My love for Fuma had never been easy to begin with.
I had noticed my feelings for him back in New York. Shori had already been asleep when Fuma had knocked on the door of my hotel room, making me sneak out with him to grab a bite and just stroll through New York’s streets at night. It was then, in this city I adored, that I realized how much I actually adored the person next to me, as well.
It took me about a year, though, to realize that maybe, the impossible could actually happen; that there may be really a chance that Fuma might return my feelings. Funny enough, it was in Dubai, of all places, because it seemed like in Tokyo, I was too busy to have huge revelations of any kind. It was not even a special moment or anything, it was simply the way he suddenly looked at me, smiled or reached out to me, that I wondered if maybe, maybe, I was not so alone with my feelings, after all.
We played this game for a few more months afterwards. Shy smiles, little intense gazes when we thought no one was looking, and occasionally, little touches that seemed like nothing to others and were a huge deal for us. It continued all the way until the Johnny’s Countdown, and even then, I had not counted on it when Fuma suddenly grabbed my hand after we had left the stage, pulling me towards him.
When his lips met mine, it was firm and breathtaking, as if he had not a single doubt left about this, and it was all I could do to wrap my arms around his waist and hold onto him, melting into the way he kissed me as if he was marking me as his.
“Let’s just stop?” Fuma asked quietly when he pulled away, but not going far at all, keeping so close that I could still feel his breath on my lips. “I don’t want to play this game anymore. I want to be with you.”
My answering smile seemed to be enough for him, because instead of waiting for a verbal kind of answer, he leaned in for another kiss.
When I had thought that with this, all of our problems just disappeared and we would have our blissful happy ever after, I had been terribly wrong. Relationship or not, we were still idols and our schedules were packed, and in our stressful lifes between career and university, we did not have much time left for each other. And that included especially physical contact.
There had been a few rushed make out sessions between jobs in half hidden places, which had me tingly from both Fuma’s touches and the danger of being walked in on, but were not nearly enough to satisfy my need for intimacy.
So when Valentine’s Day dragged closer, I figured that maybe, this was the perfect opportunity to do something about this. The timing was a little off, as I had to admit – Fuma was busy with Kamen Teacher promos, our album release was around the corner and really, our schedule was close to exploding, but I still had a favor in with our manager, and I had no qualms to pull it on him to get us two days off.
I had spent weeks planning this thing out – Fuma loved the beach, and even if it was February and we could not really do any marine sports or anything, JMK had proven to me that beaches were just generally romantic. Also, the winter months had the advantage that I could still grab a beach house for us to stay in, even at short notice on an important night as Valentine’s Day. I even found a beautiful restaurant close by that still had a table available for us, and even if I knew Fuma was not really the romantic type of guy, I hoped that he would appreciate some alone time with me.
Also, a night away allowed us to have the intimacy I had wanted to have ever since Fuma first kissed me. It meant no interruptions by band mates or family, enough privacy to touch without all the sparkly costumes in the way, and to finally take our relationship the necessary step further.
I tried to not let it get to me when Fuma seemed everything but thrilled at the idea of me kidnapping him for an overnight trip.
“I have work to do, Kento” he groaned when I parked in front of the Kikuchi's house, ready to get upstairs and pack his things myself if I had to. “There is so much-“
“I cleared our schedules” I informed him, smiling brightly as he raised an eyebrow. “No work until Sunday morning. We have two complete days off.”
“Well, that’s nice and all” Fuma murmured with a frown. “But if I really have a day or two off, I could study for this exam in a few weeks, and catch up on sleep and-“
“Enough with your complaints” I cut him off. “You have 5 minutes to grab your stuff and get into the car, or I will make you.”
Fuma looked at me pointedly, as if he wanted to see me try, but then Mimu attacked me with a loud squeal, and Fuma just rolled his eyes as he slowly made his way upstairs, turning up a few minutes later with his bag shouldered, stopping for a moment to disentangle both his younger siblings from me before shoving me out of the door and towards the car.
“This better be good, Kento” he groaned as he threw his bag into the trunk. “Or I will tell Yamada-Kun the most embarrassing stories about you. You know I have a repertoire.”
Fuma remained moody and sarcastic the entire ride out of Tokyo, zapping through the radio programs and mumbling angry comments at every second song that came up. I tried to indulge him in a conversation every once in a while, but his answers were only one-syllable hums, and after a while, he just pulled out his phone, typing away on it without paying me much mind.
He only looked up when we reached the beach, frowning at the scenery in front of him, and I tentatively hoped that finally, his spirits would lift a little.
