Antique Bakery fic
Jul. 1st, 2007 07:02 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
new_kateWrote this forever ago, never posted. Ono's first time - I know there is Fumi's dj somewhere (damn we wants it prescious) that does it way better, but... AU?
Word count: ~ 5500. NWS like woah.
The Legend of Ono Yusuke
He couldn’t stop crying. His eyes burned and his chest was so sore he could barely breathe, and everybody in the train car was staring at him. But all that only made him cry harder, shaking and choking on tears, and clenching his teeth so he wouldn’t howl in pain like a dog. He’d run out of tissues several stations ago and now had to wipe his face with the sleeves of his jacket. They were already soaked through, and he twisted them around his wrists to find dry spots, ducking his head away from disapproving glances. The cuffs were too short, shiny with wear and frayed at the edge. They’d all agreed that buying a new school uniform for his last year would be a waste of money, but now he regretted not putting his foot down. Maybe if he looked that little bit less pathetic this wouldn’t have happened – but no, of course it would anyway.
He didn’t expect it at all, not from Tachibana, who always seemed so sweet and kind. But how else could Tachibana have reacted, after all? He was so obviously straight; of course he was going to be repulsed. Confessing to him like that was the craziest idea Ono had ever had.
He thought he’d feel better if he told the truth. He had, for a moment. He’d felt brave and honest, hoping Tachibana might even feel a little flattered and would think about him fondly sometimes.
Stupid, so stupid. Saying “I love you” didn’t make it pure and pretty. Tachibana saw right through it, knew what it meant. It meant “I think about you when I jerk off.” It meant “I want to rip your clothes off and touch you everywhere.” It meant “I secretly hope you’re a freak like me.” Disgusting, awful – Tachibana was right to yell at him like that.
He never had much hopes for his life – he could never get married and have a family, could never find a good job if he was openly gay, didn’t want to live in secrecy and fear for decades. Besides, some people apparently could tell the truth just by looking at him. The only good thing he used to have was his secret fantasies. He’d spent hours locked in his bedroom, hand down his shorts, thinking of Tachibana’s face, the way he’d look naked, kneeling up on his bed, smiling, guiding Ono’s hands down. He couldn’t even have that anymore – just the thought of Tachibana hurt like a punch in the face.
When Ono fell in love for the first time, years ago, he knew it could never lead to anything. Student and teacher – it would be impossible even if the feelings were mutual, if sensei liked him too. But then he saw mother and sensei in bed together, and somewhere between crying and hating her guts he had a small creeping thought that maybe, if he dared, if he was bold like her, if he made a move and spoke about his feelings…
Well, now he knew what would’ve happened if he did. Tachibana’s words were still ringing in his ears. “You make me sick, homo! Go ahead and die!” Ono bit down on his wet sleeve, doubling over in his seat. The tears weren’t coming now, just painful dry sobs heaving through his whole body. He couldn’t – he really couldn’t stand this any longer, didn’t know how he could live through another day like this.
The car rolled to a stop at the Shinjuki station, and he staggered to his feet, heading out to change trains, moving by rote like a broken robot. And then it came to him like a wonderful revelation, and everything became simple and clear.
He could do just that. It would be so easy. He could go ahead and die. He could take a train to the nearest bridge and jump over the railing, and everything would be over in seconds. No more pain, no more humiliation, all this misery would end right there. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that earlier. He laughed out loud, stunned and relieved, and attracted more stares, but it didn’t matter. He would be dead in less than an hour, he didn’t care what people thought of him.
Everything around him looked somehow different now: brighter, prettier, even the air tasted sweeter like he already was missing it. He could do anything – go anywhere, act as wildly as he wanted, and there would be no consequences, no price to pay when he was gone. He could…
Before he even realized it, he was outside the station, heading towards 2nd avenue. He’d never seriously thought about going there before. Gay bars were for beautiful, daring, sophisticated people, who would just laugh at the clumsy virgin with dorky glasses and funny ears. But they could laugh if they wanted. It didn’t matter.
2nd avenue ambushed him like it had been lying in wait. Not that he’d expected some kind of prominent gate with “Homotown” on it, but a warning would’ve been nice. All of the sudden he was surrounded by young men with dyed hair, lights and music, bright clothes, loud voices, naked male chests. Everybody seemed to be talking to him, and he couldn’t understand a single world, completely dumbstruck by the idea that everyone around him, every single person, must be gay. Every one of them.
“Hi, are you looking for a good time?”
“Hello, would you like to come to the club? You are very welcome!”
“Aw, you’re so pretty! Are you looking for a job? You could make so much money!”
He blinked and walked faster, staring down. Too much, overwhelming. Men were brushing past him, touching his shoulders, like he was one of them, like it was all right for him to be here.
By the time he dared to raise his eyes again he’d left the lights and the noise behind, and was all alone on the pavement. He breathed easier and looked around, ready to explore. There was a narrow dark alley nearby, with a spot of light shining deep inside, spilling from an open door. He could just catch bursts of voices and laughter from within, and although the smell wafting from the passage was thick and disgusting, maybe a small quiet place would be better to start with.
He stepped inside and cringed when something squelched under his shoes. A hand landed on his shoulder, and he jumped, feeling his knees buckle and shake.
“Hey,” said somebody into his ear. “Aren’t you a cute little thing?”
A body pressed against him from behind, huge and hard. Another shadow separated from the wall and moved toward him. Ono let out a strangled squeak, twisted free and ran back into the lights and the crowds.
He halted in the middle of the street, suddenly calm, angry with himself. What did he have to be scared of? What was the worst that could’ve happened there? If they’d killed him, they’d just save him the trouble of doing it himself.
His legs were still weak. He needed to sit down.
The nearest sign was in English. It read “Lollipop”. As far as he could recall, a lollipop was a sweet thing on a stick that you sucked on.
“Sounds good,” he mumbled to himself and pushed the door open.
A soft hum of voices halted as soon as he stepped in, and all faces turned to him. Scrutinizing eyes were everywhere, trained on him, watching. He walked toward the bar, firmly staring straight ahead, feeling sharp glances on his back. What the hell was he thinking, walking into a gay bar in his old school uniform?
“I’m eighteen, I swear,” he told the bar master, climbing on a stool.
“That’s good to know,” the man said. “You’re still only getting water, but it will be in a martini glass with a cherry and hideously overpriced.”
He accepted the drink gratefully, only now realising how thirsty he was, gulped it down in seconds, shook the cherry into his mouth and ate it.
“Okay, free refills,” sighed the bar master and fixed him another glass. “I’m Toda, the owner. First time?”
Ono nodded, taking a sip. His ears felt hot and huge and probably glowed bright red.
“Everybody’s looking at me,” he whispered into the glass.
“That’s because you’re so sexy,” said Toda patiently, as if explaining to a child why the sky was blue. Ono glanced up to see if the bar master was laughing at him, but he seemed perfectly serious. He was quite young, maybe not even thirty, very handsome, and Ono liked the moustache. He hastily lowered his eyes before Toda-san could notice.
“Don’t worry, I’ll look after you,” the man said. “It’s in my interest that you have a good time and come here often!”
