he calls out.
I spare him my grin and I'm glad I'm off, for he'd easily figure out I'm being terribly fake.
*
I am wearing my sunglasses and keep my eyes closed while the taxi drives me home and once I'm there, I don't even bother to stop in the hall to get off the boots, I kick them straight away as I slump into bed.
I’m having a hard time breathing.
I slowly take off the shirt I was wearing , until I can smell Ohkura again on my own bare skin. I can still feel his skin on mine.
Yeah, I should take a shower, but I can't get rid of this right now.
As I close my eyes, a whole set of memories of his mouth taking care of me is haunting me and I don't think
I wanna push them away.
I need to stop time, right now, which is honestly weird of me, who usually cannot waste time thinking back
to things.
He did what I least expected from him, he let me get acquainted with his body.
He did not judge me.
I’m glad he did not, for I felt as if we got strangely, closely connected, and that's probably the reason why I almost bit my tongue when I came, in the end.
I felt like I had to cry, but tears cannot be allowed between us.
Roughness is, we're men after all.
I liked it, that goes unsaid.
And I like him, the guy. I like him.
I've recently come to terms with the fact that I'm possibly both sexually attracted to and emotionally involved with this guy I've known for ages. It took me long enough though, nights fully awake, several months of therapy at Shota's place and an expensive set of harmonicas I handed over to Subaru, who said nothing every time I grumbled over the phone, when I needed a few words from him.
But it’s not like nobody knows Ohkura is a never-ending temptation to me. I know it’s shameful of me, but I've seriously resisted. Long. Enough.
I still remember the soapy scent of his shampoo when he fell asleep by my side after the 47 tour, the awful T-shirt he was wearing when he lost at janken and when the guys wanted him to make the weirdest of faces as batsugame and our laughs after that, not to mention when he whined for so long that he was overweight and he decided he had to lose some kilos. In the end he lost too many, and I sulked over it.
Somehow, I can't get rid of none of those things.
Somehow, I didn’t realize my hands were taking care of me, thinking about him more often than not. Even now, as I recall what we did last night, and my lips are searching for his name when I come, again.
The hot water of the shower is not helping like I thought it would.
The fact that Ohkura and me ended up in bed together does not provide me with the answer for the frustration killing me inside.
What have I become?
I don’t want this to be.
I don’t want to be like this.
The man I thought I was, the one I would like to be, the fact that when If I dared to call this feeling by its
name, my whole world will be smashed to pieces.
I don’t want to feel anything.
He's luring the worst out of me, the Ryo I don't want anyone to see. The coward and the miserable one, the guy dominated by his most primordial feelings. Feelings that shouldn’t be right there in the first place.
And besides, he's hardly the easily readable person he pretends he is.
I know he’s not going to feel the same.
This feeling is painful.
*
"Why didn't you tell me you were not okay?"
As I look up, I can't fail to notice that Ohkura's questioning eyes are hard to avoid. The hardest thing ever.
"Sorry?"
He rolls his eyes.
"Last Monday. You left my place and never made it to the office. When I arrived there, manager-san told us
you called in sick", Ohkura explains with some kind of resentful tone, as if he's feeling remorseful for playing too hard with a poor sick Nishikido.
The problem is, I don't have an answer ready for him, and he can read that in my eyes. My lie.
"You regret it, right?"
"What?! NO, wait, I-"
"You didn't ask, I didn't ask either Ryochan, but this does not mean I cannot sense it when-“
"I didn't ask but you guessed it right," I cut him off, and I know this is not what I should be saying to make
things fade away but, apparently, I can’t help it. "No regrets, Ohkura. Not at all."
He does not look persuaded.
"Why did you leave like that, then?"
"I wasn't even supposed to sleep over," I snap.
"But you-”
“DOKKUN, OHKURA, Oi there!!”
Yokoyama-kun shouts and startles us. Why the heck is he shouting? We’re having a fucking break right now!
Wait. Why am I pissed off in the first place? He’s apparently just saved me from the most uncomfortable of situations. Or maybe not. Ohkura is glancing back up at me.
From the corner of my eye I can tell Murakami and Subaru are approaching, so I guess the time is really up.
"Can you meet me tonight?"
"Eh?"
Aren't we over yet? That is to say, as we have never started anything.
"I want to explain at least why it did happen that night, of all things.”
Never before and never again, right, Ohkura?
"You needn't. We don't need to talk about it anymore, anyway". I’m harsher than I would like to be. I can’t help it.