“I rented a beach house” I told him with a smile.
“It is winter, Kento!” he pointed out, looking at me like I had gone insane. “What are we supposed to do at a beach in winter?!”
“You like beaches” I said in a small voice. “Plus, they are always nice. We can take walks and-“
“Do you want to catch a cold?!” he demanded. “Our manager will kill us when we return from this trip with stuffed noses and croaked voices!”
“It will be fine!” I argued, trying to ignore the way the clouds that rolled over from the horizon seemed dark and dangerous. “Don’t be so negative all the time and just relax!”
Fuma made an annoyed noise, and I tried to gulp down the way my chest seemed to tighten at his obvious dissatisfaction with my plans. He would cheer up as the day dragged on, I was sure of it. He never stayed in a bad mood for long when it was just the two of us.
When we finally arrived, we went to get the key from the reception, and the women in her forties behind the counter recognized us, calling her 12 year-old-daughter, who almost burst into tears asking us for a photo and an autograph.
“Great, this will be in the newspapers next week” Fuma groaned as we made our way to our beach house. “The fans will have a field day. ‘FumaKen on a Valentine’s Date’. You will explain to the management!”
“They won’t broadcast it” I said soothingly, sounding more sure than I felt. “I told you, just relax!”
“I will show you ‘relax’” Fuma murmured, snatching the keys out of my hands as we reached the door, unlocking it.
The beach house was as nice as it had been in the pictures on the internet, with a huge dining kitchen and a fluffy couch to watch TV on, and the sight from the bedroom window directly onto the beach.
I slipped the groceries I had brought for tomorrow’s breakfast in bed into the fridge when Fuma wasn’t looking, and wasted no time asking him for a walk. Fuma was still grumbling about not having brought clothes warm enough for that (“Who the heck would go to the beach in fucking February, what is wrong with you?!”), but I just smiled it away as I dragged him outside.
As we made our way through the muddy sand on the beach, though, the cold wind blowing into our faces, I realized not only that the idea was not actually as romantic and I had envisioned it, but also that Fuma’s mood, if possible, was getting even worse.
“I am cold, Kento!” he whined, his hands deeply buried in his pockets. “And I am thirsty! Did you bring water?”
“No” I said quietly, feeling even worse when Fuma cursed.
“Really, you were the one planning this crappy trip and you didn't even think of bringing a bottle of water!” he called. “You are terrible at this. I will never go along with any of your ideas again.”
I kept quiet, trying to gulp against the way his words stung, but then, a drop of water hit my face. I did just have enough time to blink before I heard thunder rolling, and all of a sudden, we found ourselves in the downpour of our lives.
Fuma cursed as he grabbed my hand, dragging me after him as he sprinted down the beach, back towards our house. When we arrived there a few minutes later, we were soaked to the skin, and Fuma hit me in the back of my head as soon as the door fell closed behind us.
“You are really trying to kill me, aren’t you?!” he called, toeing his wet and muddy sneakers off with a sound of distaste.
“I am sorry” I said weakly. “I did not count on the weather to become like this. I checked the weather forecast and they said nothing about a storm.”
Fuma only rolled his eyes as he shrugged out of his jacket, shoving it at me.
“I will take a hot shower” he announced. “Put these somewhere to dry will you!”
It was all I could do to nod as I watched him disappear into the bathroom. I stared at the closed door miserably for a moment, wondering if it had been a bad idea to drag Fuma out here, after all, before I shuddered from the coldness, deciding to get out of the wet clothes quickly as well.
I put both my jacket and Fuma’s into the drier after I was done, drying my hair with a towel before deciding to make use of the opportunity to prepare some more things I had planned for later tonight. After all, now that the beginning of the day had gone so terribly wrong, I had to work even harder to make sure the rest of it went smoothly.
So I quickly grabbed my bag from where Fuma and I had dumped our luggage in the corridor, getting into the bedroom, closing the door behind me quietly. I sat the bag down softly, opening it to get out all the candles I had brought, looking around the room for places to best put them to.
When I heard Fuma cutting the spray of the shower about 10 minutes later, I was mostly done, looking about the room anxiously: the (not yet lit) candles were spread all over the place, and fake rose petals were decorating the areas I had placed them. Other than that, I had taken down the painting from the wall, hiding it in the cupboard to place a huge poster in its place.
I had stolen the idea from JMK, placing photos of Fuma and me all over the poster and scribbling little messages all over it. I looked at it nervously for a moment, wondering if I had gone overboard, but then I heard Fuma unlock the bathroom door, so I quickly left the room, sure to pull the door closed behind me.
