Work Text:
Like rain, twilight fell over Tokyo.
The train hummed as it smoothly turned a bend. The pull rings swayed to the side in unison before falling perfectly back into line as the train cars straightened out. Through the windows and past the outline of city buildings, the sky was a shade of orange and red.
The seats were filled with salarymen and students. They were all dressed in their uniforms, their hair parted to the side and cut to a precise length. By this hour they were usually either sleeping or looking at their smartphones, and they unfailingly filled these roles.
Something warmed his hand, and when he looked down, he saw that he was holding a hand. He looked up, and he realized he was holding not just any hand, but their hand. Their face was turned away from him, and he wondered how they had gotten there.
There was a strange, tingling tension in the air. Turning to search for its source, he suddenly realized everyone’s eyes were trained on them. Their individual faces were gone. Their features had melted away into a row of white masks that gleefully ogled them.
The hairs on his arms were standing on end. He was in a cold sweat. A lump was in his throat. Almost instinctively, he tried to free his hand, but it was heavy, weighed down by something—and when he looked down, they were gone. It was just a hand, squeezing his hand in a death grip. He couldn’t free himself—
Miyuki’s eyes opened.
Everything was dark in his apartment. The alarm clock on the bedside table told him it was four in the morning, and the faint sound of drumming on glass past the blinds of his window suggested it was raining. He exhaled.
He’d gone to sleep late, and his eyes were heavy. But he didn’t want to dream, so he reached for his smartphone instead. It was flickering with a notification—a text message.
Sent at 01:02
Dad: How's everything going?
Miyuki blearily thought for a few seconds, before responding:
Sent at 04:02
Me: Fine, you?
He didn’t usually pick up Sawamura at the train station anymore—he had been over his place enough times and knew the way on his own. However, for the first time in a while, as soon as Sawamura had texted him that he was a few stops away, Miyuki left his apartment.
At the station, Sawamura soon emerged, walking down the stairs from the platform, and as he tapped his Suica card at the ticket gate, he caught sight of Miyuki. His face started to light up—before his eyes suddenly narrowed in suspicion. “Well, this is a rare treat, having you pick me up at the station. Is today some special occasion?”
Miyuki offered a crooked smile. “You get to see me. Isn’t that special enough?”
In response, Sawamura rolled his eyes, but not before Miyuki saw the corners of his lips twitch uncontrollably. “Sure, why not.”
The rain had stopped earlier in the day, and the afternoon sun was out, reflecting brilliantly off the puddles in the street. Sawamura fell into a comfortable pace by him, watching the cars of the afternoon traffic weave past. A bell dinged behind them, and Miyuki moved to the side to let the bicyclist past. As he moved back into place, the backs of their hands brushed against each other.
“How’s your dad doing?” asked Sawamura.
“The same as usual,” said Miyuki. “How’re they on your end?”
“Well, everyone’s healthy.” A pause. "Gramps is getting old though."
Across the street, the automatic doors of a FamilyMart opened, and a pair of high schoolers stepped out. Still dressed in their school uniforms, while they were resolutely avoiding looking at each other, their hands were intertwined in a tight clasp.
Sawamura had noticed them too; Miyuki saw a faint smile cross his face. But he didn’t say anything.
The door to Miyuki’s apartment had barely clicked shut behind them when he grabbed Sawamura’s hand and pulled him in closer. Sawamura must have been waiting, for he wrapped his other hand around Miyuki’s neck and then they were kissing. Their bodies wrapped around each other, they somehow stumbled their way to Miyuki’s bedroom. Stripping off his shirt and falling back on the bed, Sawamura raised his head to kiss him again.
However, denying him the kiss for now, Miyuki instead smoothly slid his lips across his cheek to his ear. Tracing the shell with his tongue, he swirled it lightly over the surface and then dipped it inside. In response, Sawamura shivered below him, and he began to lick more boldly, allowing his breath to envelope the ear before engulfing it whole in his mouth, inducing a sharp hissing sound from Sawamura that went straight to Miyuki's crotch.
