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"I'm home!"
"Welcome home." Kirishima, who had been sitting at the dining table with Yokozawa, got up and greeted Hiyori with a smile as she came into the apartment.
"Welcome home," Yokozawa offered, and smiled at the little girl, genuinely pleased to see her.
"Oniichan!" Hiyo's face brightened when she spotted him. "I missed you! Are you staying for dinner tonight?"
Kirishima affected a look of mock hurt. "What, no greeting for your dad?"
"I did greet you! Besides, I see you everyday. I haven't seen Oniichan in forever!"
Kirishima smiled slyly as he looked at Yokozawa. "Neither have I. It's lonely around here without him, right?"
"It really is! Will you stay over tonight and help me with my homework?" she asked earnestly.
Yokozawa shot an annoyed glance at Kirishima, then turned toward Hiyori. "I'll stay over tonight if you want help with your homework."
"And breakfast tomorrow! You have to sleep over!"
"Of course. I'll make a Japanese breakfast, okay?"
"Yay!"
Yokozawa felt a little guilty about this. Hiyori almost never asked about how long he was staying, or if he could, out of respect for his busy schedule. If she was asking, she must've really missed having him over. He felt tenderness welling up in his heart for the little girl, and for this quiet scene of domestic bliss that he loved so much.
"I like it when Oniichan stays over, too." Kirishima slipped in, ready as always to needle Yokozawa. Before Yokozawa could return a belligerent comment, he went on. "Well, that's settled then. What about the museum?"
"Oh! It was wonderful! They had exhibits up about ancient South America! We saw that they had pyramids too, just like Egypt..."
As Hiyori's energetic story about going to the museum with Yuki and her parents washed over him, he was slightly ashamed of where his thoughts took him.
Despite the easy family life while Hiyori was around, there was... something wrong, and Yokozawa couldn't quite put his finger on it. Both Yokozawa and Kirishima had been quite busy lately. A movie promotion for a series running in Emerald had Yokozawa working overtime and weekends for the better part of a month, scrambling around to all the associated events, coordinating with all the vendors, and patrolling the various participating bookstores. The wrap-up had coincided with the end of the editorial cycle for Kirishima, and the two had seen very little of each other for another week. This, of course, led into a fair for the shoujo magazine Sally to promote a new anime for one of their series. That lasted another two weeks.
Yokozawa now felt blissfully free, even with his usual heavy workload. While busy, he had, of course, still kept in contact with Kirishima through calls and e-mails as normal, and he had even made it over for a couple Sunday afternoons to have lunch with both father and daughter. But this afternoon... he'd rather die than have Kirishima find out how much he was looking forward to spending time with him alone.
Something had been off, though. Yokozawa didn't quite know what it was. It wasn't that it had been awkward. They had gotten along fine, and Kirishima's usual teasing let Yokozawa know that the other man wasn't upset or angry that they hadn't been spending much time together. But it still felt like Kirishima had been holding something back. Yokozawa had no idea what it was. He'd been trying to work his way up to asking if there was anything wrong, but Hiyori had arrived before he gathered his courage.
"Oniichan! What's wrong?" Hiyori interrupted his thoughts. "Did Dad do something to make you mad while I was gone?" At this, Hiyori turned a glowering look upon her father, who put his hands up in mock defense, looking chagrined.
Yokozawa, not realizing his thoughts had shown on his face, smiled. "No, nothing like that. I guess I got lost for a minute. We can get started on dinner though, if you're hungry?" At this, Yokozawa rose from the table.
"Hiyo! Your father is disappointed you would think so little of him. Even Yokozawa says I was the perfect gentlemen this afternoon."
"I didn't say that." Yokozawa's smile was replaced with a look of mild annoyance. "You were still pretty much yourself."
"You're a troublemaker, dad!" Hiyori rounded on him. "If you keep making fun of Oniichan, he'll stop coming over, and you don't have any other friends!"
Kirishima burst out laughing. Yokozawa had to put his hand up over his mouth and turn quickly into the kitchen to hide the evidence of his own laughter.
"Such abuse, and from my own daughter! Do you really think I don't have any other friends?" Kirishima asked, once he had gotten his mirth under control.
"Not like Oniichan. Besides, I like Oniichan best."
"Well, so do I." Kirishima affirmed, without a hint of shame. Yokozawa was still facing away, making a show of staring into the refrigerator. His face turned red at this, and his stomach twisted. This was dangerous territory to tread in front of Hiyo, but of course Kirishima loved this sort of thing.
"Oniichan, do you like dad the best, too? Is he your best friend, like Yuki is my best friend?" Hiyori turned into the kitchen and asked him earnestly.
Yokozawa became tongue-tied, fearing that he might burst into flames on the spot. He mastered his expression as best he could, and turned to look at Hiyori. Of course, he couldn't do this without catching a glimpse of Kirishima's face, looking smug and satisfied. What an infuriating man.
