The noodle bar is a small one located a few minutes' walk from the bottom of the hill; Shinichi has been past it many times but never been inside. There aren't many other people in there – perhaps two or three lone businessmen getting food after work, as well as the owner of the place – but still, Shinichi is glad when Kouya chooses a table which is away from anyone else. There's no knowing what his tutor will choose to talk about. He takes a seat across from Kouya as the man picks up a menu and starts looking at the choices.
“You should eat something, Shinichi. Your mother might not care about you skipping meals, but I do.”
Shinichi is briefly startled, although he does his best to cover it. Yes, he's been deliberately avoiding food here and there, but he hasn't expected anyone to notice, least of all his tutor. His parents never seem to pay attention to when he's eating, or how much – all they care about is how well he's doing with his studies and his achievements in school, especially when it comes to sports. How could he possibly risk eating too much and getting fat when it could mean losing his edge? Annoyed by Kouya's concern, Shinichi instantly goes on the defensive.
“Why should you care what I eat? You're my tutor, not my---”
“Not your boyfriend, I know - we've already been over this. Even if this is like a date. You did say something about me taking you out for dinner, didn't you?” Kouya smirks. “But I'm going to need you to keep your strength up when you're with me, and that's not going to happen if you're not eating properly.”
“It's not a date!” Shinichi blushes a deep red and glances about, worried that somebody might have overheard Kouya's comment and correctly interpreted it for what it is, but thankfully nobody seems to have heard. “And I am not going to eat just because you tell me to! What am I, some kind of animal you can fatten up? You want me to start failing in my sports classes?”
“So you're not denying that things are going to happen between us again.” Kouya sounds smug, triumphant.
“That's not what I said!” Shinichi splutters, his hands balling into fists.
“You didn't not say it, either.” His tutor grins. “After all, if you're so worried about staying in shape – which I don't think you actually are - I can definitely give you some exercise.”
“I am never going to let you do anything like that to me, ever again!” Shinichi hisses, although even he cannot hear the conviction in his voice. “And what do you mean I don't care about staying in shape? You don't think those sports trophies mean anything to me? You don't think I care about being the highest achiever in my Physical Ed class?”
Kouya's grin is as smug as ever, and Shinichi has to restrain himself from trying to punch him from across the table. Why can the man see so easily through his lies and denials? He's been struggling all day to focus in his lessons because his mind has kept replaying the images from last night over and over in his head, and he's not even sure whether it was a reminder to never let it happen again or whether it was the subconscious desire for another round. It certainly wasn't entirely unpleasant. As for what Kouya has to say about his sporting achievements... no. Of course he cares about them. Doesn't he?
“Mother might know about you already.” Grasping at straws to try and regain control of the conversation, Shinichi throws out any information that he can in an attempt to throw Kouya off-balance. He leans in close, a conspiratorial tone in his voice; even though the truth of it embarrasses him, it's the best plan of attack he has right now. “She changed the bedsheets. She's bound to have noticed something.”
“Oh, I already knew that,” Kouya shrugs nonchalantly, “And she didn't notice anything at all. They weren't any more dirty than you make them on your own.”
“How can you know that?” Shinichi hisses softly, his cheeks burning an even brighter shade of red. It's possible, of course; Kouya was at his house before he arrived home, so it's entirely possible that he saw her doing it, although that would be unusual. Kayoko is the kind of mother who likes to live in an immaculate house but would never allow any guests to actually see her doing the housework.
“I'm paid to know things, Shinichi-kun. That's why I'm the tutor and you're the student.” Kouya gives another of his winning smiles – the ones which make Shinichi want to punch the man – and takes a sip of his drink. “Talking of which, I do hope you were actually studying in your room tonight and not wasting any more time looking me up on the internet...?”
