Warnings: And here, in this chapter, is the lemon I said I'd never write. Go me. And for the record, I hate this chapter's title, especially because I had something better, but I didn't remember it long enough to actually put it in.
Chapter Twenty-Two: Be Mine
For a moment, Subaru sat frozen in shock, neither moving nor speaking. All he could hope was that Kamui would, for whatever reason, leave before realizing it was Fuuma that he was in bed with. For now, Kamui was just looking at Subaru, and the back of Fuuma’s head, with a neutral expression.
“Kamui . . .” Subaru finally managed to say. “What are you doing here?”
“I left something,” Kamui said, his voice totally bland. “A paper that was due after lunch. I was using my lunch break to come home and get it.”
Subaru swallowed hard. “Kamui, it . . . it isn’t . . .”
“You know what, Subaru?” Kamui asked, still with the same smile. “I don’t care. I don’t want to hear whatever excuses you have to offer. You think I didn’t realize? I knew something had mellowed you out. It was obvious. I thought you might be sleeping with someone else, and quite frankly, I don’t care. It keeps you off my ass, and that’s just fine with me.”
Subaru allowed himself to breathe. For a minute, he thought he might actually be safe, that Kamui might just walk out again without noticing.
Then Kamui’s eyes narrowed as he stared at Fuuma’s back. “Wait a fucking minute,” he said slowly.
Subaru tensed.
Kamui walked over and grabbed Fuuma by the hair, turning him around. Fuuma let Kamui do so, not making any move to escape his grip.
There was a brief moment of silence.
Kamui let go of Fuuma’s hair and backed away a step or two. He seemed to be considering his course of action.
“You . . .” he finally managed to say, his voice shaking. “You . . .”
Subaru flinched away and scrambled to his feet, apparently not caring or not noticing that he was still naked. “Kamui -- ”
“Shut up,” Kamui whispered. “I don’t want to hear it. Whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “How could you?” he hissed. “How could either of you? God, Subaru, anyone else and I wouldn’t have cared!” Kamui choked back tears and concentrated on being angry rather than upset. “Why the hell did you have to sleep with him?!”
“Kamui, it isn’t what you think,” Subaru said desperately. Fuuma sat on the bed in silence, waiting to see what Kamui was going to do.
“Then what the hell is it, Subaru?” Kamui yelled. “You tell me!”
“He -- he made me,” Subaru whispered.
“Oh, fuck you!” Kamui said contemptuously. “He didn’t make you. Don’t forget, I’ve played this game with him. He never makes anyone do anything. I may be so mad at him right now that I’m ready to skin him alive, but he’s not a rapist. If he did this, you had to want it, at least on some level.”
Subaru looked down. “You don’t understand,” he said. “I need it. I don’t know why, but I do. He just . . . he gives to me in a way that you can’t. Please . . . don’t be angry . . .”
Kamui’s fists clenched. “Oh, that’s real good, Subaru,” he said. “So you’re allowed to fuck Fuuma because he ‘gives to you in a way that I can’t.’ Right? Well, did it ever occur to you that maybe, just maybe, Keiichi gives to me in a way that you can’t? That maybe I spend time with him and care for him because he doesn’t treat me like shit and I need that? So maybe you shouldn’t get on my ass every damn time I call him or see him? Did that occur to you for one second?”
Subaru swallowed hard.
“No, I didn’t think so,” Kamui spat out. “Because you only think of yourself. You’ve never cared about me one God damned bit. It was always about whether or not you could use me to make yourself feel better. Right?!”
Subaru didn’t reply.
“Fuck that,” Kamui said. “FUCK THAT.”
Subaru let out a tiny, choked noise. “Please, Kamui . . . I’m sorry, I really am, I didn’t mean to hurt you with this, I just -- ”
“Shut the hell up,” Kamui snapped, moving forward a step. “I don’t want to hear how sorry you are. You always do this, Subaru. You always hurt me in some way or another and then apologize and cry and make me feel so sorry for you that I stay. Well, I’m fucking sick of feeling sorry for you and I’m sick of staying.”
“Kamui, no,” Subaru said desperately.
“I’m going,” Kamui said coldly, turning for the door.
“Kamui, please.” Subaru reached out and grabbed Kamui’s wrist. “Please don’t go.”