“They… like me?”
“Of course they do. You’re new, you’re cute and the school uniform was a great idea. What’s wrong? Didn’t you come here to meet people?”
“Yes,” he said, desperately trying to stop shivering. “I just don’t know how – I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, do you see anyone you like? Then try to catch his eyes and smile and see what happens.”
Ono glanced over his shoulder, cautiously surveying the room. He felt like a starving kid in a pastry shop – everything he saw looked delectable. His eyes fell on a tall young man with an open, strong face, exactly Ono’s type - oh, but the man next to him had long hair, tousled and shiny, falling down the side of his neck in loose tresses. And the one at the next table had not just a moustache like the bar master’s but also a small neatly trimmed beard, and the one by the wall had such lovely, pale-coloured eyes, and the one in the corner looked exactly like that actor from – oh God, what if it was really him?
Ono turned away and carefully crossed his legs, dizzy and horny. This was like a dream that had to end in sneaking his bedsheets into the washer. He finished his second glass of ice-cold water and considered asking the bar master for some tissues in case he started nosebleeding all over the counter.
Someone touched his elbow and leaned closer, enveloping him in subtle scents of aftershave and musk.
“Hi. My name is Taichirou. May I buy you another drink?”
It was that sexy tall guy – he’d left his table and now was right here, on the other barstool, his warm palm resting on Ono’s soggy worn sleeve. His eyes were dark and soft and Ono stared into them, not daring to move, forgetting to breathe.
“Taichirou-san,” he said finally. “P-pleased to meet you. I’m Ono Yusuke.”
The man smiled, tightening his fingers on Ono’s arm a tiny bit, and was about to say something when suddenly everybody in the room seemed to have shifted and the bar became incredibly busy, as if all the patrons became thirsty at exactly the same time.
“Tai-chan, so pushy!” said somebody. “Don’t jump ahead, give him a moment to look around!”
“So, you’re Yusuke?” asked the man with long hair, leaning over Ono’s shoulder. Cool silky strands brushed against Ono’s cheek, nearly making him whimper. “I’m Shirou. Can we call you Yu-chan?”
“Yu-chan! Let’s all welcome Yu-chan to the bar!” cheered another voice. A drink appeared in front of Ono, something layered and colourful, definitely not water. He was surrounded, crowded against the bar; the men were introducing themselves to him, smiling and friendly. Everybody was talking at once, pushing closer and patting his shoulders, and somebody’s hand was gingerly stroking his knee.
“Excuse me a moment,” he said politely and slipped off the stool, hastily pushing towards the bathroom.
He locked himself in the cubicle and leaned his forehead against the door, trying to steady his breathing. In the places where he’d been touched his skin still felt too hot, tingling under his clothes, and he was so hard that he could barely stand. He unzipped his pants, closed his eyes and reached down, curling his hand over himself. Taichirou-san had big, nice hands with long square-tipped fingers, they would feel so good doing this, and this…
The door of the next cubicle banged and clicked shut. Ono bit on his lip and stilled, holding his breath. It was silly, nobody could tell what he was doing, but he couldn’t bring himself to continue with somebody else so close.
“Ohh, yes,” whispered the man in the next cubicle over the rustle of clothes. “Right there, ah, this is good.”
“That new boy, Yu-chan, he’s so lovely,” said another voice, and Ono jumped, barely catching his pants before they slid off. “Bend lower, like this.”
“Do you think he’d agree to come home with us?” panted the first one. “Oh, that would be amazing. Would you like that?”
“Of course, but everybody is all over him already, we’re probably losing our chances…”
“I know, I can’t help it, I can’t wait… Aaah!”
Ono blinked in disbelief, staring at the fingers gripping at the wall between cubicles, tightening till the knuckles were white. He could hear loud gasps, wet squelching sounds and soft, rhythmic slaps – they were… they were…
He tightly squeezed his eyes shut and stroked himself, fast and harsh, unable to stop. The thin wall was creaking louder and louder. It sounded like it could give at any moment and both men would crash into his cubicle and land at his feet, entwined together, naked and hot and wanting him.
He stayed in long after he came, till they stopped kissing and whispering to each other and left the bathroom. He slipped out of the cubicle, washed his burning face with cold water and stared at his dishevelled, dazed reflection in a large mirror over the sink.
He looked exactly as always. Maybe even a little dorkier. There was no explanation for all this, it had to be some dark demonic magic at work. He moistened his hair with tap water and tried to style it a little, but it only ended up messier, like somebody just gave him a noogie.
“Yusuke, here you are,” said Taichirou-san, stepping inside. “I’ve been looking for you. I was worried they’d upset you and you left.”
“No,” he said and swallowed hard. Taichirou-san looked so good, and he couldn’t help wondering how he’d react if Ono tried to pull him into one of the cubicles, and pushed him against the wall, and kissed him right on the lips, and, and…
“I wanted to talk to you,” the man said. “When you walked in, I thought…”
He stepped closer and lightly touched Ono’s cheek, making his heart skip a beat.
“You’re very attractive, Yusuke, but you look like you’ve been crying,” he said softly. “Did something happen? Are you in trouble? We hear stories – can you tell me what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Ono blurted out, but Taichirou-san looked at him with such concern, like he really wanted to know. “That is – I, I g-got dumped today, but…”
“Oh. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine who would do such a thing,” said Taichirou. “They must have been blind.”
And of course it was just him being polite and kind, but it felt so good. Taichirou pulled on his sleeve, gently but insistently, and Ono stepped forward, mesmerised by the look in his eyes, by the sweet curve of his mouth. Before he knew it he was leaning on Taichirou’s broad, solid chest, and the man’s arm encircled him in a tight embrace. Ono pressed his cheek against the body-warm fabric, relishing this, barely restraining himself from rubbing against Taichirou with all his body and purring like a cat.
“Yes, it was awful,” he sighed, snuggling closer. He was getting hard again but couldn’t pull away even at the risk of Taichirou-san noticing. “Thank you so much for your sympathy.”
“Yusuke,” whispered Taichirou into his ear, smoothing his palms over Ono’s back. “You are so adorable. I can’t help myself, I want you. Would you like to go to a hotel with me? I promise I’ll make you forget all about…”
“Yes,” Ono gasped, clutching at his shirt. A hotel, that meant sex – he was going to have sex, Taichirou wanted to have sex with him, there could be no mistake about it. “Oh, yes, please, please. Is it far?”
Luckily, it was just around the corner. The clerk leered at them as they stood in front of the counter, panting after the short run and holding hands, but Ono, to his own surprise, completely failed be ashamed. He grinned smugly and squeezed Taichirou’s strong palm, feeling sorry for everyone who wasn’t going to get lucky tonight.
The room they booked was small and bare, with a huge bed that took up most of the space. Ono toppled right onto it, giggling and giddy, pulled Taichirou on top of him and cupped his handsome face with both hands, thrilled just to look at him this close, certain that he could never get enough of it. Taichirou was pressing him to the bed with the weight in his body, large, firm, radiating heat and intoxicating male smells. Their hips were touching, and Ono wasn’t worried anymore about being so obviously hard. He arched a little, letting Taichirou feel it, strained up, closed his eyes and brushed their lips together.