I tripped over my own weakness called Ohkura, I’m the one to blame. He was just there, he simply pushed me a little bit over the edge. He’s not at fault.
“Your treat, Ohkura”, I finally offer.
“Needless to say, Ryochan,” he suddenly smiles at me, and I suddenly feel too hot.
Maybe I should have treated him.
*
We’re on a terrace of a pub, it’s unusually quiet in here. The lights of Tokyo by night make quite up for the lack of illumination in here.
I look up at Ohkura’s profile in the dim light as he lights up a cigarette.
“Haven’t you stopped yet?”
He makes a weird face, glancing at me.
“Guess who’s at fault,” he hastily replies.
“You don't want to miss our next con for sure,” I retort back.
He stares, as if unsure whether I’m acting more like a mother or an asshole.
He makes me feel both, but he doesn’t have to know.
"You were the first in my bed," he says then, still smoking "the first guy, I mean".
Well, he’s not wasting time for sure.
"Seriously?! I'd say you looked like a fucking pro, Ohkura!"
He glares at me, that's probably not what I should have said. But it was embarrassing enough for me, letting him take care and realize at the same time that I was also letting him possess me.
"I thought..." he pauses, and looks almost afraid of what he's going to say next. "I thought it was now or never, Ryochan. You seemed relaxed and I was drunk, enough to feel more accommodating than usual, I thought that maybe it was the right time to give in to you and give up right after that. If you ever wanted to see the worst of me, there you could have had a go. And then, it would have been over for sure. I never had the guts of telling you straight, that is."
Wait. Wait.
What the fuck is he saying? Give up on me?
"Give up on me, Ohkura? Telling me what, even?"
When he glances up, he looks so shy I cannot even tell, his dark eyes impossible to avoid.
"Well, that I like you."
Eh?
Ehhh?
He likes me? He likes me how, exactly?
He likes me by flirting and clinging to everyone else.but.me.every.damn.day?
He likes me by rejecting all my invitations for days out?
Well... it would be very Ohkura-ish. Really. He can be such a girl sometimes.
And I feel so stupid. So fucking stupid. Why did I never notice such stupid details?
“You like me… how, exactly?” I hear myself asking. Idiotically.
“Uhm...the romantic way, I think” he replies “I mean, the worst one, right?”
“Oh”, I let out. He is still staring at me.
His supposed confession does not make things easier between us. We’re so uncomfortable around each other right now I honestly hate all of this.
“Well, it’s some… news indeed, Ohkura.”
"So when you left, it was not because I sucked?"
I blink.
Is he still thinking about that?!
"You lured an orgasm out of me, I'd hardly call that a failure, Ohkura!" I tell him, quite bewildered. With
quite pink cheeks.
"Then why did you leave like that?"
"You didn't seem to care that much, anyway."
"I simply didn't know how to behave around you. It's not like I wake up next to a guy every morning, even if
said guy is the Sexy Osaka Man."
He makes me grin, one point for him.
My mind goes back to that evening and the way the half-drunken Ohkura had me pinned to he wall of the
elevator.
I had pushed him away, he had put his luscious hands on my waist and forced me into a kiss. I had told him he was playing with fire.
"I'm a really naughty boy, Ryochan" he had replied, and I had been thrown onto his bed even before I could realize how we had gotten in there.
Wait.
Let’s sum up it all: he doesn’t know I like him, yet he likes me back, we had sex and it rocked. This should lead to a happy ending, right?
No. No. It’s missing from this story, instead. There won’t be anything like that for us.
He’s looking at me with hopeful eyes. He’s staring so much it hurts.
Well, now I CAN TELL he likes me, but it’s so wrong. It’s not how I could ever imagine it would be.
I’m not cut out for this, it hurts even deeper, knowing that I know this, when he’s still oblivious. And even if he did know, it wouldn’t make things easier. It’s better this way.
I don’t wanna be the one he fucked that night, despite the way I inappropriately feel for him. I like him, but
I won’t ever be a homo for him.
Never ever.
“When you fell asleep at my place, Ryochan… well, that was rather unexpected and very cute of you. It was as if you were telling me, you trust me and you could relax. It felt good knowing that, you know?"
I stare.
He’s so naively blunt I definitely recognize him as the Ohkura I’ve known for ages, his voice is so sweet I don’t recall him using this tone with anyone else before. He’s desirable and right now I’d wish I were the cig stub he has just thrown into the bin.