"It works a little differently for grownups than it does for you and Yuki. But you don't think I spend as much time with anyone else as I do with you guys?" He bent down to address Hiyori seriously, and sent a prayer of thanks to whatever silver-tongued deity had sent him such a smooth, Kirishima-like response.
She seemed to consider this seriously for a moment. "No, I guess you couldn't, huh? Well, that's good! It makes me happy to see you again, after so long. I missed you, Oniichan!" At this, Hiyori threw her arms around Yokozawa and gave him a hug. Yokozawa's heart melted once again at this, and he sent another silent prayer of thanks that the moment had passed.
He chanced a glance at Kirishima again while he was hugging Hiyori. His face was drawn into a pout, as if disappointed there wasn't more mayhem involved in that perfect, awkward exchange.
Yokozawa felt a stab of triumph at that, and gave Kirishima the kind of smug look he normally didn't get a chance to wear himself. He pulled Hiyori out in front of him, and decided to get down to business. "What were you thinking for tonight?"
Hiyori's eyes shined excitedly. "Can we have hotpot?"
"Of course." He stood up and began pulling items out of the refrigerator. The scene turned domestic again, the kind that he had missed so much over the past six weeks.
But still, as he poured over the exchange in his head, everything seemed right to him. So what was it that had thrown him off this afternoon?
----------------------------
Yokozawa found himself staring up at the ceiling several days later, in his bed at the Kirishima's apartment. He knew what was wrong now.
Kirishima hadn't made any sexual passes in over two months.
Hiyori was staying over at a friend's house tonight, since the two of them had been working on a project together. Yokozawa had come over, of course, and fixed dinner for himself and Kirishima. The two had passed a pleasant evening, and later than anticipated, Kirishima had excused himself to use the bath and retire to bed.
Yokozawa had braced himself all night for the inevitable moment where Kirishima would find a chink in his armor, the conversational gambit that would lead to him straddling Yokozawa on the couch, holding his face in his hands, bringing his mouth closer...
No.
And anyway, that hadn't happened.
His sleeplessness was due to the fact that he couldn't believe how much it was affecting him. It should be the opposite, right? Those situations always got Yokozawa so mixed up. He felt like he was being swept away, playing directly into Kirishima's hands as they wandered over his thighs, to the waistband of his pants...
No.
What did it mean, anyway? Well, it was better this way, wasn't it? Yokozawa definitely felt way too... something when Kirishima got going. And it was always so infuriating. Kirishima knew exactly how to push Yokozawa's buttons, and usually got Yokozawa riled up and angry with teasing just before...
Just before the kisses started. He rolled over on his side, dismissing the memories of just what a good kisser Kirishima really was.
So? Wasn't his life easier without Kirishima...
...running his hands through his hair, teasing him with bites on the earlobe as he whispered the most infuriating trash into his ear, but then...
...I love you, you know...
Yokozawa sat up. His thoughts were leading him down a dangerous road.
No.
Setting aside this train of thought, which, clearly, should have a very straightforward answer! Really, it made him so furious to see him getting his own way, Kirishima forcing his will in such a way so that Yokozawa couldn't refuse...
...couldn't refuse the hot breath on his skin, the kisses that slowly trailed down his neck, down to a nipple, where his mouth and tongue played softly, gently...
No.
No. No. No.
For fuck's sake, he was getting an erection now. Just from thinking about it! He glared at the wall that separated this bedroom from Kirishima's. He wasn't even here, and he was managing to torment Yokozawa. Annoying.
He swung his legs around to the side of the bed, planted his feet on the floor, and dropped his head into his hands, defeated. Well, what now?
A traitorous thought crept into the back of his mind. "You're at your lover's house, and his daughter is away. Go into his bedroom and seduce him. It's Kirishima. He won't need much convincing to have sex."
"LIKE HELL I WILL!" He bellowed to an empty room, and then froze. He was sure Kirishima could hear him, but he heard no stirring in the hallway.
While he was frozen, another voice, more sinister than the first, popped into his head. "He probably wouldn't even want it if you did. If he wanted to have sex with you, he would have tonight, right? Why wouldn't he? It's probably because he's tired of you rejecting him, tired of forcing you."
Yokozawa caught his breath. Would Kirishima think that? Kirishima always said that he liked that Yokozawa put up such a fight, So that didn't bother him.
Did it?
"Wouldn't anybody be bothered if they got rejected by their lover every single time they had sex?" the sinister voice asked him again.
Yokozawa shook his head. Not Kirishima Zen. Not...
He squeezed his eyes shut.
"Just go over there and find out for yourself." The traitorous voice told him.
But he didn't think he could take it if he was rejected. It would be much, much worse than it was with Takano.
He forced his mind away from that. He didn't want to think about it.
"If you're so sure he doesn't mind you rejecting him, I guess he just doesn't find you attractive anymore." the sinister voice suggested.
This was something that always niggled at the back of Yokozawa's mind, since he was never sure what Kirishima saw in him. Kirishima was very attractive, with movie-star good looks, and Yokozawa... was average at best. Couldn't even smile properly without frightening people. Terrible temperament.