Kamui swung around, jerking his wrist free from Subaru’s grasp, and punched Subaru squarely across the face.
Subaru staggered backwards and nearly fell, but Kamui followed him, grabbing him by the shoulders and slamming him up against the wall. “What right do you have?!” he screamed, his face only inches away from Subaru’s. “What the hell right do you have to ask me to stay? After everything you’ve done! You’ve beaten me and raped me and driven me to try suicide and tried to keep me away from the one person who truly cares about me and I’ve put up with all of it just to make you fucking happy! Who the hell do you think you are, Subaru? Where the hell do you get off on telling me what to do?”
He dropped Subaru and let him slide to the floor in a heap. “I loved you,” he said, his voice choked with tears. “I loved you more than anything. And you never gave a shit about me. But I put up with everything because I wanted you to be happy. How can you ask me stay? You couldn’t care less if I were alive or dead. What fucking right do you have to ask that of me?”
Subaru managed a tiny whimper.
“ANSWER ME!”
“None,” Subaru whispered. “I don’t.”
“TELL ME I CAN GO!”
“You can go,” Subaru whispered, tears running down his cheeks.
Kamui turned on his heel and marched over to the bed. “As for you,” he snarled, drawing back his fist against.
Fuuma took the punch across his jaw, not bothering to defend himself. He knew he deserved it. He let himself fall backwards onto the bed, knowing that if he tried to catch himself, Kamui was liable to hit him again.
“I’ll deal with you later,” Kamui snapped. “When I’m not so fucking pissed that I can’t see straight.”
He walked back over to Subaru and grabbed the older man just underneath his chin, hauling him a good six inches upward, though his knees remained on the ground. Fuuma, seeing that, made a mental note to never, ever piss Kamui off again. He didn’t know where Kamui hid his strength on that scrawny frame, but it was obviously there.
“I’m leaving,” Kamui said, his face about an inch away from Subaru’s. “I’ll be back in the morning, when I’ve calmed down. Then you can offer whatever pathetic explanations or excuses you have, and I’ll listen.”
He dropped Subaru facedown into the carpet and stormed out of the room.
In his wake, the silence seemed very loud.
~~~~
Seishirou had just sat down for his lunch break when his head suddenly started to throb. He frowned, lifting one hand to his temple, wondering what was accountable for the sudden headache. He took off his glasses (having started wearing them again; they gave him a more respectable look) and rubbed his forehead.
Then, without warning, the pain intensified. Seishirou was nearly startled into crying out, and he couldn’t see straight -- the world blurred before his eyes and his memory was starting to erode underneath him.
Oh God -- Subaru --
He fell forward, out of his chair, curling up on the cold floor. He couldn’t think past the pain. He knew he could very easily lose his mind if Subaru didn’t get himself under control pretty quickly --
And then it stopped, and for a moment Seishirou thought he could smell sakura.
He straightened up and crawled back into his chair, his head still aching with an echo of pain. He sent a mental note of gratitude towards the Sakura for its protection, then picked up the phone.
~~~~
Fuuma glanced over as the phone rang. Subaru was still sitting on the floor, somewhat shell-shocked. “Get the phone,” Fuuma said calmly.
Subaru blinked at him. “Huh?” His voice trembled and cracked.
“Hell,” Fuuma muttered, and picked it up himself. “Moshi moshi?”
There was a pause. Then, “Fuuma? What are you doing at Subaru’s house?”
Fuuma rolled his eyes. Of course, the one time he picked up the phone, it would be Seishirou. “Visiting Kamui. What the hell did you think I was doing?”
“It’s the middle of the day. Kamui’s in school.”
“He has the flu. He called me up and asked for some company.”
“Oh.” Seishirou paused. “Is Subaru-kun there?”
“Uh, yeah,” Fuuma said, glancing over at the heap on the floor. He tossed a blanket over Subaru; he was still naked and had started to shiver.
“Is he all right?”
“Not . . . precisely,” Fuuma said suspiciously. “How did you know?”
“My brain just nearly melted inside my skull,” Seishirou said. “I figured something had to be up. What happened?”
“I’m not sure exactly,” Fuuma lied easily, sighing. “He and Kamui were fighting when I got here. I don’t know what about. Anyway, Kamui got really pissed and said some pretty nasty stuff, which as far as I can tell, was all one hundred percent true and Subaru really deserved it, and then he walked out. We’re not sure if he’s coming back, and Subaru’s upset.”