Roughly taking his own shirt off, Miyuki made his way down Sawamura’s body with his tongue. Leaving a wet trail past his collarbones, he paused at his nipples to tease them with his teeth. Suddenly, Sawamura, who had been running his fingers through Miyuki’s hair, pulled roughly at it.
“What?” said Miyuki, looking up.
Sawamura licked his lips. “No games today. I want you.”
In a heartbeat, the half-boner he had been sporting turned fully erect.
“As you wish,” he said.
Leaning back, Miyuki quickly unbuckled his belt and took off his jeans, relieving the pressure on his straining erection. As Sawamura did the same, Miyuki grabbed the tube of lube from behind his headboard. Squirting the cold liquid onto his hand, he slathered himself with it. Feeling Sawamura’s eyes on his frame, Miyuki rolled him onto his front and nudged his opening with the tip of his cock.
Sawamura moaned impatiently and thrust back against it. With a sly smile, Miyuki pushed slowly forward, letting his cock slide teasingly up and down against the inside of Sawamura’s thigh. Instantly, Sawamura’s hand rose up to grab Miyuki’s cock and lower himself onto it, but Miyuki batted it away.
“Patience,” he chided.
But he wanted it just as badly. Grabbing Sawamura by the side, he lined himself up and then closing his eyes, he slowly sank inside. Enveloped in the incredibly tight and warm sensation, Miyuki let out an involuntary groan. Pulling back, he thrust forward again, sinking inside all the way. At the same time, his free hand snaked around to Sawamura’s front and began to stroke him. Sawamura moaned into the mattress, his entire body quivering around Miyuki’s dick.
He couldn’t think straight anymore. He picked up his rhythm, the pleasure in his cock building up as the sound of flesh pounding on flesh and Sawamura's heated moans rang in his ears. With a shudder, Sawamura came first, his cum spilling out into Miyuki’s hand, and he followed shortly afterward.
Unmoving, they lay in bed, their panting easing into a comfortable silence that lulled them to sleep.
It was raining again.
The train shook as it turned a bend. The pull rings swung wildly without reason in all directions. Through the windows and past the outline of city buildings, the sky was pitch black. Crows cawed in the distance.
He was the only one there in the train. Rain was seeping in through cracks in the ceiling, dripping down on the empty seats around him. At first, there were just puddles around his ankles. But the water level quickly rose, and soon it was at his neck. It wasn't stopping. It would swallow him soon. And yet, he couldn’t move.
Miyuki opened his eyes, his heart pounding painfully in his chest.
His apartment was grey. He didn’t know what time it was; the view of his alarm clock was blocked by the sleeping figure before him. Tufts of brown hair spilled over Sawamura's closed eyes. Reaching forward, Miyuki touched Sawamura's cheek. It was warm. The heat radiated into his cold fingers, and he felt his heart slow to something between sleep and wakefulness.
Sent at 20:48
Kuramochi: Are u here yet
Sent at 20:53
Me: Give me 5 minutes.
Sent at 21:17
Me: Ok I’m here where are you
Sent at 21:18
Kuramochi: Fuck u
Miyuki found Kuramochi wedged into the corner at the end of their usual bar, nursing a beer. Sitting down on the adjacent stool, he cheerily ordered a pint for himself and a platter of edamame for “the grumpy gentleman to his right.”
“Why do I put up with you?” Kuramochi grunted.
“Because I’m the only one willing to put up with all your baby photos.”
“That’s not true. Wakana looks at them.”
“Doesn't count when it's her baby too."
Kuramochi snorted. “Not everyone’s as jaded about settling down as you are.”
“Yeah, yeah. How's work?"
"The usual. You?"
"Fine. Now that we've got the pleasantries out of the way, hit me with them.”
Kuramochi obliged without protest, opening his phone and showing Miyuki the newest photos of his newborn. “She just started walking last week,” he said, his voice noticeably softer.