Well, this was depressing. He flopped backwards onto the bed and looked up at the ceiling again.
He wasn't going to fall asleep at this rate, and he needed some sleep before he went to work tomorrow. And that first train of thought was more pleasant anyway.
He laid back and closed his eyes. Maybe Kirishima was just getting older. Maybe he's been too tired or too busy, or just hadn't been in the mood. There were lots of simple reasons, and it was possible he would stop worrying if he vented some of his pent-up sexual frustration.
"Are you really going to masturbate less than ten feet from your lover without asking him to have sex with you?"
"Yes." muttered Yokozawa aloud, as he freed his failing erection from his pants and began stroking himself lightly.
He thought about the last time he had done this. Not since dating Kirishima... but he had masturbated quite a bit to the thought of Takano on top of him. His heart wilted at the thought of this, and he got his mind back on the previous track.
...you're cute, you know that? he would whisper to him as he undid the fly of his pants, pulling down the waistband of his underwear and freeing his erection, stroking it gently at first, making his body heat up, and he would wrap his arms around his back and pull him in closer...
...lowering him onto his hot, stiff erection, entering him, violating him, filling him up, then moving, moving, moving, stroking his erection rhythmically as the movement increased, got faster, built up inside him...
He grunted and came, somewhat embarrassed that it had taken so short a time. He opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling. If he thought about the implications of what he had just done, he knew he would work himself up into a frenzy, and he would never fall asleep.
Don't think about it anymore. Wash your hands and go to bed. Think about what you're going to do at work tomorrow.
He grabbed a couple tissues off the nightstand and wiped himself clean, then went out into the hallway.
He was almost certain he blushed to the tips of his toes when he ran into Kirishima coming out of the bathroom. He hoped it was too dark in the hallway to see the look on his face, because Yokozawa could not mask his mortification fast enough.
He couldn't tell if Kirishima saw him, or if the shit-eating grin on his face was a natural reaction. Either way, it helped Yokozawa set his features into a scowl, but didn't help his blushing.
"I heard you yelling earlier. Were you having a bad dream?" he asked smugly, leaning in closer.
Yokozawa shoved his hands into the pockets of his pajama pants and looked at the floor. He weighed his options. Kirishima would likely tease him if he told him it was a dream, but the truth was far worse.
"Yeah, haven't been sleeping well." he muttered to the floor, waiting for Kirishima to move back into his bedroom.
"Was it because you missed me?" Kirishima teased, his grin mellowing into a lopsided smile.
At this, Yokozawa clenched his jaw and looked up and into Kirishima's dancing eyes. There's no way he knew what Yokozawa had been doing. He had made sure there was no noise while he did it. This had to be the usual teasing.
"Hell no." he said, brushing past Kirishima and into the bathroom, not waiting for Kirishima to move.
Kirishima paused, though Yokozawa was facing away and didn't see the look on his face.
"If you say so. Good night, Takafumi." He called in a lilting voice, then went into his bedroom and shut the door.
Yokozawa slammed the door to the bathroom closed, then slumped onto the floor. His first fucking name, with no honorifics! Kirishima knew that would rile him up, and normally he would have risen to the bait, and followed him into the bedroom to make sure he never did that ever again, under any circumstances, because it was far too embarrassing.
But he had to get into the bathroom to end the conversation.
"Was it because you missed me?"
Fuck him. Seriously. There's no way he knew.
Yokozawa had also been fairly sure that Kirishima was going to lean in to kiss him. And he knew he wouldn't have fought it this time. Or he would have fought it harder than ever, because it wouldn't have taken a genius to figure out what he'd been up to in the bedroom once they got started. And he would have rather died than admit he had just got himself off with thoughts of Kirishima touching him. Which he knew Kirishima would know, if he saw the evidence, and would make him say out loud.
He ground his teeth together. He was pretty sure the first name baiting had been an invitation to join him in his bedroom. And he probably would have, if he hadn't just helped himself a minute ago, and if he could have brought himself to swallow his pride and admit it to Kirishima.
"Shit." he muttered, lowering his head into his hands again. Had he just blown the invitation himself? No, usually Kirishima was more forceful. He would never wait for Yokozawa to set himself up like that. He would have just taken. It was how their relationship worked.
..."good night, Takafumi" he said with a low, exhausted voice, Yokozawa's head cradled in one of his arms, laying face to face as he ran his fingers through his hair...
Fuck. He was getting an erection again. He slammed the back of his head against the door. What was he, seventeen? Was he going to have a wet dream tonight, too?
He scowled, realizing he was going to have to masturbate again before he went to bed.
----------------------------
Yokozawa's brows were furrowed as he looked across the table at Kirishima.
It was Friday night, a week and a half later, and Kirishima still hadn't made any moves. There had only been a couple opportunities, but Kirishima had uncharacteristically not seized them, hadn't even tried or made overtures. The regular Kirishima would have been bold about stealing kisses a few more times than that, too.