It felt nice, soft and warm and somehow made his whole mouth tingle inside. Taichirou’s tongue darted out, sliding between them in a slick rush, and Ono locked his arms around the man’s neck, tugging him down, licking at his lips fervently, catching his quick, liquor-scented breaths in his mouth.
“Ngh,” he gasped, kissing harder, thrusting his tongue in. The feeling was so raw and strong, like he was touching inside the other man’s body.
“You like kissing?” murmured Taichirou and traced Ono’s lower lip with his tongue, slowly and gently.
“I guess,” he said. “I didn’t think it would be this good, but…”
“You haven’t? Ever?” Taichirou pulled back, smiling down at him uncertainly. “Have you done anything before?”
“Uh, no. Is that okay?”
“Oh - of course. Don’t worry, we’ll take it slow.”
He kissed Ono again and rolled off him, but before Ono started to miss the weight and the feel of him, his hand slid – oh, right there, touching him through the clothes. Ono caught that wrist and ground harder against the hot, large palm. The sound of his zipper was too long and too loud, and suddenly his cock was naked and Taichirou’s hand was wrapped around it, skin to skin. It was so much like the fantasy he had in the Lollipop’s bathroom that for a second he almost believed he’d dreamt everything up and was still there, locked in a tiny cubicle, thinking of beautiful men while he jerked off.
But this, this was million times better than doing it himself. The grip was tighter and the rhythm was slower than he’d thought he wanted, but somehow every touch felt electric, scorching. He wanted to keep watching it, Taichirou’s fingers stroking up and down, circling the head – but it was already happening, tearing down his spine, making his eyes roll back, and he was coming, tossing his head against the mattress, choking down happy screams. Messy, it was probably splashing everywhere, but right now he couldn’t bring himself to care.
“You’re so sweet,” said Taichirou next to his ear. Ono peeled his eyes open to see him smile and lick at his stained fingers. His tongue was long, wet and pink and Ono wanted to kiss him again, to take it in his mouth.
“Tai-chan,” he said, struggling for breath, horny all over again. “That’s not it yet, is it? Can we do more? I want to try everything.”
“Of course. We can stay here all night, if you like.”
“All night,” he said and let his head loll back on the bed, grinning happily. “Oh, but I really should call home.”
He zipped up his pants, sat up and dialled the number, trying to come up with a cover story. To his relief, it was mother who picked up.
“I won’t be coming home tonight,” he told her. “Please tell father something good.”
“What’s going on, Yusuke? Where are you?”
“I’m in a hotel,” he said with a strange pang of petty satisfaction. “I’ve met somebody, and now we’re having sex.”
“Oh, Yusuke,” she gasped. “Yusuke…”
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Please have breakfast without me, I don’t know if I’ll get home in time.”
“Yusuke, wait. That person you’re with – is it… a girl?”
“Good night, mother.”
He hung up, turned around, and froze on the spot. Taichirou was naked. He was sitting on the bed, smiling and lazily stroking himself. He had a gorgeous body, slim yet nicely muscled, and Ono wanted to see and memorise all of it, but his eyes were hopelessly drawn to one place.
He reached out and touched the hot rigid length of Taichirou’s erection. It felt silky, smooth and alive, and Ono was dying to sink down on his knees and look at it up close, study every line, fill his nose with the warm smell he could barely catch, taste the moist skin at the tip.
“Let’s get your clothes off,” said Taichirou, gently staying his hands. He reached for the school jacket buttons, but Ono stepped back and stripped himself, hastily, wondering why today of all days he chose to wear his old blue briefs and Gundam undershirt. He quickly tossed the ugly underwear under the bed, took off his glasses and was pulled right away onto Taichirou’s lap.
It was unexpectedly comfortable, like he fit there perfectly. The first touch of the man’s palms on his naked sides made him flinch, and then lean into it, rubbing against his chest like he hadn’t dared before. It was so strange, finally being able to touch another man anywhere, any way he wanted. Taichirou kissed his neck, slow and soothing, and ran his hands down the curve of Ono’s ass, stroking there.
“I want to take you,” he said, slipping his fingers lower, rubbing them over tender skin. “Okay?”
Ono squeezed his shoulders, kissed his mouth and nodded too many times, unable to find words. Nothing seemed good enough for what he wanted to say.
“Come on. Lie on your front,” said Taichirou, guiding him down.
“But - then I wouldn’t be able to see you?”
“It will be easier for you this way.”
“I don’t care about that,” Ono said, wriggling onto his back. “Can we do it like this?”
He threw his legs apart and pulled Taichirou closer, steering him between his thighs, palming his erection the way he liked to do to himself.
“Oh, Yu-chan,” gasped Taichirou helplessly and ran shaking fingers over Ono’s hipbones. “Oh. You are so – wait, wait, we need to…”
He spent a long time struggling with small packets he pulled from under the pillow. Licking his ear clearly wasn’t speeding things up, but Ono couldn’t stop, enjoying the way it made Taichirou shiver and squirm over him.
“Lift your legs like this… Just try not to tense up. Oh God, Yusuke. I’ve never been with someone so innocent before. I’m sorry, it will probably hurt.”
And it probably did, not that Ono could concentrate enough to feel it. There was too much happening at once – Taichirou’s hands and mouth on his skin, the slide of their bodies together, the unstoppable motion rocking right through him, piercing and bright, the sharp realisation that this was real, this was actually happening, and he had to remember every second of it, burn it into his memory forever. But it kept building, every second so much better than the one before, and his brain couldn’t keep up with the flood of sensation, shutting out and drifting away.
Somewhere in all that there was a moment of panic, his body suddenly recoiling on a pure instinct, but he refused to pay attention. His body was lucky to be alive, it would take it. It was hard to believe now that he’d been going to kill himself just a couple of hours ago – and then he’d never had this, would’ve never known how good it was. He’d been hung up on Tachibana for years, actually years, when he could’ve had this so easily…
The sounds were tearing up from his chest, and he tried to choke them down, because that would be completely out of place. Taichirou froze above him, still except for that rock hard flesh that kept pulsing and jerking inside Ono like it couldn’t wait, couldn’t get enough.
“Yusuke? What’s wrong?”
And then Ono couldn’t keep it in, threw his head back and laughed out loud, banging his fist against the pillow.
“Ah, sorry, Tai-chan. I’m just – very happy.”
In the morning they had breakfast in bed - scalding bitter coffee and the best croissants Ono had in his life. They ate it sprawled naked on top of the covers, giggling like a couple of drunks, stuffing flaky pastry into each other’s mouths and licking at buttery-slick fingers.
“I have to see you again,” said Taichirou. “Please take my card – call this number any time. Day or night, whenever. You will call me, won’t you?”
“Sure,” said Ono, twirling the glossy rectangle in his fingers. It was so simple now, when their bare knees were touching and Taichirou’s lip was still dark and swollen where he’d bitten on it yesterday. But really, the man was at least five years older than him, a complete stranger, and Ono knew nothing about his work or family situation. Calling him on the phone… Where would he be when he picked up? What would they say to each other?