It's at that moment that the owner walks over to take their order, and to be honest, Shinichi is glad for the interruption. He genuinely was studying earlier, but he finds himself reluctant to admit that to Kouya, perhaps because he doesn't want to give the older man the satisfaction of telling him that he was focusing on his studies. That would feel too much like his tutor was winning. He continues to scowl at Kouya even as he places his order, and to keep the man quiet Shinichi orders himself a small plate of dumplings even though he still doesn't feel that hungry... not for food, anyway. Being with his tutor gives him a different kind of appetite altogether, one which he keeps on trying to deny.
“So you are eating something. Good.” Kouya smiles as the bar owner brings over their drinks – two sodas – and takes a long sip.
“Only to shut you up,” Shinichi growls, poking at his soda with a straw.
“I can think of another way you could do that.” The older man feigns an innocent look and closes his mouth around the straw on his own drink, staring up at Shinichi with wide eyes and murmuring softly before pulling away again. “Can you?”
Why does Kouya always seem to know what Shinichi is thinking? Yes, of course he's thought about Kouya doing that to him. At least, he has since yesterday, and he hates himself for it, even as he tries to deny the truth. It's not Kouya he wants, he tells himself! It's his girlfriend, Asuka – it's her he wants, her mouth around him, kissing and licking, touching and stroking... but every time he tries to imagine her pleasuring him, his mind conjures up images of his tutor between his legs, his masterful tongue moving in perfect circles around his length, his fingers---
“No.” Shinichi picks up his drink and starts to blow bubbles into it, trying to mask his embarrassment, but of course Kouya notices anyway.
“Shinichi-kun...” The older man chuckles and fixes his student with a patronising look. “Are you telling me that you can't imagine me with my mouth full? Is there really nothing like that in those DVDs you keep hidden at the back of your bookcase?”
Shinichi almost spits out his soda.
“What? I don't---”
“Yes you do. Don't lie. I know they're in there.” Kouya laughs, and leans over to pat Shinichi on the arm. “There's no shame in having these urges, you know. There's no shame in acting on them either, as long as nobody is getting hurt. You're a hot-blooded young man, after all. You really should know better than to lie to me by now though; I'm disappointed in you.”
The tutor sighs and shakes his head, and Shinichi is on the verge of saying something in response, but it's then that their food arrives and Kouya seems to perk up immediately although it's most likely that his disappointment was faked in the first place.
“Thank you for the food!” Kouya claps his hands together and picks up his chopsticks, wasting no time in digging into his food, a sizeable bowl of ramen. Shinichi, however, merely pokes at his dumplings half-heartedly, glancing with disgust at the way his tutor is shovelling noodles down his throat as if there were no tomorrow.
“Didn't you only eat dinner a few hours ago?” he hisses, narrowing his eyes at the older man. “My dinner?”
“Your mother is a very good cook,” Kouya murmurs through a mouthful of food, grabbing a napkin and wiping at his chin. “Besides, you weren't going to eat it.”
“I could have taken it for lunch tomorrow...”
“And thrown it away at school.” He puts down his chopsticks and sighs, folding his arms on the table. “You're not eating now, either. Ah, Shinichi, no wonder you get so irritable all the time!”
“No I don't!” His tutor's only reply to that is another smile, causing Shinichi to continue. “I don't get irritable because I don't eat my lunch. Of course I eat – I have to eat, otherwise I'd die, so stop being so stupid! And you've seen me eating dinner, you know I don't skip it every night!”
“So you're admitting that you do get irritable.” Seemingly satisfied, Kouya picks up his chopsticks and starts to eat again, leaving Shinichi fuming on the other side of the table.
“I don't know why I even agreed to come here with you,” the student growls, practically throwing his chopsticks down onto his plate with a loud clatter. “All you've done is act smug and superior and try and make fun of me, implied that I have some kind of eating problem, deliberately wound me up---”
“I've bought you dinner and tried to have a conversation with you, Shinichi.” Kouya's voice becomes quiet and calm, his expression gentle yet stern. “You're the one who's getting angry. You're the one who's having trouble dealing with whatever it is you're going through.”