“Oh,” Seishirou said.
“You know,” Fuuma said brightly, “now would be a great time for you to stop by. I’m sure Subaru would be glad to see you. You know, if you -- ”
He stopped.
“That bastard hung up on me,” he announced to nobody. He sighed and put the phone back in the cradle. “Great,” he muttered. “Now he’ll get it into his head that Subaru really loves Kamui and that’s why he’s upset. God, I’m going to shoot these people.”
He walked over to Subaru and knelt next to him. “Subaru? You in there?”
Subaru looked up. “I made him leave me,” he whispered. He seemed totally astonished by this fact.
“Yeah,” Fuuma said, silently adding, Now watch while I throw a party. “Seems that way.”
“I don’t want him to go,” Subaru blurted out.
Fuuma took a deep breath and reminded himself firmly that Subaru was an idiot, and thus he ought to keep his patience. “Subaru, you’ve been trying to make him go ever since he came here.”
“But I -- I didn’t think -- ”
“He’d ever grow enough spine to actually do it?” Fuuma asked dryly. “Yeah, I’ll admit I’m kind of surprised too. Though he hasn’t gone yet -- he’ll hear you out tomorrow, so you’ll have that chance.”
Subaru sniffled.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” Fuuma said, rolling his eyes. “Pull yourself together. You didn’t really want Kamui anyway. It’ll be better for both of you now.”
Subaru looked up at him with sudden realization. “You meant for this to happen.”
Fuuma shrugged, not looking remorseful in the slightest.
“You meant for this to happen,” Subaru repeated, his voice rising in both volume and pitch.
“Not this exactly,” Fuuma said. “But it didn’t disappoint me, if that’s what you mean.”
“How could you?” Subaru asked, his voice choking.
“Well, it all came down to which one of the three of you was the least stubborn,” Fuuma said, staying totally reasonable in contrast to Subaru’s beginning hysterics. “I decided it was Kamui. So rather than trying to convince Seishirou to come back, or convince you to kick Kamui out, I decided to convince Kamui to leave you. And Kamui has Keiichi, which is an added plus; Keiichi will manage to convince him to stay left.”
Subaru gaped at him, his mouth working but no sound coming out.
“Don’t give me that look,” Fuuma said. “I’m not sorry. I’d do it again. And don’t give me any crap about how you’re wounded that there were reasons behind me having sex with you. Are ulterior motives any worse than ‘hey, you’re hot, let’s bang’?”
“You made Kamui leave,” Subaru finally managed.
“There were only a few things that he wouldn’t forgive you for,” Fuuma replied. “And this was one of them.”
~~~~
Keiichi checked the answering machine eagerly, and his face fell when he saw there were no messages. Kamui had left at the beginning of lunch break to get his paper, and hadn’t returned. Keiichi didn’t know why this had him so panicked. It certainly wasn’t as if Kamui had never skipped class before.
And yet . . .
He picked up the phone and dialed Kamui’s number. It couldn’t hurt to check up on him, after all.
“Moshi moshi?”
Keiichi frowned. The voice was familiar, but neither Subaru nor Kamui’s. Keiichi didn’t recognize it offhand. “Uhm . . . is Kamui there?”
“Uh, no.” The voice paused. “Wait, is this Keiichi-kun?”
“Yeah.” Keiichi frowned. “Monou-kun?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Kamui’s not with you?”
Keiichi felt a sudden stab of panic. Fuuma sounded honestly concerned. That couldn’t possibly be good. “No. I only got home from school just now.”
“God, how many clubs are you in?” Fuuma asked wonderingly.
“What happened?” Keiichi asked, his voice thin. “Tell me the truth, Monou-kun.”
“He and Subaru got in a fight,” Fuuma said. “It happened at lunchtime when he came home to get . . . whatever it was he was here for, I dunno. Anyway, we assumed he would go to you, but if he didn’t, I don’t know where the hell he is.”
“Wow, and you even sound like you care,” Keiichi said bitterly.
“Look, I don’t want to argue with you,” Fuuma said. “Do you have any idea where he’d go when he’s upset?”
Keiichi thought about it for a minute. “The apartment that he used to live in has been given to new students . . . so no, I can’t think of anywhere. Why don’t you go look for him, and I’ll stay here in case he shows up?”