Fuma was sitting on the couch when I found him, cuddled in one of the blankets and zapping through the TV channels, not paying me much attention as I sat down next to him.
“Shall I make us a tea?” I asked finally, but Fuma just looked up at me, eyeing my still damp hair.
“You will do nothing before you haven’t showered as well” he pointed out, kicking my thigh from where he was crouched on the other end of the couch. “I am not explaining to the management why I bring you home sick. Go.”
I was about to protest, but Fuma just kicked me a little harder when I opened my mouth, so I gave in with a sigh, disappearing into the bathroom as well.
When I got out of the bathroom again, Fuma was comfortably watching some variety show, and I was almost scared to address that I had made a dinner reservation. Predictably, Fuma whined a little, suggesting to just order take out and stay in the house (“If you have not noticed, there is a freaking typhoon outside!”), but when I lured him with the menu and the promise that I would pay for everything, he finally caved and unwillingly took his jacket I had gotten from the drier.
The way to the restaurant was not long, thankfully, and Fuma was smiling when we entered the yakiniku store, obviously softened by the prospect of food. It made me feel a little more at ease, and I smiled as well as I told the waiter my name and that I had reserved a table.
I chatted quietly with Fuma as we waited for him to bring us to our table, but when he finally spoke up, he shocked me by saying: “I am sorry, Nakajima-San, but we have no reservation put down for you.”
“What?!” I asked, a little panicked, and Fuma raised an eyebrow at me. “That can’t be. I called last week. Please check again!”
“The thing is” the waiter said slowly. “We have a reservation for two other Nakajimas, so it seems like they got mixed up. We are very sorry, but we are fully reserved today. We can’t offer you a table.”
“You have to be kidding me!” I murmured, shaking my head. “I called at all other restaurants around, no one had a free table to offer!”
“It’s Valentine’s Day” the waiter nodded, bowing in apology. “I am very sorry! We will give you a gift coupon as an apology! Please come by another night!”
“We will leave tomorrow” I groaned, throwing a look at Fuma, alarmed when I saw his jaw had set again in annoyance. “Please, is there nothing you can do?”
“I am really sorry!” the waiter apologized again, and I sighed, wondering why the world hated me so much. I had put so much effort into planning this trip and now everything was going so terribly wrong. What had I done to make fate hate me so much?!
“It’s okay” I still said when we left the restaurant and Fuma hissed at the cold wind. “There was a super market around the corner. I will get some things and then I will cook for us.”
“You will cook?!” Fuma scoffed, rolling his eyes. “You will blow up the kitchen. You should let me do it.”
“No, I invited you out!” I protested. “I can cook, too! It will be fine, you will see!”
Fuma snorted, but did not say anything more as I steered us through the supermarket, collecting whatever I would need for hamburgers.
“I am good at making hamburgers” I said with a smile. “You will be surprised.”
Fuma only hummed non-committaly, moodily dropping a bar of chocolate into our basket, so I left him to it.
He did not speak the entire time I spent cooking either, just watching some drama, and I desperately tried to convince myself that the night was not ruined yet. That I could still turn the mood around. If only everything would work out now, for once.
When I finally called Fuma for dinner, his face was skeptical as he eyed the food I served him. I had to laugh a little as he poked it with his chopstick once as if it was going to explode at the touch before sitting down with the face of a martyr.
“It isn’t poisoned” I ensured him, and Fuma only raised his eyebrow before picking up the meatball with his chopsticks.
“Itadakimasu” he murmured, taking a tentative bite. I scanned his face, waiting for the glow to spread over his face whenever he got any kind of food.
I was devastated to see him cough and drop the food to the plate again, almost knocking over his glass of water as he reached for it.
“What?!” I asked defensively. “I did it like always! How can it-“
I quickly picked up my own meatball as Fuma was still coughing, taking a bite, making a face as the taste spread over my tongue.
“Why is it sweet?!” I demanded.
“How do I know?!” Fuma called. “What did you do?! I knew I shouldn’t have let you cook!”
“I don’t know” I whimpered, standing up to check the ingredients that were still spread over the counter. “I really don’t understand how-“
My eyes fell on the salt, and I hesitantly picked it up, pouring some in my hand and tasting it.
“This is sugar” I whispered, closing my eyes. “Why do they have sugar here, and not salt?! And why is it not labeled?! I just assumed…”
“I will go order pizza” Fuma only groaned, and I did not dare to turn to him as he left the room to find his phone. I took deep breaths in and out, trying to gulp the unreasonable wave of tears down.
I had put so much effort in all of this. Why did everything have to go wrong?