Fatherhood suited his old classmate, Miyuki thought as he drained his first pint. "You got a smoke?" he asked.
"No."
Taken aback, Miyuki blinked questioningly.
With a deep sigh, Kuramochi sank down into his seat. “Wakana and I have been talking about it for a while. I’m finally quitting. For Nami’s sake.”
Miyuki let out a long whistle. Out of everyone he knew, Kuramochi—a chain smoker since the day he’d quit baseball—would’ve been the last person he expected to drop the habit. “You're quitting cold turkey?”
Kuramochi winced. “That’s the goal.”
“Wow. Well. Good luck.”
“Thanks. What’s that you’re texting?”
“Nothing.”
Sent at 21:43
Me: Kuramochi’s quitting smoking
Sent at 21:45
Bakamura: ?!?!???!?!?!
“So how’s Sawamura been doing?”
In a knee-jerk reaction, Miyuki tore his eyes away from his screen. “What do you mean?”
Kuramochi raised an eyebrow. "I mean, I’ve been so busy, I haven’t seen him much. I figured since you're always hanging out, you'd know what he's been up to.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah, we're going out to eat for his birthday."
"Yeah? Where was my invite?"
Miyuki shifted in his seat. "It's just going to be the two of us. Thai food, if you wanted to know."
Kuramochi's other eyebrow shot up to join the first. "You two are as chummy as ever, I see."
"We're thick as thieves," Miyuki smiled. "In fact, we're getting married next month. You're still not invited though."
"Yeah, okay," said Kuramochi, returning his gaze to his photos.
The day had been long and the night even longer. As Miyuki headed back to his apartment from the station, the surrounding houses, usually so familiar by daylight, seemed alien and dark. The mournful hum of the train leaving the station sounded behind him.
Sawamura was waiting for him on the metal stairway leading up to his apartment complex. In the glow of the street lamp, they caught sight of each other at the same time. Neither spoke a word. Miyuki hauled himself up the stairs and sat down. The metal felt cold even through his pants.
Then, Sawamura leaned against his shoulder and picked up his hand. It was cool outside, and he didn't know how long Sawamura had been waiting. But his skin was warm. Sawamura was always warm, he thought.
"Have you ever thought that you wanted kids?" he asked.
"Wait, what? Kids? Where's this coming from?" Sawamura's eyes narrowed. "Kuramochi-senpai."
"Just answer the question."
Sawamura hesitated—and then shrugged. "Yeah, I suppose... I always used to wish I had a brother or sister. What about you?"
Miyuki grinned. "That's a secret."
"What?" Sawamura threateningly dug his fingernails into Miyuki's palm. "That's not fair. I told you my answer."
His grin growing increasingly strained, he replied, "Too bad. Life's never fair."
Fortunately, the pressure gave way and as Sawamura grumbled to himself, Miyuki reclined back and looked up at the sky. The view wasn't great; it had been better, all those years back when they had been in the Seidou dormitories and baseball had been their biggest concern. And yet something about that moment reminded him of it.
"Do you remember that time in high school, on the train?" Sawamura's voice broke in.
"Hm?"
"When I tried to hold your hand. It was a joke, and you still got mad at me."
Miyuki paused. "What're you bringing that up now for?"
"Well, I had a dream about it last night. It was super nostalgic. So...do you remember it?"
"Of course I do," he said. "You were upset for weeks."
While Sawamura had pouted and ignored him back then, the Sawamura beside him now smiled wryly, and the glow of the street lamp caressed his face, softening its angles. Miyuki felt his heart ache.
Whatever the nightmares that haunted him, he couldn't say that the world was alien or cold.
Not when they had each other.
"We sure were young back then," said Sawamura.
"Young and scared," he agreed. Intertwining their fingers, he raised the back of Sawamura's hand to his lips and murmured into it.
Sawamura cocked his head. "What's that?"
"Nothing," he said.
Sent at 23:51
Me: There's something I have to tell you.
Sent at 00:02
Dad: What is it?