“Uh, I really don’t think I should leave Subaru right now,” Fuuma said, sounding uncomfortable. “It probably really wouldn’t help Kamui if he jumped off the roof of the building or anything.”
“How bad a fight did they have?” Keiichi asked.
“It was bad,” Fuuma replied.
Keiichi glanced at his clock. “How upset was he?” he asked slowly.
“Not that upset,” Fuuma replied immediately. “He was more angry than anything. He’s not going to hurt himself or anything; I’d bet on it.”
“If you’re sure,” Keiichi said. “But if I don’t see him by around nine or ten, I’m going to be calling you back for your help.”
“Call us when you see him,” Fuuma said. “Subaru’s worried. And so am I.”
Keiichi hung up the phone without saying another word and tried not to feel too panicked. Kamui was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but not the most emotionally stable person on earth. Keiichi decided to try to do some homework to distract himself. He found himself unbelievably fidgety, and to make matters worse, it had started to rain.
“Hey, Keiichi-kun,” Makito, one of Keiichi’s roommates, came into the room. “What’s up?”
Keiichi looked up, to see Makito dripping. “Hey. It’s really raining out there, huh?”
“Yeah,” Makito said. “Sucks. What’re you looking so glum about?”
“Ah, it’s nothing,” Keiichi said. “Just some trouble with Kamui. Again.”
“Oh,” Makito said. All three of Keiichi’s roommates were acquainted, at least on some level, with Kamui’s problems. He never talked about them, nor did Keiichi, but they were bound to pick up little things. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just kind of worried,” Keiichi said. “I expected him to be here by now. I haven’t seen him since lunch.”
“I just saw him before I left school,” Makito said. “He said hi to me. He looked okay, if that makes you feel better. He said he’d been talking to Rijichou about changing his class schedule. Man, does he ever hate statistics.”
Keiichi laughed, feeling much better. “Still, if he’s not here in an hour or so, I’m going to go look for him.”
He sat down with his homework again, feeling much better.
The doorbell rang about half an hour later. Keiichi nearly tripped over himself answering it, and was relieved beyond words to see Kamui standing on his doorstep. He pulled him inside, noting absently that he was soaking wet, and pulled him into a hug. “God, you scared the hell out of me,” he murmured into Kamui’s hair. “I had no idea where you were. Don’t ever do that to me again.”
Kamui pulled away slightly. “What do you mean?” he asked.
“I called your house since you never got back after lunch, and Fuuma told me that he hadn’t seen you since you’d left,” Keiichi said. “Neither of us knew where you were. We were really worried. If Makito hadn’t told me that he’d seen you on campus, I would’ve been out looking for you already.”
“Yeah, I went to drop stats,” Kamui said absently, combing his fingers through his dripping hair.
“You should probably call and let them know you got here okay,” Keiichi said.
Kamui sighed, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his jacket. “Yeah. I guess.”
“Then you should take a shower and get into some dry clothes,” Keiichi said. “I’ll see if Satoshi has anything he can lend you, he’s the smallest of us. And I’ll get you some dinner. Okay?”
Kamui nodded vaguely and picked up the phone, dialing rapidly. Keiichi listened in interest to Kamui’s half of the conversation. “Hi, Fuuma . . . so you’re still there. Okay. Tell Subaru I made it to Keiichi’s all right . . . it’s none of your fucking business where I was, Fuuma . . . no, and I don’t want to hear your fucking explanations, either. Just tell Subaru I’m all right. And after making this mess you had damn well better stay with Subaru tonight and make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. You got that? . . . Good. You’re learning.”
Kamui slammed the phone back into the cradle.
Keiichi looked at him questioningly.
“I’m gonna shower,” Kamui said quietly. He walked out of the room without another word.
Keiichi sighed and decided to make some food. He doubted Kamui had eaten all day, and it might comfort him. He started to make some chicken noodle soup -- another one of his mother’s staple foods in times of trouble. She said it was an American thing. Keiichi had no idea whether or not that was true, but it had always worked for him.
Kamui was in the shower for almost half an hour. Keiichi waited until the soup was done, then got some clothes out of Satoshi’s room and knocked on the bathroom door. He opened it a crack and said, “Kamui, I’m just going to put these in here, okay?”
“Yeah,” Kamui said. His voice sounded rough.