“It will take over an hour for them to deliver” Fuma groaned finally, making me look over my shoulder to where he was flopping down on the couch again. “Valentine’s Day seriously sucks.”
I hesitated for a moment before moving over to him slowly, sitting down at the edge of the couch as well.
“I am sorry” I said quietly, but Fuma only hummed. “I brought this American movie you wanted to watch. The one I told you about. How about we watch it while we wait?”
“Too tired” Fuma murmured. “I can’t concentrate on subtitles right now.”
“Oh” I only said, throwing a look at Fuma’s face, but he only stared at the TV, not even looking up at me.
I felt pathetically small here, on this couch next to my boyfriend, and the feeling that he couldn’t care less that I was here with him, even probably wished me gone, made a knot build in my throat, and I quickly got up before my emotions showed on my face.
“I will wash the dishes” I murmured, not waiting for Fuma’s answer as I made my way back into the kitchen.
My hands were shaking a little as I scrubbed the pan, trying hard to let out my emotions physically so that Fuma would not notice.
I did barely register it when Fuma turned off the TV and called: “I will take a nap until dinner is here.” I only blinked when I heard the bedroom door opening and closing, and froze, my breath catching as I remembered what the bedroom actually looked like right now.
“NO!” I breathed, dropping the pan into the water and hurrying towards the bedroom, pushing open the door – to find Fuma sleeping soundly, face pushed into the pillow.
I just stared at him, my heart racing as the realization sunk in – he had not even noticed the decoration.
Like everything else I had tried to do today.
The tears crawled up in my eyes before I knew it, and I bit my lip, trying hard to make no noise as I tip toed through the dark, trying to collect all the decorations again.
Maybe it was better if Fuma did not see them, after all. This had been a stupid idea of mine.
I grabbed a couple of candles and looked for my bag, a little whimper escaping my lips when one of the candles hit the floor, making a loud noise through the darkness.
I bit my lip, closing my eyes when Fuma moved on the bed.
“Kento” he murmured sleepily, and my heart stopped for a moment, because shit. “Turn down the TV, will you, I want to sleep.”
I suppressed another sob, quickly shoving the candles into my bag, making enough noise to make him look up.
“Kento, what the fuck, I… Kento?”
I took a shaky breath and just got up, fleeing the room. I heard Fuma call after me, and then there was a loud crashing noise and a curse, indicating that he had fallen out of bed. It gave me enough time to slip into my shoes, but not enough to grab my jacket as I fled through the front door and into the rain.
I was already around the street corner when I heard Fuma call my name, but I did not hold in to wait for him.
I made my way towards the beach, walking aimlessly as the rain mixed with my tears, and my clothes and hair soaked from the rain. I walked and walked until I could barely see the beach houses at the horizon and plopped down on the wet sand, squishing my face into my knees as I tried to control my sobbing.
Fuma and I had always been very different personalities, I reminded myself. Where I was clingy, he loved his freedom. Where he was social, I was awkward. Where I pondered, he acted. It had always been like that, but until now, it had never been a problem. We had balanced out.
But when it came to this relationship, there were differences that I was not quite sure we could surpass. I was someone to put an effort into pleasing my partner, to show how invested I was and to get insecure when I did not get a similar response.
Fuma, on the other hand, seemed annoyed by these kind of things. Besides the physical contact every now and then, technically, nothing had changed between us ever since we became a couple. We still acted like friends, basically. None of our friends could even tell what was up with us, and we had not told them, either.
Also, Fuma had never really told me that he liked me. He squirmed at every indication of romantic tendencies, and when I initiated them, like now, he merely seemed to be annoyed.
This was me, though. This, candles and roses and little silly gestures, this was who I was, and if he was annoyed by all of it, he was annoyed by me, in the long run.
Maybe we should have never moved beyond friendship to begin with, I thought miserably.
My train of thoughts was interrupted by someone holding an umbrella over my head, and I looked up to see an old lady smile down at me, her husband right next to her.
“Get home, son” she said gently, taking my hand to press the handle of the umbrella into it. “I am sure someone is waiting for you somewhere. You should not sit out here alone.”
I only stared at her as she smiled and turned to walk away with her husband, sharing his umbrella.
I sat in the sand for another few minutes until shivers started to crawl up and down my body with every breath, and I kludged uselessly at the umbrella as I raised myself, making my way back down the beach, towards the faint lights of the houses.
By the time I reached our beach house, I was trembling from the cold, and my head was pounding from crying, and I hesitated for a moment, staring when I spotted Fuma through the window.