So Yokozawa had been proactive. He had asked Kirishima over to his apartment, and Kirishima had consented, sending Hiyori over to her grandparents for the night. To make sure the evening turned out how he wanted, Yokozawa had stocked the place with enough booze to get the entirety of Marukawa Shoten drunk. He had cooked what he thought was a fabulous meal, and the two of them had been drinking beer and sake all evening long as they gossiped about work and current projects.
Yokozawa had forgotten that Kirishima had the highest alcohol tolerance of anybody he'd ever met. He was sure Kirishima had downed at least twice as much as he had, but unfortunately, Yokozawa was the one who was very, very drunk. The part of Yokozawa's mind that was still thinking clearly knew that his plan had backfired terribly. He may say something he would regret later, if Kirishima steered the conversation in the wrong direction.
Kirishima had paused in conversation, and was studying Yokozawa right back, smiling placidly.
"It's so rare for you to ask me over to your apartment. What's the occasion?" Kirishima asked innocently.
"N-nothing," Yokozawa stammered, groping for any reason that wasn't true. He sat in silence for a moment, staring into his lap and gathering his thoughts, knowing he looked suspicious as hell and would have "liar" written all over his face. "I... just couldn't think of the last time I actually asked you over. You normally just show up uninvited."
"Hmm, usually when we're fighting." Kirishima confirmed, propping his head lazily up with his hand on the tabletop, gazing into Yokozawa's eyes. "But we don't really fight about much. It's usually a misunderstanding."
Yokozawa thought about this, and realized it was true. There really wasn't anything they fought about, which was unusual for him. Part of this was because Kirishima tended to not take Yokozawa's bouts of anger seriously. It was infuriating, but most other people that had been with Yokozawa had given back as much as they got. Yet another reason Kirishima was good for him.
"Sometimes... it's because you need to ask me something, or there's something you need to tell me and don't. That's really the only thing that sets me off." Kirishima paused. "Is there something you want to ask me?"
Yokozawa began sweating nervously, not sure he could handle this while drunk. "No!" he barked, a little too forcefully, while staring at the wall next to Yokozawa's head. He took a deep breath to try to settle himself before continuing. "I just wanted to cook, and I thought it would be nice to do it here for a change."
"It's not like you to want to leave Sorata alone by himself. Isn't that why you started coming over in the first place?"
"...Sorata's got nothing to do with this." He returned feebly, the sober corner of his brain cursing the rest for incaution.
"Oh? With what?"
Yokozawa clammed up, knowing that whatever came out of his mouth was going to be a drunken mess that Kirishima, who seemed only tipsy, would seize on.
"You know, I don't think I've seen you this drunk since you broke up with your last lover." Kirishima tossed off carelessly.
"He wasn't my lover! " Yokozawa was quick to clarify.
Kirishima raised his brows. "Oh, I know well enough you don't really think of him anymore, no need to rush in and defend yourself."
"I-I, I wasn't..." he responded, blustering his way through a defense, then sputtering off, unable to continue.
"You went on and on about how much you loved Takano, and how your life was over, and how it wasn't fair that he'd found someone else."
He didn't respond, knowing they were headed into dangerous waters.
"I liked seeing such strong emotion in you. I was hoping, if you wanted to drink this much tonight, it would loosen your tongue and get you babbling about your lover again."
"YOU-" Yokozawa stood up, shoving his chair back from the table.
"Yes, me." Kirishima smoothly cut in, smiling up at him while sitting calmly at the table.
Somehow, Yokozawa found it in himself to continue the thread of his original thought and not rise to that challenge. "You... brought me to a hotel! You stripped me naked and told me you took pictures! I thought you were a complete pervert!"
He let it hang in the air.
He waited. Kirishima let the conversation die, and the two sat awkwardly together in silence for several minutes, Yokozawa still standing and glowering down on Kirishima. This was not working out as he planned at all. Kirishima was supposed to make a pass! He did it all the time! He did it when he was stone sober! And he hadn't so much as kissed him tonight!
"Fuck this. I'm going to bed." Yokozawa said, walking towards the small bedroom.
"Yokozawa."
Something firm in his voice made him stop dead. But he didn't turn around.
"Is there something you wanted to ask me tonight?"
The tone of voice Kirishima used made him feel like a scolded elementary student. He was using his best dad voice.
Why haven't you touched me in so long? Why haven't we had sex? Why haven't you kissed me in over two months? Did you finally realize I'm not attractive enough? Are you-
Yokozawa's tongue wouldn't move to voice any of the thoughts that whirred through his head after Yokozawa's question. But the last one made him turn around and blurt it out, because it scared him so badly.
"Are you breaking up with me?"
Kirishima looked alarmed at this question, and he stood up. "No! What are you talking about? Are you thinking of breaking up with me?"
He clenched his jaw harder, and looked at the floor. 'Why haven't we had sex?' stuck in his throat again.
Say it.
Say it, or lose him.
He turned to face the door of the bedroom again, unable to look Kirishima in the face. "No. I would never break up with you. I'm too happy."