Keiichi went back into the kitchen. Kamui came out a few minutes later. The clothes were still too big on him; he’d rolled up the sleeves of the baggy button-down and cuffed the pants several times. His hair was still soaking wet, and he was holding a damp towel in his hand. He looked so adorably despondent that Keiichi felt his heart thud painfully in his chest.
“I didn’t know where to put the towel . . .” Kamui offered.
Keiichi motioned for him to sit down, taking the towel from his hands. Kamui sat down in the kitchen chair, folding his hands in his lap and letting his head hang down. Keiichi stood in front of him and draped the towel over his head, gently toweling his hair dry. Kamui’s shoulders quivered, but he didn’t give in to the urge to cry.
Keiichi took the towel away and tossed it onto one of the other chairs, then put a bowl of soup and a mug of tea in front of Kamui. “Here. Have some dinner.”
“Not hungry,” Kamui said dully.
“You are hungry,” Keiichi said calmly. “I know you are, because you told me this morning you hadn’t had a chance for breakfast, then I know for a fact you didn’t get lunch, and I’m willing to bet you never ate dinner either. Have some soup.”
Kamui sighed softly and took a spoonful. “It’s good,” he said quietly.
“Thanks,” Keiichi said. “It’s my mother’s recipe.”
“I’m sorry I couldn’t save your mother,” Kamui said, staring into the bowl.
Keiichi blinked at him. “Where did that come from?” he asked.
“I just realized that I’d never said it,” Kamui said quietly. “I might have saved her, if I’d been able to beat Fuuma that day . . .”
“Kamui, it’s okay,” Keiichi replied. “You know I don’t hold you responsible.”
“That doesn’t mean I’m not sorry,” Kamui said, wiping a single tear off his face. He began to eat the soup wordlessly, but still quickly.
Keiichi took the bowl and spoon when he was done and put them in the sink. “Come on, it’s late,” he said. “Let’s go into my room and talk for a bit, then hopefully you can get some sleep.”
Kamui nodded and let Keiichi steer him into the bedroom. He sat down on the bed and ran a hand through his now damp hair.
“So what happened?” Keiichi asked, sitting on the bed next to him.
Kamui told him the story in a flat monotone, relating everything he could remember having said, though he’d been so angry that the memories were surprisingly blurred. Keiichi listened silently, making a few surprised faces but not commenting.
“And you’re not going to go back, right?” he asked, when Kamui was finished.
Kamui wiped the tears off his cheeks. “I don’t know,” he finally said.
“How can you even consider it?” Keiichi asked, trying not to sound upset.
“You didn’t see his face,” Kamui murmured.
“No, and I don’t give a damn about his face,” Keiichi replied. “You were right to yell at him like that. He deserved it.”
“I wanted to save him,” Kamui said softly.
“Kamui, he doesn’t want to be saved,” Keiichi replied.
“I know,” Kamui whispered. “And maybe that’s what hurts the most.”
“Kamui, you don’t need him,” Keiichi said urgently. “I know you think you do, but you don’t. All he ever did was hurt you, from the moment he met you. You don’t need to stay with him.”
“I don’t know what I want anymore,” Kamui whispered.
Keiichi reached out and ran his fingers through Kamui’s hair. “Do you hate them?” he asked curiously.
“No,” Kamui said wearily. “As much as I want to. I don’t think I ever could.”
Keiichi leaned forward and brushed his lips over Kamui’s.
“Keiichi . . .”
“Do you want me to stop?” Keiichi asked, moving his lips to caress Kamui’s cheek. “I’ll stop, if you ask me to.”
Kamui swallowed hard, blushing a tiny bit. “No . . . please don’t stop . . .”
Keiichi pushed him back onto the bed, laying next to him and caressing the side of his face gently. He leaned over him and kissed him gently; not their first real kiss, but the first that seemed to promise to be the prelude to more. Kamui closed his eyes and let out a contented sigh into Keiichi’s mouth, letting his brain shut off and dwell only on sensation.
Keiichi kissed him until he was suffering serious oxygen debt, then pulled away, leaving them both gasping for breath. He brushed his lips over Kamui’s closed eyes, his cheeks, his jawline, wanting to leave no inch of skin untouched. Kamui let out a whispery moan and put his arms around Keiichi’s neck, running fingers through his hair.