“Can I have your number as well?”
“Ah, Tai-chan, I don’t have a cellphone, and I live with my parents and sisters, so…”
“Okay, but you will come to the bar again? Please, Yusuke. I’ll be waiting for you every night.”
“I will,” he promised firmly. “I’m starting my summer job on Monday, and as soon as I get paid…”
“Don’t worry about money, Yu-chan, I’ll take care of everything, just show up. Please.”
Taichirou’s butter-slick fingers were gripping his wrist too tightly, and Ono carefully slipped it free and kissed him again, trying to make it good and reassuring, to smooth away the tense curl of his mouth.
The train trip home felt like falling into an alien parallel world. Everywhere he looked were attractive men, like they had been camouflaging themselves all that time and had finally come out of the hiding. He was certain everyone could easily tell he’d just gotten laid, but he couldn’t stop beaming at every face that came into view, or suppress a wince whenever the train jerked on the tracks. He was starting to feel small pulling aches all over his body, like after a rare PE lesson he hadn’t managed to dodge, but this time it was pleasant, like a lingering caress. Maybe all those workout enthusiasts in his school were onto something after all.
Mother was not in when he came home. No surprise. She’d spun some nice tale for father yesterday, something about an all-night karaoke party with his school friends, like he knew she would. She was great at making those up.
When they’ve finished clearing up after lunch, father handed him an envelope which contained more money than Ono felt comfortable holding.
“Your graduation present,” he explained. “I was planning to buy you something, but then I thought you would rather spend it yourself. Take you friends out, have some fun.”
Ono stuttered out his thanks and flung both arms around father’s shoulders like he hadn’t done in years. It was strangely disconcerting to hug him now, when they were both adult men, fully grown, sexually experienced, but he knew it wasn’t likely to get easier, so he held on, clinging hard while he still could.
“I don’t even know who your friends are these days,” father said, holding him gently. “You’ve been keeping to yourself lately. Maybe you could invite them over one day? I’d like to meet them.”
“You will,” he said, grateful and so guilty it made his guts clench. He’s been lying to father for so long, about mother, about himself. And now there was even more to lie about. “One day, I promise.”
He locked himself in his bedroom, lined up the whole content of his wardrobe on the bed and surveyed it all critically. His tightest jeans, the pair from his junior year, were too short now, so he carefully let out the bottom hem and artfully frayed it with scissors, achieving an almost designer look. Paired up a black turtleneck they looked effortlessly stylish, at least in his bedroom mirror. Less so later, reflected in the train doors, and bordering on lame when he checked himself out in the bar window before entering Lollipop. He needed better clothes. He really needed some better clothes.
He was half-certain that the magic wouldn’t happen again, that it was just a one-shot gift from powers unknown. He was wrong.
“Hey! It’s Yu-chan!”
“Aw, no school uniform. Still gorgeous though!”
“That’s Yu-chan? Woah, I see what you meant!”
Taichirou sprang at him right away, smiling brightly, and dragged him by the hand to the corner table.
“I’m so glad you came, Yusuke. Oh, you look so good.”
“I can’t stay the night today,” Ono told him. “Can we go to the hotel soon, so we have enough time?”
“Yu-chan,” said Taichirou and gripped his hand hard, looking ready to jump off the chair this instant. “Yes, of course. Oh, Yu-chan.”
“I was hoping we could do it the other way this time,” he said, and the man’s face blanked out completely, like he was putting an active effort toward not understanding.
“What?”
“I want to take you,” he explained, gently stroking his thumb over Taichirou’s wrist. “Okay?”
“But – Yu-chan,” the man mumbled, carefully keeping his voice down. “I don’t – you know I’m a...”
Ono raised his eyebrows a fraction and waited silently while Taichirou’s face tightened, crumbled and eventually settled into an expression of resigned consent.
“Oh, well… As long as… Uh, I need a drink. Hang on, I’ll go get us something.”
Ono was still looking thoughtfully at his retreating backside when Shirou plopped onto the vacated chair and grinned at him:
“Hey, Yu-chan, there are some guys who wanted to meet you. They just wouldn’t believe us when we told them...”
“We do now!” said another man, sliding closer. “I’m Ayame, nice to meet you. Hey, what did you do to Tai-chan? He’s positively glowing, and he’s not that easy to impress.”
“Hi, Yu-chan, we’ve met already but didn’t get to talk to you yesterday,” said a familiar voice. Two men stood by the table, wrapped around each other, and Ono blushed, remembering far too vividly how that voice hitched and echoed inside the bathroom when pleading for more, more, harder. He smiled at everybody, strangely moved in the way he couldn’t understand.
“We’re all going to Toru-san’s party later,” said Shirou. “He’s wondering if you want to come.”
He nodded at the man in the far corner, who waved at Ono cheerfully, crinkling his eyes in that trademark way like he was about to deliver the closing line of today’s episode.
“Isn’t that…”
“Shh. We just call him Toru-san over here,” Shirou said meaningfully and nudged Ono with his silk-clad elbow. “I don’t know if Tai-chan wants to tag along, but…”
“What is going on here?” demanded Taichirou, appearing at the table without any drinks. His face was angry and red, which really didn’t suit him at all. It actually looked quite unpleasant. “Yu-chan, what’s this?”
“Hey, hey, don’t be like that,” started Shirou, and Ono mumbled something about getting those drinks and slipped away to the bar just as they all started to hiss at each other like a bunch of irate snakes, trading veiled insults.
“Yu-chan,” sighed the bar master. “You‘re a troublemaker.”
“I don’t mean to be,” he said ruefully. “This isn’t what I wanted.”
All he really wanted was to go to the hotel and spend several hours making love, kissing and touching and trying new things. Taichirou was almost shouting now, and Ono tried not to look in that direction, as if he could pretend that had nothing to do with him and wasn’t his fault at all.
“Well, this will blow over in time,” said Toda without any real conviction. “It’s like this because you are new. And Tai-chan should spend less time telling everyone how good you were in bed if he doesn’t want to stir up interest.”
“I’ll just wait till they calm down,” Ono said miserably. “This is too embarrassing.”
He leaned on the counter and glanced around, looking for something to occupy himself with. There was a cute guy sitting at the very end of the bar: hardly older than himself, awkwardly hunched in his seat, nursing a very fake looking cherry martini and hardly daring to raise his eyes. Just like Ono was only yesterday, and that seemed so long ago now. Ono nodded to him warmly and gave him a sympathetic wink. The boy choked, jerked in his seat and knocked over his glass, spilling its contents all over the polished bar surface.
“Yu-chan!” groaned Toda and reached for the towel. Ono shrugged apologetically, picked the cocktail cherry from the clear puddle at his elbow, popped it into his mouth and smiled.
Word count: ~ 5500. NWS like woah.