He was sitting on the couch, crouched in on himself, staring into space, looking as miserable as I felt.
It was this look on his face that moved me to walk up to the window, knocking on the glass tentatively. Fuma’s head spun around at the noise, and he jumped up when he recognized me, his eyes wide as he ran to open the door.
“WHERE WERE YOU FOR SO LONG?!” he demanded, grabbing my arm to pull me inside as soon as I was close. “You were gone for almost two hours! You did not even have a jacket!"
I did not answer, not meeting his eyes, not even looking up as Fuma's trembling but warm fingers gently cupped my cheek.
"Kento?" He whispered. "Please look at me."
There was a moment of silence before I took a step back, out of his reach. His hand fell limply to his side.
"I will take a shower" I murmured, kicking off my shoes before fleeing into the bathroom.
It took almost half an hour under the warm spray for the shivers to subside, and even then I lingered, dreading the moment I had to walk out of the bathroom and face Fuma.
Fuma had hung fresh clothes onto the door knob for me to change into, because I had forgotten to grab my bag before I had gotten into the shower, and when I finally got the courage to open the door and walk out, he sat on the couch again, turning to look at me hesitantly.
"Will you sit down with me for a moment?" He asked tentatively, his voice gentle. "I can heat up the pizza."
"I am not hungry" I murmured, but Fuma had already stood and picked up the still closed boxes.
"You have not eaten anything since that senbei in the car" he protested, walking into the kitchen.
I stood there awkwardly, not quite sure what to do, and when Fuma finally returned with two plates and a few pieces of pizza that had been quickly heated in the microwave, he looked at me pleadingly.
"Sit" he repeated."Please..."
I bit my lip, moving over to let myself fall onto the farthest end of the couch, putting as much distance between me and Fuma as possible in the small space.
Fuma wordlessly handed me one of the plates and I took it, only staring at the food though, feeling too sick to eat. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw Fuma chew on his own piece, not seeming particularly hungry anymore either, despite his earlier complaints, and we sat in silence for a while.
"I'm sorry" Fuma said finally, his voice small. "I didn't realize how much effort you put into this. When you were gone, I saw what you did to the bedroom, and... I behaved like a total dick. I am sorry."
"I... should have known that I was going overboard. I shouldn't have forced you to spend time with me" I murmured, and the bitterness in my voice was even perceptible to my own ears.
"No, this is not..." Fuma groaned, making a face at my words. "I am just... I am pretty stressed out lately. There are exams and the album and Kamen Teacher promos ahead and I don't know if I am coming or going anymore. And I get moody and mean when I become like this and... I let it out on you. But it's not your fault."
"Yes it is" I whispered. "I tried to make you join my stupid romantic ideas when I know you hate stuff like this."
"It's just" Fuma responded, a little breathless. "I don't need this. I am no girl. You don't need to put so much effort into wooing me."
"But I like doing this!" I burst out finally, making Fuma look up at me. "I like romance and doing special things when I care for someone, and... It's just my way of showing love. And if this annoys you, maybe.." I took a deep breath, my throat tightening up again, but I forced the words out anyways, even if they sounded a little choked. "Maybe we should just stop."
"Stop what?" Fuma murmured, sounding numb.
"This thing between us" I added, almost in a whisper. "It's not working, and... Maybe we should stop before the damage is irrepairable."
There was a moment of silence, in which Fuma seemed too stunned to answer, and then suddenly he had grabbed my wrist almost painfully.
His eyes were desperate as he looked up at me, shaking his head frantically.
"No" he murmured, his voice choked. "You just... No! You can't do this to me!"
"Fuma" I began, but he interrupted me, speaking louder to make himself heard.
"I am sorry" he repeated, sounding shaky. "I know I fucked up today and you know I am bad at apologies but I promise I will do better from now on! I will put more effort into this and I will do whatever to make this work, but please, don't break up with me!"
"Why do you even want to be with me?" I demanded, seriously confused. "All day I felt like you rather wanted me gone. If I am annoying you, why do you want me around?"
"Because I can be me when you are here" Fuma said quietly. "I can relax when you are around."
"That seemed differently today" I scoffed. "Also, you don't need me to be your boyfriend for this. Friendship would have sufficed."
"Why are you making me say this, Kento?!" He groaned.
"I'm not making you say anything!" I snapped. "All I want is to understand why you look at me like I am ripping your heart out when really, besides a few kisses, it still feels like we are just friends and not boyfriends, and-"
"I love you!" Fuma called finally, making me freeze. "I love you so much that I think everyone will know when I reach out to you, so I try to keep a distance. I don't know how to show you how much I care in a subtle way. But that doesn't mean you are not important to me!"