Sex has lifted the veil between us, we can reach each other if we try. He’s, well, got to understand something I wasn’t even able to detect. I’m here, desperately looking for some excuses to cast my lust for him away, right when he’s just found a way to get to me. Read me through.
That is when I do understand it would be not okay to let go, not yet.
“Can we meet again? I can be less picky about your invitations, should there ever be any again.” He has started with another cigarette.
He’s SO hopeful. But the pain churning my stomach is lessening and I don’t know why.
“I don’t even date girls, Ohkura. Not even them. I just… well, you know. Why should I try it out with a guy?”
I’m being honest. I’m back to being myself.
“Why not, Ryochan?”, he smirks.
He’s being cheeky and he knows I like it.
I suppose that can’t be helped.
*
We're kissing again. He’s a good kisser indeed. We've been making out for I don't know how long, and the most shocking thing is that not a single piece of clothing is missing from both of us.
It's just touching, exploring, enjoying. To the point of never coming back.
There's even food play involved, Ohkura is seriously nuts.
As long as he’s the one in charge of the cleanup, I don’t mind it at all. I just wish he would call my name a lot more often instead of keeping stuffing his mouth with things or, well, shoving them into mine.
Three hours later it's almost late in the morning, we haven't slept one single second and I'm letting him getting me as exhausted as he wants, to prove me he can have me worn out.
He's flirty and naughty and a female version of him would be called a whore indeed but the trouble is, he is not.
His curly locks fell over his left eye, he cannot push them away because his hands are busy with my cock so
I take the risk and do it instead.
The contact with his hair feels new. I rarely praise his haircuts, like them even less. But when there comes
the time you don't care, you simply don't care.
It's him, it's always him I crave for, blonde or curly or not.
He smiles and pushes further into me and I protest a little, because I need him even deeper and this gorgeous feeling is us. Ours.
He slumps over me when we're done, he's panting as much as I do, he's smiling and still crying with pleasure onto my chest and I don’t know why but I'm utterly glad he was born. Seriously. Him, his voice, his pretended overweight body and his fucking charming everything.
I take the risk once again and embrace him, quite tight. I can even feel his moles on my tips when my hands run up and down his spine.
We're naked and sweaty and glued together, we smell horrible. The best thing ever.
I feel nothing.
I feel everything.
I feel like I've never felt before.
My body is heavy and flimsy, I don't know where my skin ends and where his own one starts. We're one, now.
There is bliss, for now.
Starting off with a meal shared a few hours ago in a place of which I can’t even remember the name. I was too focused on him, the way he eagerly told me about his improvements on the radio and so on.
If it’s him talking for hours, I’m okay with that. He knows how to never ask me to pull myself to a point I don’t wanna reach.
A wall of mine has collapsed: I know I'm severely in love with this guy and there are even moments when I think I don't fucking care if this is not what the world expects of me to be.
Moments, though.
Are we dating?
I don’t wanna ask myself.
He makes me feel good, no, wait, even better than just good.
He makes me feel okay the way I am, even if I know I’m definitely not.
He whispered in my ear that I'm an exceptionally charming guy. He's a big fat liar but good at making
people believe him.
He looks up at me and he's so strikingly handsome, despite being terribly worn out, it makes me feel envious.
"Hot bath together?" he asks with a pout.
God, his pouts.
"Sorry, I want to keep sniffing how bad you smell after sex as long as I can, so that's a no for now".
He cracks up.
"You're a perverted guy, Ryochan”, he tweets, nuzzling his nose against my cheek before kissing my throat.
“How about some more, then?”, he asks between new caresses, and his hands are asking for permission to spread my legs again.
I let him. He’s actually pretty skilled and he knows, by now, how I like it best.
I don’t mind if he fucks me thrice. It clashes so badly with my lack of acceptance of my vague homosexuality it’s almost embarrassing, but that’s another thing I don’t care for when we’re together.
Fragments of peace carved into my way too messy life.
I realize it's my own voice, the throaty one pleading for more, when he starts stroking my length once again. I search for his eyes, he looks quite proud with himself when he confesses in a sweet voice: “I want to ride you.”
And he’s not lying: he's coating me with lube before his body descends on mine, joining mine in a swift movement. The next moment we're dancing, our eyes connected, our breaths ragged from too much lust shut in such little space.
He squeals and growls, I’m scared he might pass out but he makes it until the very end, when we’re so exhausted there’s nothing else left, not even for breathing or gratitude.
This is what lovemaking implies.
I feel too much.
I’m holding him again.
“Ohkura?”
“Mmh?”