“I'm not going through anything!” Shinichi doesn't mean for it to come out as a shout, but he says this so loudly that he manages to draw the attention of the few other patrons there anyway. He gives an exasperated snarl and lowers his voice before continuing. “If there is anything I'm going through at the moment, it's trying to focus on my studies and carry on being a successful student when all my tutor keeps doing is harassing my family and making indecent advances on me---”
Now Kouya starts laughing, again drawing the attention of the other people in the establishment, but unlike Shinichi he doesn't seem to care.
“Am I making indecent advances now, Shinichi?” he asks, an infuriatingly patronising expression on his face. “Am I trying to touch you under the table? Did I lure you here with the intention of snaring you and taking you back to my place later? The truth is, you were hoping that's what I'd do, because you're still too scared to admit to yourself how much you want it.”
He gives a longing sigh, his laughter finally subsiding.
“I suppose it can't be helped; it's your age, no? Not to mention the fact you're so proud and stubborn.” He leans forward, using his chopsticks to point at Shinichi. “I brought you here tonight because I wanted to make sure you actually ate something. Whatever you want to happen after that is entirely up to you.”
And with that said, Kouya goes back to eating his food as casually as if the conversation had never happened.
Shinichi, however, is fuming. Absolutely fuming, surely as Kouya knew he would be. He glares at the older man who appears to remain oblivious, too focused on eating his food to even notice the way his student is looking at him. So Kouya wants him to eat, does he? Surely he knows that the more he tells Shinichi to do something, the less likely he is to actually do it.
“I'm finished here.” He puts down his chopsticks and pushes back his chair, getting ready to stand up. “I'm going home.”
“Hmm?” Kouya looks over at him, noodles hanging from his mouth.
“I've had enough of putting up with you. I'm going.”
“You are?” The tutor quickly swallows down what he's eating then wipes at his chin, and – perhaps to Shinichi's surprise – gives a wide grin, reaching over to pull the plate of Shinichi's dumplings towards himself. “Good! That means I won!”
“What do you mean, you won?” Shinichi hesitates, halfway to getting to his feet.
“I won the bet.” Kouya is already lifting one of the dumplings to his lips. “I made a bet with Shigeyuki that I wouldn't be able to get you to do what I wanted today. Let's face it, it was a pretty sure outcome.”
“You... you...” If Shinichi thought he was angry before, he realises now that he is absolutely livid. “You did what?”
“I just told you.” Kouya pops the dumpling into his mouth and makes a disgustingly appreciative noise. “Ah, this is delicious...”
“You bastard!” Shinichi leans over and hisses. “Why do you keep messing with Shugeyuki like that? What did you make him promise to do?”
“Oh, nothing much,” the older man replies through a mouthful of food. “I don't have the same interest in him as I do in you, Shinichi-kun. Even I have limits. But now that I've won, he's going to have to do whatever I tell him for the next week...”
“No, he isn't.” And before Kouya can do anything, Shinichi is grabbing the plate of dumplings back from him and shovelling them into his mouth as quickly as he can. His tutor only stares as he eats them one by one, until all that's left is a clear plate which he slams down onto the table in triumph. "Done."
“Awww, I was going to eat those!” Kouya seems disappointed, and he pulls a face; but then he gives a resigned sigh. “Very well, then. You win. Shigeyuki wins. Fine.”
The tutor throws up his hands in theatrical exasperation, and were Shinichi not so self-absorbed and congratulating himself on thwarting Kouya's success then he might think to ask what the man's end of the deal might be – but he he doesn't. Instead he gets to sit there smugly and finish his soda as Kouya polishes off what's left of his ramen; once that's done, he pays for their meal and the two of them leave the noodle bar, although Kouya stops once they're outside. It's dark now, and getting colder.
“So, then.” The older man pauses and turns to look at Shinichi with a curious expression. “I've treated you to dinner. I've spent time talking with you. Isn't that what lovers do?”
“You're not my lover!”
“If you say so.” Kouya shrugs. “But you don't have to go home alone if you don't want to.”
“What's that supposed to mean?”