The Legend of Ono Yusuke
He couldn’t stop crying. His eyes burned and his chest was so sore he could barely breathe, and everybody in the train car was staring at him. But all that only made him cry harder, shaking and choking on tears, and clenching his teeth so he wouldn’t howl in pain like a dog. He’d run out of tissues several stations ago and now had to wipe his face with the sleeves of his jacket. They were already soaked through, and he twisted them around his wrists to find dry spots, ducking his head away from disapproving glances. The cuffs were too short, shiny with wear and frayed at the edge. They’d all agreed that buying a new school uniform for his last year would be a waste of money, but now he regretted not putting his foot down. Maybe if he looked that little bit less pathetic this wouldn’t have happened – but no, of course it would anyway.
He didn’t expect it at all, not from Tachibana, who always seemed so sweet and kind. But how else could Tachibana have reacted, after all? He was so obviously straight; of course he was going to be repulsed. Confessing to him like that was the craziest idea Ono had ever had.
He thought he’d feel better if he told the truth. He had, for a moment. He’d felt brave and honest, hoping Tachibana might even feel a little flattered and would think about him fondly sometimes.
Stupid, so stupid. Saying “I love you” didn’t make it pure and pretty. Tachibana saw right through it, knew what it meant. It meant “I think about you when I jerk off.” It meant “I want to rip your clothes off and touch you everywhere.” It meant “I secretly hope you’re a freak like me.” Disgusting, awful – Tachibana was right to yell at him like that.
He never had much hopes for his life – he could never get married and have a family, could never find a good job if he was openly gay, didn’t want to live in secrecy and fear for decades. Besides, some people apparently could tell the truth just by looking at him. The only good thing he used to have was his secret fantasies. He’d spent hours locked in his bedroom, hand down his shorts, thinking of Tachibana’s face, the way he’d look naked, kneeling up on his bed, smiling, guiding Ono’s hands down. He couldn’t even have that anymore – just the thought of Tachibana hurt like a punch in the face.
When Ono fell in love for the first time, years ago, he knew it could never lead to anything. Student and teacher – it would be impossible even if the feelings were mutual, if sensei liked him too. But then he saw mother and sensei in bed together, and somewhere between crying and hating her guts he had a small creeping thought that maybe, if he dared, if he was bold like her, if he made a move and spoke about his feelings…
Well, now he knew what would’ve happened if he did. Tachibana’s words were still ringing in his ears. “You make me sick, homo! Go ahead and die!” Ono bit down on his wet sleeve, doubling over in his seat. The tears weren’t coming now, just painful dry sobs heaving through his whole body. He couldn’t – he really couldn’t stand this any longer, didn’t know how he could live through another day like this.
The car rolled to a stop at the Shinjuki station, and he staggered to his feet, heading out to change trains, moving by rote like a broken robot. And then it came to him like a wonderful revelation, and everything became simple and clear.
He could do just that. It would be so easy. He could go ahead and die. He could take a train to the nearest bridge and jump over the railing, and everything would be over in seconds. No more pain, no more humiliation, all this misery would end right there. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought of that earlier. He laughed out loud, stunned and relieved, and attracted more stares, but it didn’t matter. He would be dead in less than an hour, he didn’t care what people thought of him.
Everything around him looked somehow different now: brighter, prettier, even the air tasted sweeter like he already was missing it. He could do anything – go anywhere, act as wildly as he wanted, and there would be no consequences, no price to pay when he was gone. He could…
Before he even realized it, he was outside the station, heading towards 2nd avenue. He’d never seriously thought about going there before. Gay bars were for beautiful, daring, sophisticated people, who would just laugh at the clumsy virgin with dorky glasses and funny ears. But they could laugh if they wanted. It didn’t matter.
2nd avenue ambushed him like it had been lying in wait. Not that he’d expected some kind of prominent gate with “Homotown” on it, but a warning would’ve been nice. All of the sudden he was surrounded by young men with dyed hair, lights and music, bright clothes, loud voices, naked male chests. Everybody seemed to be talking to him, and he couldn’t understand a single world, completely dumbstruck by the idea that everyone around him, every single person, must be gay. Every one of them.
“Hi, are you looking for a good time?”
“Hello, would you like to come to the club? You are very welcome!”
“Aw, you’re so pretty! Are you looking for a job? You could make so much money!”
He blinked and walked faster, staring down. Too much, overwhelming. Men were brushing past him, touching his shoulders, like he was one of them, like it was all right for him to be here.
By the time he dared to raise his eyes again he’d left the lights and the noise behind, and was all alone on the pavement. He breathed easier and looked around, ready to explore. There was a narrow dark alley nearby, with a spot of light shining deep inside, spilling from an open door. He could just catch bursts of voices and laughter from within, and although the smell wafting from the passage was thick and disgusting, maybe a small quiet place would be better to start with.
He stepped inside and cringed when something squelched under his shoes. A hand landed on his shoulder, and he jumped, feeling his knees buckle and shake.
“Hey,” said somebody into his ear. “Aren’t you a cute little thing?”
A body pressed against him from behind, huge and hard. Another shadow separated from the wall and moved toward him. Ono let out a strangled squeak, twisted free and ran back into the lights and the crowds.
He halted in the middle of the street, suddenly calm, angry with himself. What did he have to be scared of? What was the worst that could’ve happened there? If they’d killed him, they’d just save him the trouble of doing it himself.
His legs were still weak. He needed to sit down.
The nearest sign was in English. It read “Lollipop”. As far as he could recall, a lollipop was a sweet thing on a stick that you sucked on.
“Sounds good,” he mumbled to himself and pushed the door open.
A soft hum of voices halted as soon as he stepped in, and all faces turned to him. Scrutinizing eyes were everywhere, trained on him, watching. He walked toward the bar, firmly staring straight ahead, feeling sharp glances on his back. What the hell was he thinking, walking into a gay bar in his old school uniform?
“I’m eighteen, I swear,” he told the bar master, climbing on a stool.
“That’s good to know,” the man said. “You’re still only getting water, but it will be in a martini glass with a cherry and hideously overpriced.”
He accepted the drink gratefully, only now realising how thirsty he was, gulped it down in seconds, shook the cherry into his mouth and ate it.
“Okay, free refills,” sighed the bar master and fixed him another glass. “I’m Toda, the owner. First time?”
Ono nodded, taking a sip. His ears felt hot and huge and probably glowed bright red.
“Everybody’s looking at me,” he whispered into the glass.
“That’s because you’re so sexy,” said Toda patiently, as if explaining to a child why the sky was blue. Ono glanced up to see if the bar master was laughing at him, but he seemed perfectly serious. He was quite young, maybe not even thirty, very handsome, and Ono liked the moustache. He hastily lowered his eyes before Toda-san could notice.
“Don’t worry, I’ll look after you,” the man said. “It’s in my interest that you have a good time and come here often!”
“They… like me?”
“Of course they do. You’re new, you’re cute and the school uniform was a great idea. What’s wrong? Didn’t you come here to meet people?”
“Yes,” he said, desperately trying to stop shivering. “I just don’t know how – I don’t know what to do.”
“Well, do you see anyone you like? Then try to catch his eyes and smile and see what happens.”