"How am I supposed to know?!" I replied, my voice rough because I had not expected these words from Fuma's mouth. "When you push me away like today, what do you want me to think?"
"I know I fucked up today" Fuma whispered, and something was off about the way his words stumbled from his lips, making me look up, surprised when I saw his eyes glistening with tears he desperately tried to hold back. "It had nothing to do with you, but sometimes I just feel like seeing no one and being alone all day. But that doesn't change anything about my feelings for you. So please don't break up with me just like this, because I don't know how to deal with things when you are not around. I need you."
A tear slipped at the last words and it was the last straw to make me reach out to him.
His lips were desperate against mine, clumsy and rushed, his arms fastening around my shoulders and pulling me into him, holding on so tightly that I felt surrounded by him in a way that I hadn't felt since he had first kissed me over a month ago.
I melted into him, and it was the best I could do to cling to his shirt as I responded. Fuma kept kissing me until there was no air left in his lungs, as if he poured everything into the gesture until there was nothing left standing in between us, and when he pulled away, I felt dazed and dizzy.
Fuma pressed his face into my neck, and I could feel the wetness of his tears and the way he was still shaking, little tremors wracking through his body, and it made me sneak my arms around his torso, hugging him back properly.
"Don't leave me" he repeated finally. "Just... don't. We belong together."
"I never wanted to break up with you" I pointed out, feeling almost guilty now. “I just wasn't sure if this was really what you wanted."
"Well it is" Fuma whispered. “You are what I want, even if I suck at telling you so.”
"You want me even with the roses and the candles and the useless ideas and their tendency for catastrophes?" I asked, almost teasing.
"I love you despite JMK" Fuma snorted.
"Well" I nodded, and Fuma looked up again to meet my gaze. His eyes were red and puffy and I could not help but reach out to stroke some of the wetness from his cheeks.
"I hope you appreciate this" Fuma said darkly. "The last time I cried in front of someone I was 12."
"I feel more like a boyfriend already" I chuckled, and Fuma made a face, but leaned into my touch as I caressed his cheekbone. "Next time you feel crappy, don't get all grumpy on me. Let me catch you instead."
"Okay, I will try" Fuma nodded, before leaning in again pointedly. I got the message and smiled as I met him halfway, pulling him into another kiss.
Fuma's kiss was softer now, the urgency and the desperation gone, replaced by a gentleness that made me feel warm and incredibly loved. The way I had craved to feel all day, when everything had gone wrong, but now that Fuma was kissing me like that, like I was the most essential thing to him, I thought that maybe, all the unlucky happenings today had been kind of worth it.
I let myself fall into it, running my fingers through Fuma’s hair absentmindedly, enjoying the way he shivered under my touch.
I was a little perplexed when he pulled away completely all of a sudden, moving back on the couch to look at me, bringing a good bit of space in between us.
“Okay, I will wait for 2 minutes” he announced, and I frowned at him in confusion. “2 minutes for you to rearrange all these candles in the bedroom and light them. And then I will come after you.”
I raised an eyebrow at him, and Fuma smiled, nodding into the direction of the bedroom.
It was all I needed to jump up, almost stumbling over the arm of the couch, but Fuma’s chuckle was so soft I did not feel offended by it.
My hands were shaking a little as I tried to deal with the matches, and I took longer than I usually would, startling a little when Fuma opened the door and I was not completely done. Fuma did not say anything, though, just snatching the box of matches out of my hands to help me light the rest of them.
When we were done, the room was beautifully illuminated by the soft glow of the candles, just enough to make out the poster on the wall, and I felt happy as Fuma wrapped his arms around me from behind, kissing my neck.
“It is still silly” he announced, placing another loud smooch on my skin, making me squirm, before continuing. “But it is a little bit nice too. Thank you.”
I rolled my eyes, turning around in is arms until I was facing him, brushing his long strands out of his face.
“You will learn to appreciate my cheesiness” I grumbled. “I will just keep pulling it on you until you can’t live without it anymore.”
Fuma scoffed, but he was smiling as his arms tightened around me again, pulling me into another kiss.
The bed was nice and soft as Fuma gently lowered me down onto the mattress, and I stretched contently, making him hold in and chuckle at the sight, swiftly pinning a strand of hair behind my ear as he settled down with his knees on both sides of my hips, straddling me.
“You are not going to nap off on me now, are you?” he teased, leaning down to nibble on the point where my neck hit my shoulder, making me gasp and arch my neck to give him better access.