“What do you think it means?” Kouya smiles, and claps a hand down on Shinichi's shoulder. “I'm going to make you an offer which I don't make to many of my students. You can come back to mine tonight, if you want to.”
Shinichi freezes, his shoulders tensing up beneath Kouya's touch.
“I thought you said you weren't making indecent advances on me. That you weren't trying to lure me back to your place.” He gives an angry snarl and forcibly shoves Kouya's hand away from his shoulder. “And now you're doing exactly that!”
“Who said I was planning on doing anything indecent?” His tutor looks hurt – or at least pretends to, adopting what can only be described as a look of mock innocence. “You're the one who seems to think there's something wrong with inviting you back for a friendly chat.”
“You just want to get me on my own so you can have your way with me again! There's nothing proper about a teacher inviting a student back to his house!”
“There's nothing proper about stealing books or threatening other students with a knife, but you don't seem to have a problem with that.” The tutor's mouth curves upwards into a smirk. “The offer's there, if you want it. I would have thought you'd jump at the chance to see where I live, but apparently I was wrong.”
Kouya's last comment does present Shinichi with something of a dilemma, as well as his comments about his shoplifting and threats making him even more irate than he already is. If he accepts the man's offer there's a chance he could find out where he lives, not to mention how – although there's also every chance that it wouldn't actually be his home at all, but another set-up, just as Kouya has managed to lie to him and trick him before. There's also the possibility that his tutor could make advances on him when they are alone, and the thought scares him... not because he fears the man's touch, but because he might not be able to say no.
“I'm going home.” Shinichi takes a step away from Kouya, as if the physical distance could somehow help with the mental torment he's feeling. “I'm not going to give you the satisfaction of pretending you live somewhere that you don't, or having your way with me again. You're disgusting.”
“Your choice, Shinichi-kun.” Kouya just grins, apparently not bothered at all by his student's insults. “See you tomorrow.”
And with that he just strolls off down the street, arms swinging, leaving Shinichi standing on his own.
Shinichi is still angry when he gets home, despite the walk up the hill which gives him the chance to think over certain things. Even so, he tries to enter the house quietly, closing the front door carefully behind him and sliding off his shoes, not sure who will still be up; the lights are on when he walks in, however, and his mother sits alone in front of the television nursing a glass of wine.
“I'm home, Mother.” He bows and walks towards the stairs, by this point just wanting to be away from Kouya, away from his family, away from people, away from everything; if she does notice him she doesn't acknowledge it, too engrossed in whatever she is watching, or perhaps lost entirely in her own thoughts. “Goodnight.”
Despite the urge to slam his bedroom door closed behind him, Shinichi manages to shut it quietly before turning on the lights and moving to his bed where he sits down heavily and puts his head in his hands. Should he have gone with Kouya after all? There was a part of him which wanted to, but he would have resented himself for giving in so easily... although he resents himself now for even considering it. Not only that, but there's a rising feeling of jealousy which clings tightly on to him no matter how hard he tries to shrug it off. What if Kouya has found somebody else to spend the night with? What if, even now, his tutor is touching and kissing another younger man, stroking at him, caressing him, laying him down in his bed, and...
No. I don't care if he's doing that!
But deep down, he knows that he does. For all that he hates Kouya he remains gripped by the urge to please him, to earn his praise, and what better way to do that then to learn how to pleasure him in bed? His secret admiration for his tutor is matched only by the hatred he feels towards him for second-guessing him and always being able to see right through him...
I don't need to please him. I don't need his approval.
He does his best to push the image of Kouya's face from his mind, pulling off his shirt and trousers, changing into the t-shirt and shorts he sleeps in and collapsing onto the bed.
What if he had made advances on me? Would I have turned them down?
As he tries to work out the answer, a series of mental images come to him unbidden - the memory of Kouya kneeling behind him, the man's hands touching at his bare skin; the feeling of his tutor entering his body, the sharp pain of it a delicious counterpoint to the intense pleasure which followed; the orgasm he had experienced, the most powerful and thrilling one he had ever had, Kouya's fingers bringing him to climax as their bodies moved together...