“We shouldn’t . . .” he whispered.
Keiichi practically fell over. “God, Kamui, don’t lead me on like that,” he said, sitting up and groaning. “It isn’t fair.”
“I’m sorry,” Kamui said miserably. He hesitated, then also sat up. “But I told Subaru I would give him a chance to explain and I might go back, and if I do this it’d just be to spite Subaru and Fuuma anyway and . . .”
“I don’t care!” Keiichi half-yelled. He saw Kamui’s wide-eyed look and softened his voice. “I don’t care about any of that,” he said, his tone nearly pleading. “Kamui, you don’t understand. I love you. I need you.”
“I don’t mean to lead you on,” Kamui said, wiping tears off his cheeks. “But I don’t want to just leave and not see you anymore . . . I care about you too much for that.”
“Kamui, you have no reason to stay with him anymore,” Keiichi said. “Please, just . . . be with me. I’ll do anything you want, give you anything you want, if you’ll just . . .”
“Keiichi, that’s not what this is about,” Kamui said quietly. “That’s never what it was about, and you know it. I’d like to be with you. But . . . I’m fucked up, Keiichi. And some things never get better.”
“You can get better, I know you can,” Keiichi said, locking eyes with Kamui. “You just have to believe in yourself.”
“I don’t know how,” Kamui whispered.
“Then let me believe in you,” Keiichi said.
Kamui closed his eyes. “I want to,” he whispered.
“Please,” Keiichi said. “I’ve waited so long. I’ve been really patient. But . . . I want to be with you so badly that it hurts. I know you’ll go back to Subaru tomorrow, and I don’t care. Just . . . just for tonight . . . let me pretend that you’re mine.”
Kamui sighed softly and rested his head on Keiichi’s shoulder for a long minute. Seconds ticked by, and Keiichi was suddenly very sure that Kamui was going to leave. He felt a cold feeling begin to grow in the pit of his stomach, and wondered if he should say something, take back his request . . . anything.
“For tonight . . .” Kamui finally said, pulling away and meeting Keiichi’s eyes, “you don’t have to pretend. For tonight, I’ll be yours.”
Keiichi’s eyes widened slightly, and then he gave Kamui a very gentle smile. “Arigatou,” he said.
Kamui reached up and brushed Keiichi’s hair out of his face. “Make me want to be with you,” he whispered. Keiichi’s lips met his again and he lay back on the bed without being pushed, and Keiichi followed.
“You never have before, have you,” Kamui murmured, turning his head to one side and letting Keiichi kiss his way down his neck.
Keiichi blushed. “No,” he admitted, leaning up to speak right into Kamui’s ear. “But I think I can figure it out.” His fingers slowly began to make their way down the line of buttons on Kamui’s shirt. Kamui drew in a sharp breath as Keiichi’s fingers pushed the shirt open, brushing against the skin underneath. Keiichi pulled Kamui into a sitting position long enough to remove the shirt, then let him lay back down.
Their lips met again, this time with more urgency, more passion. Kamui forgot everything else. None of it mattered anyway. Nothing mattered except the feel of Keiichi’s mouth against his and the gentle caresses down his chest and stomach. His touch was so soft that it was barely noticeable, yet somehow managed to set all of Kamui’s nerve endings on fire.
“God . . . how do you do it?” he asked, taking deep breaths as Keiichi’s lips finally left his, moving down to land a string of gentle kisses on his collar bone.
“Do what?” Keiichi asked, glancing up.
“Make me feel so good . . . with so little . . .” Kamui tilted his head to one side. Keiichi’s lips moved lower, planting kisses seemingly at random, sometimes in rapid succession, sometimes with a long break in between while his fingers moved over Kamui’s sides.
“I don’t know,” Keiichi admitted. “I’m just doing whatever seems right.”
“Well, God, don’t stop,” Kamui replied.
“Won’t stop,” Keiichi promised, lazily running his tongue down Kamui’s chest. “Never stop. I could do this forever.” His tongue brushed over one of Kamui’s nipples and the smaller boy cried out. Keiichi paused, lingering over the spot, teasing it with his tongue. Kamui tried not to cry out again, and only managed it by clenching his teeth. A muffled moan escaped him as Keiichi’s hand brushed teasingly over his other nipple.