Ono glanced over his shoulder, cautiously surveying the room. He felt like a starving kid in a pastry shop – everything he saw looked delectable. His eyes fell on a tall young man with an open, strong face, exactly Ono’s type - oh, but the man next to him had long hair, tousled and shiny, falling down the side of his neck in loose tresses. And the one at the next table had not just a moustache like the bar master’s but also a small neatly trimmed beard, and the one by the wall had such lovely, pale-coloured eyes, and the one in the corner looked exactly like that actor from – oh God, what if it was really him?
Ono turned away and carefully crossed his legs, dizzy and horny. This was like a dream that had to end in sneaking his bedsheets into the washer. He finished his second glass of ice-cold water and considered asking the bar master for some tissues in case he started nosebleeding all over the counter.
Someone touched his elbow and leaned closer, enveloping him in subtle scents of aftershave and musk.
“Hi. My name is Taichirou. May I buy you another drink?”
It was that sexy tall guy – he’d left his table and now was right here, on the other barstool, his warm palm resting on Ono’s soggy worn sleeve. His eyes were dark and soft and Ono stared into them, not daring to move, forgetting to breathe.
“Taichirou-san,” he said finally. “P-pleased to meet you. I’m Ono Yusuke.”
The man smiled, tightening his fingers on Ono’s arm a tiny bit, and was about to say something when suddenly everybody in the room seemed to have shifted and the bar became incredibly busy, as if all the patrons became thirsty at exactly the same time.
“Tai-chan, so pushy!” said somebody. “Don’t jump ahead, give him a moment to look around!”
“So, you’re Yusuke?” asked the man with long hair, leaning over Ono’s shoulder. Cool silky strands brushed against Ono’s cheek, nearly making him whimper. “I’m Shirou. Can we call you Yu-chan?”
“Yu-chan! Let’s all welcome Yu-chan to the bar!” cheered another voice. A drink appeared in front of Ono, something layered and colourful, definitely not water. He was surrounded, crowded against the bar; the men were introducing themselves to him, smiling and friendly. Everybody was talking at once, pushing closer and patting his shoulders, and somebody’s hand was gingerly stroking his knee.
“Excuse me a moment,” he said politely and slipped off the stool, hastily pushing towards the bathroom.
He locked himself in the cubicle and leaned his forehead against the door, trying to steady his breathing. In the places where he’d been touched his skin still felt too hot, tingling under his clothes, and he was so hard that he could barely stand. He unzipped his pants, closed his eyes and reached down, curling his hand over himself. Taichirou-san had big, nice hands with long square-tipped fingers, they would feel so good doing this, and this…
The door of the next cubicle banged and clicked shut. Ono bit on his lip and stilled, holding his breath. It was silly, nobody could tell what he was doing, but he couldn’t bring himself to continue with somebody else so close.
“Ohh, yes,” whispered the man in the next cubicle over the rustle of clothes. “Right there, ah, this is good.”
“That new boy, Yu-chan, he’s so lovely,” said another voice, and Ono jumped, barely catching his pants before they slid off. “Bend lower, like this.”
“Do you think he’d agree to come home with us?” panted the first one. “Oh, that would be amazing. Would you like that?”
“Of course, but everybody is all over him already, we’re probably losing our chances…”
“I know, I can’t help it, I can’t wait… Aaah!”
Ono blinked in disbelief, staring at the fingers gripping at the wall between cubicles, tightening till the knuckles were white. He could hear loud gasps, wet squelching sounds and soft, rhythmic slaps – they were… they were…
He tightly squeezed his eyes shut and stroked himself, fast and harsh, unable to stop. The thin wall was creaking louder and louder. It sounded like it could give at any moment and both men would crash into his cubicle and land at his feet, entwined together, naked and hot and wanting him.
He stayed in long after he came, till they stopped kissing and whispering to each other and left the bathroom. He slipped out of the cubicle, washed his burning face with cold water and stared at his dishevelled, dazed reflection in a large mirror over the sink.
He looked exactly as always. Maybe even a little dorkier. There was no explanation for all this, it had to be some dark demonic magic at work. He moistened his hair with tap water and tried to style it a little, but it only ended up messier, like somebody just gave him a noogie.
“Yusuke, here you are,” said Taichirou-san, stepping inside. “I’ve been looking for you. I was worried they’d upset you and you left.”
“No,” he said and swallowed hard. Taichirou-san looked so good, and he couldn’t help wondering how he’d react if Ono tried to pull him into one of the cubicles, and pushed him against the wall, and kissed him right on the lips, and, and…
“I wanted to talk to you,” the man said. “When you walked in, I thought…”
He stepped closer and lightly touched Ono’s cheek, making his heart skip a beat.
“You’re very attractive, Yusuke, but you look like you’ve been crying,” he said softly. “Did something happen? Are you in trouble? We hear stories – can you tell me what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Ono blurted out, but Taichirou-san looked at him with such concern, like he really wanted to know. “That is – I, I g-got dumped today, but…”
“Oh. I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine who would do such a thing,” said Taichirou. “They must have been blind.”
And of course it was just him being polite and kind, but it felt so good. Taichirou pulled on his sleeve, gently but insistently, and Ono stepped forward, mesmerised by the look in his eyes, by the sweet curve of his mouth. Before he knew it he was leaning on Taichirou’s broad, solid chest, and the man’s arm encircled him in a tight embrace. Ono pressed his cheek against the body-warm fabric, relishing this, barely restraining himself from rubbing against Taichirou with all his body and purring like a cat.
“Yes, it was awful,” he sighed, snuggling closer. He was getting hard again but couldn’t pull away even at the risk of Taichirou-san noticing. “Thank you so much for your sympathy.”
“Yusuke,” whispered Taichirou into his ear, smoothing his palms over Ono’s back. “You are so adorable. I can’t help myself, I want you. Would you like to go to a hotel with me? I promise I’ll make you forget all about…”
“Yes,” Ono gasped, clutching at his shirt. A hotel, that meant sex – he was going to have sex, Taichirou wanted to have sex with him, there could be no mistake about it. “Oh, yes, please, please. Is it far?”
Luckily, it was just around the corner. The clerk leered at them as they stood in front of the counter, panting after the short run and holding hands, but Ono, to his own surprise, completely failed be ashamed. He grinned smugly and squeezed Taichirou’s strong palm, feeling sorry for everyone who wasn’t going to get lucky tonight.
The room they booked was small and bare, with a huge bed that took up most of the space. Ono toppled right onto it, giggling and giddy, pulled Taichirou on top of him and cupped his handsome face with both hands, thrilled just to look at him this close, certain that he could never get enough of it. Taichirou was pressing him to the bed with the weight in his body, large, firm, radiating heat and intoxicating male smells. Their hips were touching, and Ono wasn’t worried anymore about being so obviously hard. He arched a little, letting Taichirou feel it, strained up, closed his eyes and brushed their lips together.
It felt nice, soft and warm and somehow made his whole mouth tingle inside. Taichirou’s tongue darted out, sliding between them in a slick rush, and Ono locked his arms around the man’s neck, tugging him down, licking at his lips fervently, catching his quick, liquor-scented breaths in his mouth.
“Ngh,” he gasped, kissing harder, thrusting his tongue in. The feeling was so raw and strong, like he was touching inside the other man’s body.