He walked into the bedroom, closed the door, and flopped face down, fully clothed, onto his bed.
He hoped it was enough. It was all he had to give.
Before he could think about what had just happened, or to see if Kirishima had followed him into the bedroom, the alcohol caught up to him and he passed out.
----------------------------
The next Friday, Yokozawa had finally worked up his courage. He pushed his way through one of the revolving doors at the entrance to Marukawa Shoten, and spied Kirishima waiting for him at the end of the paved outdoor lobby, casually leaning against a planter, waving at him when he spotted him, and generally having no idea how good he looked in the warm evening.
Last week had been an unqualified disaster, though Kirishima had done him the favor of not mentioning it. He had woken up to a raging hangover the next day, and was surprised to see Kirishima had woken up early and prepared a very good omurice breakfast. He must've woken up far earlier than Yokozawa, because there hadn't been any fresh eggs in his apartment, and Kirishima would have had to go out and buy them.
They had probably slept together, since Yokozawa only had one bed, but Kirishima was never in it while Yokozawa was awake.
Since Kirishima didn't have any clothes over at Yokozawa's place, they had gone back over to his apartment, where Yokozawa had done the laundry, then Hiyori came back that morning, and the weekend had proceeded as it normally did, with no mention of that ugly Friday night.
Yokozawa still couldn't figure out why Kirishima wasn't having sex with him, and it was preying on him... though Kirishima's genuine shock at the question of whether they were breaking up did much to steady his nerves about the state of their relationship.
So tonight, he just had to ask.
The problem was, he didn't think he could get it out.
So.
Hiyori was staying over at Yuki's place tonight, so the evening was free. He knew they were just going to go back to Kirishima's apartment, like they always did, and Yokozawa knew if they did that, the night would turn out like all the other ones lately.
So he had texted Kirishima at the last minute, telling him to meet him out front instead.
He strode determinedly up to Kirishima, and... lost momentum. "Good evening," he offered, bowing stiffly and formally.
Kirishima laughed. The knot inside of Yokozawa's stomach eased slightly. "You looked so determined walking over here, it made me realize how lucky I am to be dating such a good-looking guy. I must say, though, I am curious what kind of surprise you have planned for us this evening."
Yokozawa blithely ignored the incendiary comment and turned abruptly towards the street. "We need a cab."
Kirishima gave him a teasing smile, but said nothing. Yokozawa stubbornly hailed a cab, and gave the directions to where they were going.
Twenty minutes later, the two stepped out in front of a large, prominent business hotel. Kirishima looked up at it as Yokozawa paid the cab fare.
"It was cute of you to give the street directions, rather than telling the cab driver the name of the hotel. You wanted to surprise me."
Yokozawa burned with embarrassment, but swallowed his comebacks, knowing it wasn't going to get him anywhere. Before he lost his nerve, he all but sprinted up and through the doors of the hotel, leaving Kirishima behind. He got his key from the front desk, then waited for Kirishima to join him in the elevator. The latter looked amused, but didn't ask any questions.
There were other passengers, but Yokozawa was so nervous, he could see he was scaring the three young women that were sharing the elevator with them. The seconds ticked by slowly, the elevator gears ground away, the air was stifling, and Yokozawa was more and more sure he was going to lose his nerve.
"Yokozawa, are you sure O-sensei is going to be here this time?"
He looked up at Kirishima confused. "O-sensei? I-I, I don't..." then he got it, so relieved that he almost slumped against the wall. "No, just O-sensei's manager. O-sensei gets too worked up about the promotions, so it's easier if we talk to her handler, then have her give the news to sensei later."
"Ah, is that so? I've never worked with her before. I usually don't work with artists that aren't drawing for Japun, after all."
At this, Yokozawa scowled, but maintained the fake conversation, as the other passengers were relaxing visibly. As was he. "Well, sensei's handler is Koizumi, you know, who's worked with you before. She felt more comfortable if I brought along an editor who's input she could trust." Just then, the doors opened, and Yokozawa stepped off onto their floor, continuing the conversation, afraid he would jump out of his skin if he didn't.
"Koizumi's pretty easy to work with. We've done one or two campaigns with sensei's work in the past. The first one was a disaster, sensei couldn't make up her mind, and kept changing things at the last minute. Which, of course, because it's O-sensei, we had to comply with. I wish they were a little more firm with the creators at Sally, but O-sensei's work is so popular that they let it happen. It was so much easier the second time, but we still let sensei..."
Yokozawa was aware he was babbling. He was just as aware that he was likely to bolt out the Emergency Exit if he stopped. He still wasn't sure he could go through with this, but they would see in a minute.
He did stop talking when they got to the door, and his hand was shaking so badly he couldn't get the key into the slot.
"I'm excited to see what kind of input I can give for a promotion for a Sally series. The campaigns we do for Japun are so alike, really." Which was completely untrue. They were handled very differently, and Kirishima knew it. Yokzawa cursed mentally at the teasing, shoved the key home, and opened the door.