“You can touch me, you know,” Keiichi murmured, pulling away and concentrating on the skin right under Kamui’s ear. “I’d like that.”
Kamui blushed a little. “Sorry . . . so used to Subaru by now that . . .”
“Shh,” Keiichi said, brushing his lips over Kamui’s ear and rather enjoying the way Kamui squirmed beneath him. Kamui didn’t say anything else, but he lightly grasped the hem of Keiichi’s T-shirt in his hands, pushing it up over his head. Keiichi tossed it on the floor beside Kamui’s shirt.
Kamui hesitantly ran his hand down Keiichi’s chest, as if still expecting to be punished or slapped away. When neither of those things happened, he regained his former enthusiasm and devoted his attentions towards exploring every inch of Keiichi that he could reach.
He never really knew how long the two of them stayed like that, doing nothing beyond kissing and gentle touches, and adoring every second of it. He was light-headed from pleasure and lack of oxygen by the time Keiichi apparently decided it was time to get to more serious things.
He kissed his way down Kamui’s chest, listening to Kamui’s breath speed up as he got further downward. He devoted a few minutes of time to Kamui’s stomach, in no hurry to get to his destination. His hand brushed over the front of Kamui’s pants, causing the smaller boy to give a startled moan.
Keiichi shifted his weight and considered for a minute, then pressed his lips against the fabric.
Kamui let out a choked cry, but managed to keep his hips still. One of his hands tightened in Keiichi’s hair. Keiichi grinned and continued to caress Kamui’s erection through the cloth, kissing it gently. Kamui moaned helplessly as Keiichi’s hands joined his mouth in their attention.
“God, stop,” he managed, making Keiichi pull away and give him a concerned look. “Nothing’s wrong, just . . .” he took a deep breath, “gonna come in my pants if you keep that up.”
Keiichi grinned, having lost all traces of embarrassment. “Let’s fix that problem, then,” he said, playing with the button of the jeans Kamui had borrowed.
“Yes, let’s,” Kamui said, trying to catch his breath. He closed his eyes and bit his lip as Keiichi undid his pants and pulled them off. His boxers slid away easily, caught with the pants.
He opened his eyes again to see Keiichi looking at him steadily. He wasn’t embarrassed, but felt himself flush anyway. Not so much from shame . . . but because he liked it. He liked having Keiichi watch him. It was a distinctly odd sensation. He’d never liked being looked at before.
“Are you going to tell me that I’m beautiful?” he whispered, feeling tears sting at his eyes.
Keiichi reached out and smoothed Kamui’s hair. “Actually, the word I was going to use was ‘perfect’,” he murmured. “No, don’t start crying . . .” He kissed the tears off Kamui’s cheeks. “I mean it, honestly . . . you look perfect to me.”
“Thanks,” Kamui replied softly, closing his eyes again. Keiichi kissed him again, and he surrendered to it completely, letting all his fears and pain melt away under his touch. Keiichi’s hand slid between them and Kamui let out a moan into his mouth as he felt Keiichi’s hand around him. “God . . .” He broke away for air, letting Keiichi’s lips land on the hollow of his throat.
Keiichi’s hand stroked him gently but deliberately, as if even now he was afraid of somehow hurting his friend.
Kamui’s hands made his way to Keiichi’s waist, then stopped. “Want to see you,” he managed to gasp out. Keiichi smiled and nodded encouragingly, so Kamui stripped off his pants with an efficiency that months of quick sex had taught him. He had never really felt comfortable looking at Subaru, knowing that his gaze wasn’t appreciated, and he’d never really wanted to look at Fuuma. Now he found his eyes sliding away automatically.
“Kamui,” Keiichi said, brushing his fingers over Kamui’s stomach, “look at me.”
Kamui managed to redirect his gaze, knowing that he was turning crimson. Keiichi just smiled slightly and waited, until Kamui realized he had no reason to be embarrassed and let his eyes travel. “You’re far more beautiful than I am,” he murmured.
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder,” Keiichi reminded him, leaning down to kiss him gently.
Kamui figured that if his eyes could wander, there was no reason his hands couldn’t. They slid down, tracing gentle fingers over the contour of Keiichi’s chest, then his stomach, then gently wrapping around his erection.
Keiichi let out a slight moan, closing his eyes and relaxing into Kamui’s touch. Kamui had far more experience than he did, and knew exactly how to get the best reaction out of Keiichi. He had Keiichi gasping for breath in a matter of seconds.
