Do Scars Fade: a Heisei Kumi fanfic (15/18)
Author: ryosukekoibito
Pairing: Keito-centric, with some side Ariyama and Chiitaro
Rating: R/NC-17
Warnings: Violence; Consensual sex between adults
Genre: Slice of life
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone.
Summary: Keito is left in a state of depression after the loss of his boyfriend, but with the help of his housemates he begins to regain his appreciation for life, and find happiness again.
A/N: This is another instalation in my Heisei Kumi AU! This fic is a direct sequel to Sequence of Upsets, and is the third one written from Keito's perspective. If you haven't read Sequence of Upsets, or the first fic, My New Family, then you may be confused. This fic starts at the end of February 2014, so about six months afterSequence of Upsets ends. Enjoy!Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14
Takaki turned back around to face Keito, taking Keito's coat and sliding it off of his shoulders for him, tossing it by the door. Keito could still feel adrenaline and something else churning through his veins, and he was very aware of himself, of the rise and fall of his chest and the way his arms hung by his sides, and he consciously fought the urge to bite at his bottom lip. Takaki stepped in close, their bodies barely a hair apart, and the older man met his eyes.
"Are you sure about this, Keito?" Takaki was calm, his tone steady and assuring, and it made Keito feel more comfortable, more confident in his decision as he said
"Yes." Takaki leaned in and Keito shut his eyes, his mind wandering for a moment back to his kiss with Hikaru in the rain. But then Takaki's lips were on Keito's own, and it was nothing like kissing Hikaru. Keito put his hands on Takaki's shoulders, trying to anchor himself as he reciprocated the kiss. Takaki was very confident, his lips working on Keito's, moving and teasing Keito's open, and it took Keito a few moments to figure out how to reciprocate. Takaki's hands ran down Keito's chest until they were on his hips, and the older man pulled Keito in closer to him, their chests close, brushing with each breath. Keito could smell Takaki's shampoo, and that too was different, the scent one he associated completely with his housemate.
Takaki kissed him for a while, just standing there, and Keito felt himself relaxing into it. Takaki's lips and tongue worked away any remaining anxiety he was feeling, and he let his hands move down Takaki's arms, before settling on the older man's hips, mirroring the way Takaki's rested on his. It was then that Takaki pulled back a little, breaking away from Keito's lips and trailing kisses down to his ear, murmuring
"The bed." He pulled Keito over to his bed, Keito sitting on the edge of it, Takaki standing between his legs and fiddling with the hem of Keito's shirt. Keito helped him pull it over his head, barely getting the garment off before Takaki's lips were on this throat, the older man slowly pinning him to the bed as his lips found the juncture where Keito's neck and his shoulder met. Keito felt a shiver of arousal run down his spine, a feeling he hadn't felt in months, and he gasped. Takaki chuckled. "Just you wait." He murmured, his fingers already working on Keito's belt, undoing the buckle. "Do you like blowjobs Keito?" Takaki asked, his eyes dark, betraying his own arousal. Keito pursed his lips, shrugging. Takaki's eyebrows furrowed, his hands stilling on the clasp of Keito's jeans.
"What does that mean?" The older man asked.
"I-I've never-" Takaki blinked in surprise. But he leaned in, pressing another hot kiss to Keito's lips, cutting him off.
"Well then you're going to love this. Just let me take care of you." Takaki's words were said as the older man got down on his knees, and Keito sat up, not sure what to do as Takaki tugged sharply on his waistband. Keito got the hint, lifting his hips and letting Takaki pull his jeans and underwear down his thighs, the fabric pooling around his ankles. He felt slightly embarrassed, completely naked while Takaki hadn't shed any of his own clothing, but Takaki's hands trailed up his thighs, Keito hyper aware of every brush of skin as the older man leaned in, taking Keito's erection into his mouth.
Keito forgot to breathe for a moment, his eyes scrunching shut, his fingers curling into the sheets on Takaki's bed as Takaki took more and more of him into his mouth. It felt amazing. It was so hot and wet, and when he felt Takaki's tongue moving along his length he couldn’t help but let out a whine. Takaki knew just what to do to make him feel good, and he grew harder and harder as Takaki worked, Keito just sitting there, still, reveling in the sensations. Behind his shut his eyelids however, he was met with the sudden mental image of Hikaru on his knees, the tattooed leader's warm hands on Keito's thighs, his lips hot on Keito's erection. Keito's eyes popped open, and he looked down at Takaki, trying to shake the thought, embarrassed and ashamed.
Eventually Takaki pulled away, and Keito reached out for the older man on instinct, offering Takaki a hand and standing, pulling Takaki to his feet. He began unbuttoning Takaki's shirt, slipping it off of his housemate's shoulders and feeling the older man's hot skin under his hands as he ran them along his lower back. Takaki's body was much softer than Shoon's had ever been. Where with Shoon Keito had felt nothing but hard muscle and knotted, uneven strips of skin-harsh scars from old wounds-Takaki's body had some give, soft and pliable under Keito's fingers. Keito kissed him, Takaki reciprocating enthusiastically, pulling away to shove off his pants, his own erection freed. They ended up on the bed, Takaki over him, and when the older man pulled the condoms from his bedside table Keito thought he knew what to expect, but then Takaki took the little packet and handed it to him.