“You were the one complaining all day how tired you were” I managed to remind him, and Fuma gently bit down on my collarbone, squeezing a weird noise out of my throat.
“I woke up while worrying about you catching death out there in the typhoon” he reminded me sternly, but he did not stop kissing me, his lips flying over my throat, placing featherlight kisses everywhere. It was merely a brush of his lips, but it made me shiver and find Fuma’s shoulders, digging my nails into the muscles. “Besides, this was your plan, right?” he murmured at last, when I had almost forgotten what we had talked about. “Or do you want to tell me that you decorated the whole room simply for a better sleeping experience?”
“Haha” I said drily, and Fuma looked up to meet my eyes, smiling at me almost shily.
“I fucked a lot of things up today” he said finally, his fingers finding the way underneath my shirt, tickling the skin of my stomach. “Let me do this the right way, at least.”
Instead of answering, I just caught his lips in another kiss, licking over them eagerly, fighting my way inside his mouth. Fuma moaned softly as I kissed him, deep and thorough, and his fingers were shaking a little as they moved upwards under my shirt, teasing the skin he found with light, fleeting touches.
It made me feel shivery and light-headed, and I reached for the hem of his shirt as well, pulling it up.
We broke the kiss for a moment so that Fuma could shrug out of his shirt, and he tugged at mine as well, making me sit up so I could remove it as well.
I did not even have time to lay back down before Fuma’s lips were already on my skin, tasting me, and I shivered as my fingers fisted his hair for something to hold on to.
Fuma seemed to be wanting to touch everything at once, never staying at one place too long, and it was like an endless wave of teases, making me whine pathetically at him when it became too much.
He returned to my mouth then, for another round of deep kisses, and my own palms ran down his back until I found his butt, squeazing it through his jeans as if to release some tension.
It encouraged Fuma to thrust down, and both of us let out a low moan at the friction of our clothed erections rubbing against each other.
Fuma continued kissing me as I encouraged him to hump me slowly until both of us were out of breath and so worked up that the desperation could be tasted in our kiss.
“Do you have stuff?” Fuma whispered against my lips, and I nodded, because when I had planned this whole thing, of course I had taken care of this as well.
It had been a little embarassing, but internet shops were discreet nowadays, sending packages camouflaged as Amazon products, and my mother had not asked any questions when I had told her I had merely ordered a book for university.
I felt an irrational pang of disappointment when Fuma disentangled himself from me, pecking me once more on the lips before crossing the room to rummage through my bag.
His face was red when he pressed the bottle of lube and the condom into my hand, letting me fumble with it as he shrugged out of his pants clumsily and attacked the zipper of my jeans afterwards, for good measure.
When all clothes were finally out of the way, I pulled the blanket out from underneath me as Fuma returned to his former position, looking down at me in obvious nerves.
“I want you to do it” He said finally, and I blinked at him a few times before the meaning of his words sunk in.
“What?!" I asked dumbly, honestly surprised. Every time I had played this out in my head, it had gone differently. "Really?!"
"Yes" Fuma nodded, but his voice was slightly choked. "Don't ask questions, okay?"
I nodded, still perplexed, and Fuma leaned in to kiss all further answers from my lips.
My fingers were trembling as I tried to uncab the bottle of lube, and I was thankful when Fuma’s lips moved from my mouth to my neck again, allowing me to turn my head to see what I was doing. All of a sudden, I was incredibly nervous, worse than any kind of stage fright I had ever felt before, and it was the best I could do to not spill the substance all over both of us, keeping it in my hand.
Fuma obviously tried to distract himself with slow kisses all over my skin, but his shoulders were tensed, and it moved me to hug him close for a moment, searching the intimacy before I let my hands wander down.
Fuma jerked a little as my fingers caressed the indent between his butt cheeks, but just attached his lips firmly to the skin of my throat, sucking so decidedly that I was not sure that he wasn’t going to leave a mark.
The skin of his entrance was wrinkled and soft, and I stroked over it for a while, oddly fascinated by it, and Fuma shuddered a little from the touch. The tight ring of muscles twitched when I gently poked it with my middle finger, trying to gain entry.
“Tell me when I am hurting you” I whispered, and Fuma simply nodded, exhaling abruptly against my skin as I slipped the tip of my finger inside.
Fuma was incredibly tight, so tight that I seriously wondered how this was going to even work, and when I tentatively tried to circle my finger, Fuma made a low noise, his hands finding my shoulders and clinging to them.
I tried to take it slow, trying to pay attention to every shudder of Fuma’s body, every bit of tension, every tremble. He made noises, some I found hard to place, not sure if they were caused by pleasure or discomfort or even pain, and I found myself asking him if he was okay four times until he softly bit down on my earlobe, telling me to shut up.