Kirishima reached past him to flip the lights on using the switch. "Ah, Koizumi! So happy to see you! My daughter is a huge fan of O-sensei's work..."
While Kirishima was spouting this fiction, the two of them had walked into the room. Yokozawa slammed the door, shoved Kirishima backwards into it, then planted a kiss on his mouth.
It was long, hard, and deep. Yokozawa didn't breathe as he teased Kirishima's tongue, ran his along the inside of his mouth, sucked, nipped, and basically took greedily what he'd missed.
After a minute, he pulled away, gasping. He looked up into Kirishima's face, and saw a look of shock. For the first time in their relationship, Yokozawa could tell he had won, he had the upper ground, and it made him bold.
He couldn't ask, so this was the only way he could find out if Kirishima still... loved him like this.
He also couldn't stop here. It had been too long.
He yanked at Kirishima's belt and had his pants open before he could think much about it. With one hand, he stroked Kirishima's building erection while he yanked his own belt and pants with the other, freeing his own erection.
Don't think about it. Just do it. Do it because it feels right.
When precum had slicked both erections, he grabbed Kirishima's hand and put it on his own erection. Kirishima hesitated at first, and Yokozawa smirked up at him as Kirishima, clearly still in a daze, made an attempt to collect himself and attend to the task at hand. So to speak. When Kirishima opened his mouth to say something, Yokozawa crushed his mouth against Kirishima's again, putting his free hand to the back of Kirishima's head. At this point, Kirishima grabbed his shoulder and squeezed so hard that Yokozawa was sure that he'd have bruises there tomorrow. But he didn't care. He could feel Kirishima's knees shaking, his body beginning to slump, and he wasn't sure what to do, so he shoved his knee between Kirishima's legs.
Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he registered shock when Kirishima came before he did. But he was too worked up to think about it right now. Just before he came, he put his forehead against Kirishima's, still holding the back of his head with the other hand.
So quietly, he wasn't sure he was saying it out loud, he could feel his mouth making words.
"Zen..."
And he came. They stood for a couple minutes in silence, not speaking, only gasping for breath and holding each other's spent members in their hands. The lights were on, but Yokozawa couldn't bring himself to look Kirishima in the face right now.
He relaxed his grip on Kirishima's penis, but just as he was pulling away, he felt Kirishima hook his leg behind his knees and force him down on the ground. They were on the edge of the genkan, and Yokozawa could feel that he was sitting on the floor. He was still wearing his shoes, which were dangling down into the entranceway. He was pretty sure Kirishima was, too, but Kirishima seemed more interested in crushing him to the floor and kissing him hard.
With his hands, Kirishima yanked Yokozawa's pants and underwear down, and Yokozawa lifted his hips to help him. The floor was hard, and he was sure he was going to regret this, regret this whole thing tomorrow-
No. Don't think about it.
Instead, he moved his hands to Kirishima's shirt buttons. He fumbled, then simply tore open the front of his shirt. He could hear the buttons flying off around the room. He didn't care, he just needed to touch Kirishima's back, needed to hold on, needed to raise his hips while Kirishima probed deeper and further in, still, while their lips were locked and they were crushing each other together.
After several minutes of this, Kirishima pulled away briefly, then came back and entered Yokozawa, kneeling in the genkan and raising him up by his knees.
Yokozawa wasn't clear on what happened after that. Kirishima had never made love so roughly, so hard, so sweetly, so silently. He pounded relentlessly, and Yokozawa cried out inarticulately, not thinking, only feeling. He blacked out at one point, unsure what was happening. When he came to, they had both climaxed, and Kirishima was gasping for breath, facedown on the floor next to him.
Neither one said anything, afraid to break the spell. After a couple minutes of laying in silence, catching their breath, Kirishima pushed himself up and began stripping off all his own clothes. Yokozawa sat up and did likewise. While Yokozawa was still fumbling with the buttons on his shirt, Kirishima helped him with the last couple (his hands were shaking badly), and pulled it off him, then pulled him up by the wrist and jerked him into the bed in the center of the room.
----------------------------
He woke up in the small hours of the morning, not sure he could sit up, or move at all. He mentally tried to catalogue the sequence of events as it had happened after they exited the cab, but he could not permit his mind to go there.
Oh God. What had he done? He would never hear the end of it.
He sighed. He needed a glass of water badly. He hadn't known himself to possess stamina like this, let alone that Kirishima was still capable of it. That boded well for the future.
Shut. Up.
He opened his eyes and tried to sit up, wincing as he did so. He quickly looked down at Kirishima, who was curled up next to him, sleeping peacefully. They hadn't slept in the same bed that often, but Kirishima was a fairly light sleeper, and Yokozawa needed time to collect himself after that. He hoped that Kirishima was as tired as he felt. He stumbled out of bed, noiselessly working his way over to the bathroom. He groped in the dark for a cup (when had the lights gone out? he couldn't remember), then filled it at the sink, downing it gratefully while supporting himself on the counter.