"You do me." The older man said, snatching a bottle of lube and passing it to Keito as well. Keito froze, looking up at Takaki, at the easy smile on his housemate's lips. "You've never done it this way have you?" Takaki asked. Keito shook his head. Shoon had always been on top, had always taken on that role in bed. Keito hadn't minded, in fact he'd loved it, but when Takaki said "It's gonna be great. I'll ride you." Keito found himself nodding. It wasn't a decision he would regret.
Keito woke in the morning to find himself still in Takaki's bed, the older man sitting up next to him, awake and dressed, his hair damp as if he'd just returned from the shower. Keito sat up, feeling embarrassed for oversleeping, but Takaki didn't seem annoyed, just glancing down at him and saying casually
"'Morning." Keito nodded, eyes searching the room for his clothes. His pants and underwear were still in a ball by the edge of the bed. On the other side of the room, Inoo's bed was still made. He hadn't been by. Keito felt relieved. "How are you?" Takaki asked, drawing Keito's attention. The older man was watching him carefully, trying to gauge Keito's wellbeing. Keito was touched by his housemate's concern. Takaki had done so much for him in the past twelve hours.
"I'm okay. Thank you for everything Takaki, you've been so wonderful." Takaki just blinked at him. "It...it was fun. I mean-" Keito could feel his face growing red. He didn't know what he was supposed to do, supposed to say in this type of situation. Casual sex had always seemed like a very foreign concept for him, one he'd never thought he would subscribe to, and now... But Takaki smiled, chuckling softly.
"It's different when it's not with someone you love." Takaki said. "It's fun, but...when it's with someone you love there's just...more. More emotions, more feeling behind the actions. When you're in love with the person your fucking, it's just better." His voice rang with understanding, and Keito nodded, feeling a little bit better. Takaki had voiced exactly what he'd been feeling. It had been new, the sensations his body had gone through had been amazing, and Takaki had been not only spectacular in bed, he'd also been very considerate of Keito. Yet, Keito had felt that there was something missing, and while he did care for Takaki, while he'd give his life for his friend, he wasn't in love with him.
"Go hop in the shower." Takaki said. "I think Yamada and Daiki are making pancakes."
"Thank you." Keito said, and Takaki just smiled, looking down into his lap.
"You're embarrassing me, Keito." The older man told him, and Keito nodded, falling silent as he slipped out of bed, scooping up his clothes, throwing his underwear on before slipping out the door, dashing over to the-thankfully empty-bathroom and shutting the door behind himself in relief. No one knew about his night with Takaki. No one had seen him run practically naked from their housemate's bedroom. He wanted it to stay that way. For some reason the thought of the others knowing left a sour taste in his mouth. His night with Takaki had been something experimental for him. It had been him testing the waters, and the experience had left him with one rather confusing, intimidating thing to ponder over.
He ran the shower, stepping in and sighing as the hot water hit his body, rinsing away the dried sweat and any other bodily fluids from his skin. As he washed, he let himself think, trying to hold back any irrationalities and analyze himself logically, his one point of concern filling his mind. When he'd been with Takaki, on more than one occasion he'd had fleeting thoughts of Hikaru. He'd always pushed those images of Hikaru out at once, but he'd had them. What did that mean? Why had that happened? He wasn't sure. He'd never thought things like that about any of his other housemates. Never fantasized about anyone the way he'd fantasized about Hikaru last night.
He didn't understand it, and it scared him, and the more he thought about it, the more it scared him. Because the thoughts of Hikaru touching him like that had been good thoughts. They'd felt right, and he was ashamed of them, he didn't want them to feel right. Hikaru had asked him to forget a simple kiss, and Keito had already failed him in that one request. He couldn't keep thinking of Hikaru in this manner. Hikaru had always been special. What Keito wanted more than anything was to do what Hikaru asked of him. He didn't want to disappoint Hikaru. And even more terrifying was one little thought, far in the back of his mind. One that he wouldn't even let himself consider, because nothing, absolutely nothing good could come from it. What if I'm in love with Hikaru?
Keito's day was surprisingly normal. He supposed that the rest of the world didn't care if he got laid for the first time in seventeen months, but he felt different, and he'd half expected the whole house to know-or at least figure out what had happened by the end of the day. But aside from Yuto asking if everything was okay-the younger man still concerned after Keito had suddenly left the previous evening-no one asked any questions, or gave any indication that they had noticed anything. Even Hikaru, whose eyes Keito had a hard time meeting, didn't say anything. Although he did give Keito a look of confusion when he slung an arm across Keito's shoulders that morning during their card game and Keito blushed magnificently, his heart pounding in his chest, as he remembered for a split second his fantasies involving their tattooed leader.
To Keito's amazement, Takaki's interactions with him in the weeks to come didn't change at all. The older man didn't give any hint that their relationship had changed in any way, and perhaps-Keito thought, watching the older man laugh and joke with Yabu one evening after dinner-it hadn't. Takaki didn't offer to sleep with Keito again, but even if he had, Keito wouldn't have gone through with it. He didn't regret his night with Takaki, but he knew that the next time he had sex, he wanted it to be with someone he loved. As Takaki had said, it was just better when there were feelings involved. And so Keito's life more or less got back to normal, the only real change after his night with Takaki the new lurking feeling of dread tugging at his conscious, the fear of the concept that he only allowed himself to consider late at night, in the small privacy darkness brought with it as he lay in his bunk. The fear of his possibly more than platonic feelings of affection for their Kumi-cho.
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