And after a while, it seemed to become easier, Fuma’s muscles loosening around me enough to allow me to slip a second finger inside and move them around more freely. Feeling Fuma like this was almost mindblowing, and I wondered how I was going to last when I was finally inside of him.
“I hope I am not going to embarrass myself” I whispered, and Fuma let out a choked chuckle, but cut himself off with a deep moan when I brushed something inside of him. I concentrated, trying to find that spot again, and Fuma pressed his face into my shoulder, desperately trying to keep his noises down as he dug his nails into my skin.
“Kento” he groaned after a few more brushs against the same spot, his voice sounding feeble. “Please… I… oh shit… You won’t be able to embarrass yourself if you don’t…”
He heaved a sigh of relief when I began to move my fingers out of him, moving his face to the side to catch a deep breath.
“How are we going to do this?” I enquired, shooting an unsure look to the condom on the pillow next to me. “Do you want to-”
“Like this is fine” Fuma murmured, squeezing my shoulder. “I feel more in control when we are like this.”
“Okay” I nodded, taking a deep breath as I reached for the condom. “Okay” I repeated, and even I could hear the panic in my own voice.
Fuma turned his head again, searching my lips, and I was a little surprised when his fingers closed over mine, snatchin the foil package out of my fingers.
It was all I could do to keep kissing him, keeping my eyes firmly closed as I heard Fuma rip open the package, finding my erection with trembling fingers, rolling the condom onto me. I moaned against his lips, trying hard not to thrust into his touch as he lingered, holding the base of my shaft.
He broke the kiss to move up a little above me, and I bent my knees, giving him the opportunity to hold onto them to steady himself.
Both of us gasped when my tip poked his entrance, and I reached out my hands to hold onto his hips.
“Okay” Fuma nodded, his voice high, and I just squeezed his hips, waiting for him to move.
When Fuma sank down, he did it in one go, barely giving me time to breathe, and I held onto him tightly as he surrounded me, tight and warm and perfect and too much, and I whimpered desperately as Fuma trembled above me.
“Oh god” he murmured, squeezing down on my thigh. “I… Oh god, Kento…”
“Yes” I nodded, somehow getting what he was trying to say despite his lack of eloquence, and held still as Fuma tried to adjust, taking deep, shaky breaths.
“Can you come up?” Fuma asked finally, opening his eyes to catch my gaze. “I… can’t seem to move, and-”
I nodded, letting go of his hips to scramble myself up, and Fuma hissed at the movement it created, his arms going around my shoulders as soon as I started to sit up.
“Kiss me” Fuma demanded, and I wrapped my arms around his waist to hug him close as I caught his lips with mine.
Kissing seemed to help, because with a little squirming, we found a comfortable position soon. with Fuma in my lap, and his trembles slowly subsiding, turning into occasional shivers.
“Okay” Fuma whispered against my lips, and I took it as a permission to slowly circle my hips, creating a friction that made Fuma moan.
The first thrust was a little uncoordinated, making Fuma tense, but he just held onto me tighter as I continued, slowly finding a rhythm that seemed to work.
The noises he made fueled me on, little whimpers and moans he did not quite seem to be able to suppress, and I navigated by them, trying hard to keep control over my movements as pleasure clouded my mind.
Our kiss was more a tangling of tongues than anything else as time passed, because we could not seem to keep our mouths closed long enough to keep kissing properly, and when Fuma gasped and broke the kiss, I was confused at first, but the expression of perfect bliss on his face was enough answer for me. I thrust up harder, trying to hit the same spot again, and Fuma whispered my name, seeming to have lost his voice.
He tightened down around me, and I felt a warmth pooling in my stomach, making me reach down between us for Fuma’s erection, stroking him intently. I did not want to come alone.
It did not take much either, Fuma tightening down around me sooner than I would have thought, my name on his lips as he took me over the edge with him, and I became oblivious to everything around me for a few long moments, everything but Fuma’s body in my arms and the way his breathing slowed down.
I only opened my eyes when Fuma stroked my hair out of my face, looking down at me with a smile.
“Maybe you kidnapping me was a good idea, after all” he mused finally, kissing my nose. “Though next time you choose a beach, please do it in summer.”
“Next time I will do something new” I frowned, but could not keep the smile off my face as he popped an eyebrow. “Have to stay creative, don’t I?”
“Should I be scared?” Fuma chuckled, but when I pulled him into another kiss, he did not seem to particular mind.