“You like kissing?” murmured Taichirou and traced Ono’s lower lip with his tongue, slowly and gently.
“I guess,” he said. “I didn’t think it would be this good, but…”
“You haven’t? Ever?” Taichirou pulled back, smiling down at him uncertainly. “Have you done anything before?”
“Uh, no. Is that okay?”
“Oh - of course. Don’t worry, we’ll take it slow.”
He kissed Ono again and rolled off him, but before Ono started to miss the weight and the feel of him, his hand slid – oh, right there, touching him through the clothes. Ono caught that wrist and ground harder against the hot, large palm. The sound of his zipper was too long and too loud, and suddenly his cock was naked and Taichirou’s hand was wrapped around it, skin to skin. It was so much like the fantasy he had in the Lollipop’s bathroom that for a second he almost believed he’d dreamt everything up and was still there, locked in a tiny cubicle, thinking of beautiful men while he jerked off.
But this, this was million times better than doing it himself. The grip was tighter and the rhythm was slower than he’d thought he wanted, but somehow every touch felt electric, scorching. He wanted to keep watching it, Taichirou’s fingers stroking up and down, circling the head – but it was already happening, tearing down his spine, making his eyes roll back, and he was coming, tossing his head against the mattress, choking down happy screams. Messy, it was probably splashing everywhere, but right now he couldn’t bring himself to care.
“You’re so sweet,” said Taichirou next to his ear. Ono peeled his eyes open to see him smile and lick at his stained fingers. His tongue was long, wet and pink and Ono wanted to kiss him again, to take it in his mouth.
“Tai-chan,” he said, struggling for breath, horny all over again. “That’s not it yet, is it? Can we do more? I want to try everything.”
“Of course. We can stay here all night, if you like.”
“All night,” he said and let his head loll back on the bed, grinning happily. “Oh, but I really should call home.”
He zipped up his pants, sat up and dialled the number, trying to come up with a cover story. To his relief, it was mother who picked up.
“I won’t be coming home tonight,” he told her. “Please tell father something good.”
“What’s going on, Yusuke? Where are you?”
“I’m in a hotel,” he said with a strange pang of petty satisfaction. “I’ve met somebody, and now we’re having sex.”
“Oh, Yusuke,” she gasped. “Yusuke…”
“I’ll see you tomorrow. Please have breakfast without me, I don’t know if I’ll get home in time.”
“Yusuke, wait. That person you’re with – is it… a girl?”
“Good night, mother.”
He hung up, turned around, and froze on the spot. Taichirou was naked. He was sitting on the bed, smiling and lazily stroking himself. He had a gorgeous body, slim yet nicely muscled, and Ono wanted to see and memorise all of it, but his eyes were hopelessly drawn to one place.
He reached out and touched the hot rigid length of Taichirou’s erection. It felt silky, smooth and alive, and Ono was dying to sink down on his knees and look at it up close, study every line, fill his nose with the warm smell he could barely catch, taste the moist skin at the tip.
“Let’s get your clothes off,” said Taichirou, gently staying his hands. He reached for the school jacket buttons, but Ono stepped back and stripped himself, hastily, wondering why today of all days he chose to wear his old blue briefs and Gundam undershirt. He quickly tossed the ugly underwear under the bed, took off his glasses and was pulled right away onto Taichirou’s lap.
It was unexpectedly comfortable, like he fit there perfectly. The first touch of the man’s palms on his naked sides made him flinch, and then lean into it, rubbing against his chest like he hadn’t dared before. It was so strange, finally being able to touch another man anywhere, any way he wanted. Taichirou kissed his neck, slow and soothing, and ran his hands down the curve of Ono’s ass, stroking there.
“I want to take you,” he said, slipping his fingers lower, rubbing them over tender skin. “Okay?”
Ono squeezed his shoulders, kissed his mouth and nodded too many times, unable to find words. Nothing seemed good enough for what he wanted to say.
“Come on. Lie on your front,” said Taichirou, guiding him down.
“But - then I wouldn’t be able to see you?”
“It will be easier for you this way.”
“I don’t care about that,” Ono said, wriggling onto his back. “Can we do it like this?”
He threw his legs apart and pulled Taichirou closer, steering him between his thighs, palming his erection the way he liked to do to himself.
“Oh, Yu-chan,” gasped Taichirou helplessly and ran shaking fingers over Ono’s hipbones. “Oh. You are so – wait, wait, we need to…”
He spent a long time struggling with small packets he pulled from under the pillow. Licking his ear clearly wasn’t speeding things up, but Ono couldn’t stop, enjoying the way it made Taichirou shiver and squirm over him.
“Lift your legs like this… Just try not to tense up. Oh God, Yusuke. I’ve never been with someone so innocent before. I’m sorry, it will probably hurt.”
And it probably did, not that Ono could concentrate enough to feel it. There was too much happening at once – Taichirou’s hands and mouth on his skin, the slide of their bodies together, the unstoppable motion rocking right through him, piercing and bright, the sharp realisation that this was real, this was actually happening, and he had to remember every second of it, burn it into his memory forever. But it kept building, every second so much better than the one before, and his brain couldn’t keep up with the flood of sensation, shutting out and drifting away.
Somewhere in all that there was a moment of panic, his body suddenly recoiling on a pure instinct, but he refused to pay attention. His body was lucky to be alive, it would take it. It was hard to believe now that he’d been going to kill himself just a couple of hours ago – and then he’d never had this, would’ve never known how good it was. He’d been hung up on Tachibana for years, actually years, when he could’ve had this so easily…
The sounds were tearing up from his chest, and he tried to choke them down, because that would be completely out of place. Taichirou froze above him, still except for that rock hard flesh that kept pulsing and jerking inside Ono like it couldn’t wait, couldn’t get enough.
“Yusuke? What’s wrong?”
And then Ono couldn’t keep it in, threw his head back and laughed out loud, banging his fist against the pillow.
“Ah, sorry, Tai-chan. I’m just – very happy.”
In the morning they had breakfast in bed - scalding bitter coffee and the best croissants Ono had in his life. They ate it sprawled naked on top of the covers, giggling like a couple of drunks, stuffing flaky pastry into each other’s mouths and licking at buttery-slick fingers.
“I have to see you again,” said Taichirou. “Please take my card – call this number any time. Day or night, whenever. You will call me, won’t you?”
“Sure,” said Ono, twirling the glossy rectangle in his fingers. It was so simple now, when their bare knees were touching and Taichirou’s lip was still dark and swollen where he’d bitten on it yesterday. But really, the man was at least five years older than him, a complete stranger, and Ono knew nothing about his work or family situation. Calling him on the phone… Where would he be when he picked up? What would they say to each other?
“Can I have your number as well?”
“Ah, Tai-chan, I don’t have a cellphone, and I live with my parents and sisters, so…”
“Okay, but you will come to the bar again? Please, Yusuke. I’ll be waiting for you every night.”
“I will,” he promised firmly. “I’m starting my summer job on Monday, and as soon as I get paid…”
“Don’t worry about money, Yu-chan, I’ll take care of everything, just show up. Please.”