I’m at a loss. I don’t know exactly what to say. Before my eyes I still have those memories of him riding me and man, he was gorgeous. He is gorgeous. My fingers play with his nape, his hair is damp and messed up and he’s… he’s so much.
I kiss his cheek.
I’m… I don’t know, I feel… I don’t know.
I have him in my arms.
I’ve had him and he’s had me and this reciprocation is something new for me. For this kind of skinship.
He’s palming my ass while his tongue keeps licking my sternum. He’s ticklish.
“Who’s talking about perversion?”, I mock him.
He giggles against my shoulder blade.
“I see no perversion. This is just, well, love.”
He pretends to be casual, but I can tell he’s not breathing right now. His heart is pressed over mine and I feel every beats it skips.
“Love is complicated, Ohkura”, I retort.
“I know. But I don’t want to have sex without dating you, Ryochan. I know it’s embarrassing, but I do feel that way for you and… well, you already know the rest.”
He’s still panting a bit. I wonder how he manages to grasp such clear-sight during such a moment. Maybe the bliss of orgasm makes him so. I envy him. I’m just a melting pool of sensations.
“You remember being in charge of the cleanup, right?” I ask as I look at the mess that is his room right now.
“Mmh.”
“I’m not sure I could date you, Ohkura”, I speak frankly, for he deserves so.
I still have problems with myself. Big ones.
His breath has become lighter against my chest, but he does not reply. Weird of him.
“Ohkura, did you hear me?” I shake him a bit. He’s heavy.
No response, so I look down at him.
He’s heavy BECAUSE he’s sleeping like a log.
I want to laugh.
I must be mad.
*
"Ryochan, we've arrived".
As I open my eyes, I have a déjà vu feeling.
Once again, his voice makes me jolt -in a good way, though- and for a moment I don't realize where I am
and why.
And this is honestly embarrassing, the way I constantly let my guard down whenever this guy is around.
This guy who is sitting next to me, in the driver's seat of his car.
"I didn't mean to wake you up, because you were terribly cute" he smiles "but truth is, we've arrived. I'm sorry".
Memories of last night start creeping up within me as the drowsiness weakens, and this is as much embarrassing as I recall how I don't regret even a little bit of it.
He took me out by surprise and drove for hours until we were so far outside Tokyo that the profile of Mount Fuji had started appearing in the distance.
I didn't even ask what he was doing nor where we were going. I just trusted him.
We spent the whole night by a lone Sakura tree in full blossom on a hill, with some blankets and a lot of beer. We talked a lot, about things we had accurately avoided for so many years. I guess the scenery helped quite much, and Ohkura was eventually able to read through my uncommunicative mood and my possible temper and ask questions about that.
I grinned at his courage, or maybe he just got emboldened by knowing I could have gone nowhere back home, without him and his car.
He laughed so much. We laughed together.
We curled up in a blanket and dozed off right there, under a cherry tree in the middle of nowhere, a sloppy kiss Ohkura left on my cheek being the only display of the lingering emotions between us.
The Hanami I had never expected I'd have, how funny.
I can't even remember going back to the car, he must have piggybacked me for sure. Me, who has been
such a light sleeper for ages. Ohkura, the laid-back boy.
What is this guy doing to me?
I suppose this is the moment when the girl should thank her lover for such a gallantry surprise.
I can't. I don't wanna be the weak one.
This just proves he doesn't need me as much as I need him. For he's totally mastering his feelings, when I'm just on the verge of starting to cry or shout out how much he makes me unready to let go.
"I was scared" he suddenly says, bending to rest, arms crossed and head on the steering wheel.
"... You what?" I let out, my tone a bit too insolent and still, quite curious.
"I am. Definitely" he murmurs, and his voice comes out quite muffled but clear at the same time "I'm not
used to improvising Hanami escapades with people I care too much for. If you think back at it, it was rather bullshit, right?"
"Probably" I concede "but I'm also bullshit, Ohkura. Who was the one providing you with the idea? Yasu?"
"Everyone else agreed, though" he admits "they said you just needed to be pushed, one way or another, and that it could be weird enough for you to even enjoy it".
He looks up and meets my eyes.
"They were wrong, weren't they?"
Any ordinary people would utter that short syllable, right now. But I can't find my voice, it's gone.
His eyes are becoming the saddest of things, and I hate it.
"Well, thanks for giving me the impression you were able to enjoy it" he goes on, in a cracked voice "It seems I just don't know how to reach the inner you, Ryochan, despite sex working so great between us".