Before he realises what he's doing , one of his hands is already sliding down within the waistband of his shorts, touching at the hardness growing there, stroking gently at himself as his arousal becomes firm. He gives a soft, low moan, pushing against his own fingers, and then with a growl of annoyance he pulls off his shorts again so they're not restricting his movements; after a moment's thought he takes off his shirt again as well, letting the air cool his skin. Damn it, he's hot and bothered and frustrated, and Kouya isn't even here!
He tries to picture Asuka, his girlfriend, tries to remember what it feels like to kiss her, tries to imagine how it would feel to have her hands sliding down to his waist, her fingers closing about his length to bring him to his full excitement... but each time he does so, all he can see is Kouya. It's Kouya's hands he remembers on his body, Kouya's fingers gripping his arousal and stroking at him firmly, Kouya's voice murmuring his name as he thrusts inside him, again and again...
“Sensei...” he breathes, closing his eyes and finally allowing himself to submit to his memories, to the recollection of how it felt to give in to his tutor's advances. “Sensei...”
With one hand he continues to touch and stroke at his length, his fingers sliding from base to tip, his thumb flicking over the hot, smooth head to swipe away a trickle of pre-cum; his other hand brushes against his buttocks, recalling how Kouya touched him there, his fingers slipping between them to stroke delicately at the sensitive skin of his entrance. He moans softly, a shudder running through him as he reminds himself how it felt to have his tutor pressing against him there... pressing hard against him before sliding inside him, filling him, taking him...
“Sensei...” he whispers again, imagining the other man's body moving against his own, remembering the touch of his tutor's fingers gripping him tightly, bucking upwards into his own hand. He dares to think about what it would be like if there were more intimacy between them... if he could call the other man by his first name... if they ever reached the point where there was such closeness... “Kouya...”
And with the realisation that he would even consider such intimacy comes another wave of self-hatred, his resentment burning brightly within him even as he continues to touch and stroke at himself, even as he wishes it were Kouya touching him like this – because yes, he does wish Kouya were here to give him his release, even though he would never admit it. The man has proven himself to be as skilled with his hands and body as he is with trickery and deception, and Shinichi reluctantly admires him for it.
“Kouya-Sensei...” he gasps, his hands moving faster over himself, his fingers pumping furiously up and down over his hardness, his hips beginning to thrust frantically into his hand; he's already so close now, his anger mingling with his desire, making him snarl and growl softly to himself as he works closer and closer to his release.
His back arches as he reaches his climax, his head falling back, his eyes closed; he gasps and moans as he releases himself over his chest, a hot, sticky mess which clings to his bare skin. He continues to work at himself as his body shudders and trembles, milking every last drop, until he is utterly spent.
Then his fingers slide one last time over the head of his length, gathering the moisture there, and he raises his hand to his mouth to lick the salty taste from his skin, moaning as he does so. Before he can push the thought from his mind he finds himself wondering what Kouya would taste like, and to his shame the mere idea of it sends a shiver of excitement through him. With a growl of irritation he finishes licking his fingers clean and reaches for a tissue, wiping away the creamy stains from his chest and throwing the used tissues into the bin. That done he slides under the covers, not even bothering to put his clothes back on. It's a warm night, after all, and it's not like anyone else really comes into his room anyway.
As he lies there suffused in the warm afterglow of his orgasm, Shinichi can't help but wonder how he ended up like this. When did he start craving his tutor's attention, his touch? When did he start to think of the man as more than just a teacher? Whilst it's true that he found the man fascinating shortly after his arrival – his manipulation of Shigeyuki has been masterful, his methods causing Shinichi to be almost envious – it can't be true that he admired him even then, surely? If anything it's his resentment of Kouya which is fuelling him at the moment, making him more determined than ever to prove that his tutor is a fraud intent on destroying his family... and yet, he's just touched himself whilst wishing Kouya were there to do it for him.
With an exasperated sigh of frustration, Shinichi turns over and tries to go to sleep.