“Please,” he murmured, drawing Keiichi down to him. “I want you. I’ve been wanting you for months. I just didn’t want to hurt you.”
Keiichi kissed him again, deeply, leaving no corner of his mouth unexplored. “I’m, uh, on unknown territory here,” he admitted.
“S’okay,” Kamui murmured. “You’ll know what to do once you get there. Just . . . do you have any Vaseline, or lotion, or anything?”
“Yeah . . . why . . . oh. Right.” Keiichi turned pink. “Hang on a sec.” He very reluctantly lifted himself off Kamui and peeked out into the living room. Everyone else had gone to bed, so he darted across, into the bathroom, and found a little used jar of Vaseline. He carried it back into the bedroom and climbed back onto the bed.
“Don’t worry about hurting me,” Kamui said softly. “I doubt you really can at this point.”
Keiichi didn’t really like that, but didn’t reply. He rubbed some of the Vaseline on his fingers and reached down. Kamui shifted his hips, adjusting to Keiichi’s finger with a slight sigh. “You okay?” Keiichi asked hesitantly.
“Better than okay,” Kamui said, sounding a little breathless, as Keiichi added a second finger. “Now just . . . stretch me out a bit. Yeah . . . like that.” He clenched his teeth, trying not to cry out. “Not quite hitting it . . .” he said, almost to himself. “Bend your fingers a bit. Like -- ah!” His hips jerked.
“Like that?” Keiichi finished for him, sounding a bit amused.
“Just . . . like . . . that,” Kamui managed. “Now . . . please . . .”
Keiichi withdrew his fingers and positioned himself carefully. Kamui lifted his legs and wrapped them around Keiichi’s waist, to make it easier for him. Keiichi closed his eyes and pushed into Kamui a tiny bit. Kamui moaned so loudly that Keiichi nearly pulled away, thinking that he was hurting him. But at that point, he was moving involuntarily, and couldn’t stop.
They stayed like that for a minute, adjusting, breathing hard.
“Okay?” Keiichi asked, his voice strained. “Don’t want to hurt you . . .”
Kamui could only manage to nod. Keiichi began to move again, building up a rhythm that was slow and careful. “Touch me,” Kamui gasped out, his body moving against Keiichi’s in perfect unison. Keiichi reached down and began to stroke Kamui in time with his other movements, finally starting to lose control and going faster. Kamui didn’t seem to mind, if one judged by the volume and frequency of his cries. He knew that Keiichi had roommates, and was keeping himself surprisingly quiet, given the situation.
“Oh God . . .” Kamui’s entire body tensed and he bit down on his hand to keep from screaming, the other hand clenching tightly in Keiichi’s hair as he came. Keiichi let out a gasping cry of his own as he followed suit.
Everything was silent for a long time as they both tried to recover, basking in contentment.
Kamui was first to get his voice back, though all he could manage was a faint, “Wow.”
Keiichi managed a hum of agreement.
Another long silence.
“Is it always like that?” Keiichi asked dazedly.
Kamui snickered a little. “Not from my experience, but my experience hasn’t really been the best.” He paused. “C’mon, up. We need to wash or we’ll wake up all sticky.”
“But . . . sleepy,” Keiichi mumbled.
Kamui laughed and poked him in the ribs. “Up. Go wash up.”
Keiichi sighed and dragged himself off the bed. Kamui stripped the sheets off the bed while waiting for Keiichi to return. “Where are your clean sheets?” he asked, when he did.
“Don’t have any,” Keiichi said with a yawn. “I only own the one set. Lost everything in the earthquake, remember? This is the set that came with the dorm room.”
“Oh.” Kamui looked down at the sheets, then shrugged and flipped them over. “I’m gonna go clean up. Back in a minute.”
By the time he got back, Keiichi had curled up on the sheets already. Kamui crawled into his arms and let him drag the covers up over them both. He seemed to fit against Keiichi perfectly.
Subaru slept on his back, which made him very hard to snuggle up to. But Keiichi slept on his side, and Kamui nestled right up to him without a moment’s hesitation.
“See you in the morning, love,” Keiichi said sleepily.
Kamui let out a little sigh, knowing true peace for the first time in his life.
~~~~
Chapter Twenty-Three
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