True. Sex is great indeed.
Ohkura is.
Why am I going to turn him down like this, just because I don't know how to handle what's there between us?
Just because he's as scared as I am?
I blink twice and hold my breath.
What?
He’s scared, too.
"You’re scared" I repeat, as if I just discovered a new rule of the world.
"Like hell”, he nods, “but I know I’m not really behaving like you could rely on me and give me a true
chance. I’m still such an inexperienced child. It would be so much simpler if I could just leave you alone and not like you this much. But I can’t”.
He’s feeling remorseful as well?
He’s biting his lip so hard I can see it start bleeding.
This is gross.
I should feel like I want to run away from this, but I don’t.
I want to stay. I want to lick his mouth and tell him he’s a freak for wasting time with me.
But I don’t know how.
“I’m scared like hell, too. Remorse is there, too” I tell him. "Couldn't you be less scared, now that you know?”
Ohkura's eyes narrow.
"I already know you are, Ryochan. I’ve known since the very beginning. But this does not help at all. What's the point in remarking this little detail?" he asks, and sarcasm shows pretty clear in his voice.
Sarcasm. Great. Great.
Do it, Nishikido. Say it before you start panicking again, c’mon.
“It does”, I say "because it's good to know".
"It's good to know I'm a weakling?" he snorts, looking almost disgusted. The terrible thing is that he's quite cute at making faces.
"It's good to know we're the same" I reply. “I’m scared like hell because I feel for you, Tatsu”.
And that's all. And that's exactly what has been there between us and what I couldn't grasp until now,
before his words, despite it having been so crystal clear for ages.
I cannot decide to throw it away because it’s way larger than me. It has no boundaries.
And I’m completely into this. Into him. Him. I love him, even though he’s a guy. The most scandalous truth ever.
He’s widened his eyes, narrowed them right after my words.
“What do you mean?”
He’s so scared I can almost feel him crawling into his seat.
I reach out for his knuckle, he jolts before he actually lets my nail scratch his skin.
The bridge that is my arm shakes a bit, but won’t move.
Amidst all the fears and complications, there is us. And we're so different, but we’re also the same.
"Will you be offended if I say that was rather cute of you, even if it was not an idea of yours?"
He blushes a little, and I can't help but smile.
"You're lying. You were kind of tensed up while we talked.”
"I was just afraid you'd jump on me anytime, Ohkura. Sorry, if I still have some pride left".
He cracks up, and that's refreshing.
"That could not happen, I-"
"Anyway, this is not where you should have stopped by" I cut him off. He stares at me.
"This is the parking lot of your apartment complex. I drove you home." he says, matter-of-factly.
"You could have asked" I blurt out "I have no intention of staying right here right now" I cling a bit to him,
noticing small circles around his eyes.
"There are cameras in this parking, naughty boy" he warns me, almost whispering, but I plan no assaults right now.
"We’re going to your place. You didn't sleep properly last night" I explain "You drove for hours and never took a damn nap while at it. Someone has to check on you, Ohkura, because you never do and then hospitals cheer to host you."
He looks at me as if I was a caring mother and I hate him, for he's making me blush.
Damn him. The following moment he's almost moping on his jacket sleeve and this is even worse.
"I know I shouldn't be doing this" he hiccups "only girls mope for joy. I must look terrible".
"Yeah, definitely. You’re a guy, c’mon" I mock him, leaning back into my seat. It's a must-see. Ohkura crying for me. For this very despicable human being.
He wants me. He wants me and cannot stay away.
I want him to stay by my side. As a guy. As Ohkura, as the one he’s always been. Him.
He makes me want to feel freely for him. I will. I will. You will, Nishikido Ryo.
"I'm sorry, Ryochan” he goes on, “I know it's so complicated... way too complicated when it comes to
everyday life. But I love you and can’t help it," he confesses as straightforwardly as his passion for food, naps, drums, and so on.
I swear, it feels as breathtaking as in those romantic movies, when you feel back.
Stupid Yokoyama-kun, he should just stop mocking me for liking romantic movies.
What’s wrong about that?!
What’s wrong about feeling happy, now?
Nothing. There’s nothing standing between us but my stupid pride. Go to hell, pride.
It’s good not to be a totally straight guy if you can have an Ohkura to share your messy life with.
I can tell, now.
And even if there are cameras around, I leave a tiny kiss on his temple and tell him I feel exactly the same,
before sitting back in my seat.
I feel.
I don't care anymore.
*owari*
*owari*