Taichirou’s butter-slick fingers were gripping his wrist too tightly, and Ono carefully slipped it free and kissed him again, trying to make it good and reassuring, to smooth away the tense curl of his mouth.
The train trip home felt like falling into an alien parallel world. Everywhere he looked were attractive men, like they had been camouflaging themselves all that time and had finally come out of the hiding. He was certain everyone could easily tell he’d just gotten laid, but he couldn’t stop beaming at every face that came into view, or suppress a wince whenever the train jerked on the tracks. He was starting to feel small pulling aches all over his body, like after a rare PE lesson he hadn’t managed to dodge, but this time it was pleasant, like a lingering caress. Maybe all those workout enthusiasts in his school were onto something after all.
Mother was not in when he came home. No surprise. She’d spun some nice tale for father yesterday, something about an all-night karaoke party with his school friends, like he knew she would. She was great at making those up.
When they’ve finished clearing up after lunch, father handed him an envelope which contained more money than Ono felt comfortable holding.
“Your graduation present,” he explained. “I was planning to buy you something, but then I thought you would rather spend it yourself. Take you friends out, have some fun.”
Ono stuttered out his thanks and flung both arms around father’s shoulders like he hadn’t done in years. It was strangely disconcerting to hug him now, when they were both adult men, fully grown, sexually experienced, but he knew it wasn’t likely to get easier, so he held on, clinging hard while he still could.
“I don’t even know who your friends are these days,” father said, holding him gently. “You’ve been keeping to yourself lately. Maybe you could invite them over one day? I’d like to meet them.”
“You will,” he said, grateful and so guilty it made his guts clench. He’s been lying to father for so long, about mother, about himself. And now there was even more to lie about. “One day, I promise.”
He locked himself in his bedroom, lined up the whole content of his wardrobe on the bed and surveyed it all critically. His tightest jeans, the pair from his junior year, were too short now, so he carefully let out the bottom hem and artfully frayed it with scissors, achieving an almost designer look. Paired up a black turtleneck they looked effortlessly stylish, at least in his bedroom mirror. Less so later, reflected in the train doors, and bordering on lame when he checked himself out in the bar window before entering Lollipop. He needed better clothes. He really needed some better clothes.
He was half-certain that the magic wouldn’t happen again, that it was just a one-shot gift from powers unknown. He was wrong.
“Hey! It’s Yu-chan!”
“Aw, no school uniform. Still gorgeous though!”
“That’s Yu-chan? Woah, I see what you meant!”
Taichirou sprang at him right away, smiling brightly, and dragged him by the hand to the corner table.
“I’m so glad you came, Yusuke. Oh, you look so good.”
“I can’t stay the night today,” Ono told him. “Can we go to the hotel soon, so we have enough time?”
“Yu-chan,” said Taichirou and gripped his hand hard, looking ready to jump off the chair this instant. “Yes, of course. Oh, Yu-chan.”
“I was hoping we could do it the other way this time,” he said, and the man’s face blanked out completely, like he was putting an active effort toward not understanding.
“What?”
“I want to take you,” he explained, gently stroking his thumb over Taichirou’s wrist. “Okay?”
“But – Yu-chan,” the man mumbled, carefully keeping his voice down. “I don’t – you know I’m a...”
Ono raised his eyebrows a fraction and waited silently while Taichirou’s face tightened, crumbled and eventually settled into an expression of resigned consent.
“Oh, well… As long as… Uh, I need a drink. Hang on, I’ll go get us something.”
Ono was still looking thoughtfully at his retreating backside when Shirou plopped onto the vacated chair and grinned at him:
“Hey, Yu-chan, there are some guys who wanted to meet you. They just wouldn’t believe us when we told them...”
“We do now!” said another man, sliding closer. “I’m Ayame, nice to meet you. Hey, what did you do to Tai-chan? He’s positively glowing, and he’s not that easy to impress.”
“Hi, Yu-chan, we’ve met already but didn’t get to talk to you yesterday,” said a familiar voice. Two men stood by the table, wrapped around each other, and Ono blushed, remembering far too vividly how that voice hitched and echoed inside the bathroom when pleading for more, more, harder. He smiled at everybody, strangely moved in the way he couldn’t understand.
“We’re all going to Toru-san’s party later,” said Shirou. “He’s wondering if you want to come.”
He nodded at the man in the far corner, who waved at Ono cheerfully, crinkling his eyes in that trademark way like he was about to deliver the closing line of today’s episode.
“Isn’t that…”
“Shh. We just call him Toru-san over here,” Shirou said meaningfully and nudged Ono with his silk-clad elbow. “I don’t know if Tai-chan wants to tag along, but…”
“What is going on here?” demanded Taichirou, appearing at the table without any drinks. His face was angry and red, which really didn’t suit him at all. It actually looked quite unpleasant. “Yu-chan, what’s this?”
“Hey, hey, don’t be like that,” started Shirou, and Ono mumbled something about getting those drinks and slipped away to the bar just as they all started to hiss at each other like a bunch of irate snakes, trading veiled insults.
“Yu-chan,” sighed the bar master. “You‘re a troublemaker.”
“I don’t mean to be,” he said ruefully. “This isn’t what I wanted.”
All he really wanted was to go to the hotel and spend several hours making love, kissing and touching and trying new things. Taichirou was almost shouting now, and Ono tried not to look in that direction, as if he could pretend that had nothing to do with him and wasn’t his fault at all.
“Well, this will blow over in time,” said Toda without any real conviction. “It’s like this because you are new. And Tai-chan should spend less time telling everyone how good you were in bed if he doesn’t want to stir up interest.”
“I’ll just wait till they calm down,” Ono said miserably. “This is too embarrassing.”
He leaned on the counter and glanced around, looking for something to occupy himself with. There was a cute guy sitting at the very end of the bar: hardly older than himself, awkwardly hunched in his seat, nursing a very fake looking cherry martini and hardly daring to raise his eyes. Just like Ono was only yesterday, and that seemed so long ago now. Ono nodded to him warmly and gave him a sympathetic wink. The boy choked, jerked in his seat and knocked over his glass, spilling its contents all over the polished bar surface.
“Yu-chan!” groaned Toda and reached for the towel. Ono shrugged apologetically, picked the cocktail cherry from the clear puddle at his elbow, popped it into his mouth and smiled.
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Date: 2007-07-01 09:26 pm (UTC)The birth of a demon *g*
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Date: 2007-07-18 12:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-02 03:54 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-18 12:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-02 04:27 pm (UTC)Kanari Hitodenashi (http://www.sendspace.com/file/oc36u7).
На японском, но в общем все понятно и так.
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Date: 2007-07-18 12:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-08-01 09:14 pm (UTC)А фик замечательный и действительно в канон вписывается идеально! Что мне особенно понравилось - уже понятно, что Оно от его многочисленных поклонников достанутся не только удовольствия.
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Date: 2007-07-04 02:48 am (UTC)Thanks for another episode of 'Antique Bakery'!! ^_^
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Date: 2007-07-18 12:05 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-07-08 10:34 am (UTC)Спасибо тебе, что повесила!
*свунюсь*
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Date: 2007-07-18 12:12 pm (UTC)