Once he finished, he held the cup in front of his face, debating drinking more. He froze in terror when Kirishima took it from his hands, then filled it at the sink and drank it himself, wordlessly.
Yokozawa hadn't heard him come up, but of course Kirishima had to do everything in the most annoying way possible. Of course he would be awake right now. He backed up a few steps, then went back to the bed, facing the wall and closing his eyes.
A minute later, he felt the bed dip as Kirishima climbed into the other side. He crawled across the huge mattress, and pressed himself against Yokozawa's back, throwing one arm over his chest and cradling him tightly against himself. Yokozawa opened his eyes, but said nothing.
"Takafumi, you make me so happy." Kirishima mumbled low, then nestled his face into the back of Yokozawa's neck.
Yokozawa said nothing, and the two of them fell asleep again.
----------------------------
Yokozawa woke up a few hours later, aching all over, but knowing they were going to have to get up at some point. He slithered slowly out of Kirishima's grip, and began walking around the small room, gathering and sorting their clothes into two piles.
He winced when he saw that Kirishima's shirt was missing the buttons. Luckily, Yokozawa had a jacket that Kirishima could wear over it. The sloppy look suited him, anyway.
As he was picking up the clothes, he noticed a wrapper on the floor by the door. As he squinted, he saw it was a condom wrapper. He looked in disbelief towards the bed. On the nightstand, he saw a few more wrappers for lubricated condoms, along with a small bottle of lube.
A horrible realization began dawning on Yokozawa.
"You brought condoms, you asshole?!" He yelled, rushing over to grab Kirishima and shake him awake.
Kirishima squinted at him lazily, trying to roll over out of his grip. "It's too messy without." He mumbled, and rolled back over, away from Yokozawa.
"I don't give a shit about that! Why did you even have condoms, you sneaky prick?"
Kirishima rolled back over to face Yokozawa, looking marginally more awake. "I go everywhere prepared."
"Bullshit! It's not like you carry condoms and lube around in your pants, and you didn't even have your bag! Why were these in your pocket, you sneaky, manipulative piece of shit?!"
Kirishima sighed dramatically, sitting up and pushing his disheveled hair out of his eyes. "You caught me! I thought we might have sex tonight."
"Uh-huh." Yokozawa's eyes narrowed, his voice getting louder, his blood pressure increasing. "Was that just for today, or have you been carrying these around longer?"
The lopsided grin and teasing light came back into his eyes. "Ah, it seems like you figured me out, Takafumi."
At the use of his first name, Yokozawa snapped "Don't call me that." He wasn't sure how to respond to the rest of it. He was furious. Kirishima was completely unshaken.
"But I thought we were on a first-name basis now! The only thing I heard you say after we came in here was 'Zen, Zen!' Calling my name so sweetly! If only I'd have been able to record it." He pouted a bit at this. "I guess I'll just have to get you to say it again."
"No. Way. In. Hell." Yokozawa ground out through clenched teeth. "You! You... did all this on purpose! You made me ask for it!"
Kirishima's devious smile came back on his face. "Oh, no I didn't. Asking would have been the happy outcome of my plan. You took. I'd abstain from sex for as long as necessary if I could get you to do that to me again." Kirishima rolled onto his back and faced the ceiling, closing his eyes. "I'll treasure that memory for the rest of my life." Before Yokozawa could respond, he rolled back over and propped himself back up on his elbow. "Truly, Takafumi. Thank you."
At this, Yokozawa clammed up. It was so unlike Kirishima, he had no comeback for him.
"As much as I like seeing you pout and squirm and get angry, sometimes it makes me sad that I'm the only one who initiates sex. I know you aren't naturally wired to give in to your base desires like that, but I thought if I waited long enough, you would ask me for sex, or at least broach the subject. Never, in my wildest fantasies, could I have hoped you would bring me to a hotel room, shove me against the door, and have your way with me."
Yokozawa turned bright red, his fists clenched at his sides. "It... It wasn't like that!" He began.
"Oh? Then how was it?"
"You tricked me!"
"Tricked you into having sex with me? Really?"
"..."
"Honestly, I was so disappointed it took you so long to get around to it. How long before you even noticed?"
Yokozawa didn't respond. Kirishima continued on gleefully.
"Well, there was that night that Hiyori was working on the school project, about two weeks ago. I know you missed me then, I heard you bellowing to yourself in your room."
"You knew!"
"Knew what? That you were masturbating? No, I didn't know that until just now." Kirishima looked ecstatic. Yokozawa wanted to crawl into a hole and die.
"Although I did imagine you masturbating that night, because I was doing the same thing in the bathroom, and the thought was... rather appealing. The sound of you being your cute self in the next room really helped me out, too. When I ran into you in the hallway, I almost couldn't help myself. I tried to get you to follow me into my room, and I think I would have broken down. But you didn't take my bait."
Yokozawa's mouth dropped open. He could not believe how shameless this man was, and had no comeback for this. His brain was short-circuiting.
"I really thought you'd work your way around to it when you invited me over to your place. You got so drunk! And you tried so hard. You even tried to get me to remember when we first met. So adorable."
"I'm a grown man! Stop calling me adorable."
"No, can't. Sorry." Here, Kirishima reached up and grabbed Yokozawa's wrists and pulled him back into the bed. He kissed him, long and hard and lovingly.
Yokozawa tried to get mad, but he really, really... couldn't.
Kirishima broke off the kiss, and looked into his eyes. "As much as I'd love to, I don't think I have it in me this morning, sorry. I'm just getting too old."
Yokozawa blushed again, and looked away. "Who said anything about wanting that again! Didn't you get enough last night?"
Kirishima stole a quick kiss, and laughed lightly. "Never." He rolled inelegantly over the top of Yokozawa to stand up and stretch. Yokozawa couldn't help but admire his lithe, naked, beautiful body. Kirishima noticed, and winked at him.
"We should probably get going. I'm starving, Hiyori will be back home in a couple hours, and Sorata probably isn't on speaking terms with any of us right now."
Yokozawa winced. Hiyori would have filled his dish before she went over to her friend's house, but he normally got soft food at night. He was going to be upset when they got home.
Kirishima began pulling on his pants, and Yokozawa followed suit by pulling on his shirt and buttoning it up. As Kirishima pulled his on, he made a show of looking confused at the buttons, then grinned lewdly at Kirishima.
"You know, I'm really looking forward to the two of us showing up in the Marukawa Shoten garage looking worn-out, sleep deprived, unshowered, disheveled, and generally with the just-been-fucked look going on."
Yokozawa paled and froze in the act of buckling his belt. Kirishima laughed. "You can wait out front here, if you want. I'll take a cab back to Marukawa, and come pick you up."
Yokozawa looked gratefully at him, then finished getting dressed. He looked at himself in the mirror. Kirishima was right. His suit was wrinkled, and was distinctive-enough looking that people would remember seeing it the day before, if they happened to be working on a Saturday. His hair stuck up at odd angles. He tried to smooth it down, but it sprang back up, untamed. He looked pale, had dark circles under his eyes, and moved slowly. He might as well have a sign around his neck that said "Rough sex! All night! With this guy, right here! The guy with the ripped-open shirt! We're gay lovers!"
Kirishima, of course, still looked fabulous. His shirt was hanging open, of course, because it had no buttons. Yokozawa's jacket (also a distinctive pinstripe pattern and completely not matching what Kirishima was wearing) was over one of his arms, because he was intentionally flaunting his missing buttons. His shirt and pants were wrinkled, and Yokozawa didn't investigate the slight stain on his pants too closely. His hair was artfully tousled, his face looked half-asleep, and he had a five o'clock shadow that was ridiculously flattering. Not only did he look like he was up all night long doing what he pleased, he looked like he was getting ready for more later. Yokozawa hoped not, as he was in enough pain as it was. But he had to admit, Kirishima made it look tempting.
He turned to look at the wreckage of the bed, but looked away again. He didn't want to know, didn't want to think about that. He consoled himself with the thought that the staff wouldn't know who he was, and would never meet him.
Yokozawa sighed, resigning himself to the task. "I look more presentable than you do. Why don't I go back and get the car, while you wait here in the room?"
Kirishima arched an eyebrow. "In the room? Why wouldn't I go out to get some fresh air?"
'Because you look too good like that' refused to pass through Yokozawa's lips. Instead he said "I look less ridiculous than you do. I'll just do it."
Kirishima smiled in that irritating way that let him know he saw right through him. Yokozawa sighed. "All right. Let's trade shirts. I'll wear yours with a tie under my jacket, and it will look fine. Why don't you get us coffee or something while I'm getting the car?"
"Okay, but only if you take my shirt off and put your shirt on me." Kirishima agreed quickly.
"Can't you act like an adult once in your life?" Yokozawa snapped back, undoing the buttons on his shirt again and pulling the tail out of his pants.
"No, I'm afraid you bring out the horny teenage boy in me. Nothing I can do about it." Kirishima shrugged and presented his back, as if to let Yokozawa pull his shirt off.
They would be here all morning if they argued, so Yokozawa merely slipped the shirt off and his shirt on, pulling Kirishima's shirt onto his arms and turning away.
"Oh, no protest! My wild bear is becoming tame. Is another night like this mine for the asking?"
"No fucking way." Yokozawa snapped back, turning around and snatching his jacket from Kirishima, then trying to make himself as presentable as possible.
"No-ooo..." Kirishima teased. "All I have to do is not have sex with you again. I told you before, I'll abstain as long as it takes for another night like this." At this, he leaned over and kissed Yokozawa on his rough, unshaven cheek.
"You look almost too good to let out like that. You have no idea how attractive you really are." Kirishima whispered in his ear for good measure.
Yokozawa stormed out and slammed the door, and ran his hands through his hair.
That fucker was right, of course. He would do it again if the other option was not having sex with Kirishima.
He was in deep.