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**
I’d like to be taken
Apart from the inside
Then spit through the cycle right to the end
-- Deftones, “Tempest”
Toronto cityscape is a stark contrast against the darkening deep-blue hues of the evening sky; concrete jungles with islands of untamed yet well-kept ever-green trees among towering skyscrapers and office buildings. The megalopolis seems subdued and quiet through the transparent glass of a car window. The lulling hum of the car engine is making Shohei’s heavy eyelids close. He might have fallen asleep already if not for the tingling adrenaline circling in his blood system, like a constant itch which is hard to ignore. He thinks lilac nightfall and orange sunset are beautiful, even though it looks like spring has temporarily forgotten its route to the Canadian city, remnants of snow still can be seen on pavements here and there.
He thinks of the man he has come to Toronto for, recalling their yesterday’s evening phone conversation.
‘I’ve heard you wanted to go to a batting center… I can organize it easily if you want, even though it is only possible at some ungodly hour in the dead of night…’
‘No.’
Shohei sighs with utmost patience. He knows the tone all too well, bracing himself for an impending outburst, for an imminent fit of temper. But it doesn’t follow and somehow it seems even worse.
‘I can come tomorrow. Yes, it is reckless and immature and risky to simply fly to you across the continent. But I want to and no one can stop me. I’ll be careful and discreet and you don’t have to worry about…’
‘Why?’
There is so much resignation in Yuzuru’s broken, quiet voice Shohei winces. It is so unlike him — he is sounding dull and lackluster and Shohei hates the way it makes him feel utter helplessness. He knows perfectly that their current dialogue is like a damaged aircraft bound to crush and burn. It might escalate and get out of control pretty quickly.
‘I want to see you... I want you.’
Yuzuru chuckles darkly, his laughter muffled at the other end of the line.
‘No one wants losers. I have lost.’
‘But you’ve fought, Yuzu. You don’t have to prove anything anymore…You are…’, Shohei pauses, suddenly short of breath. The words seem so shallow and superficial and they are not convincing at all in his eyes. He means each one of them, yet he knows it is not enough, so he just stutters, bitter lump rising in his throat. He is hearing Yuzuru’s shaky breathing and it makes him attempt one more time — to convince Yuzuru’s extremely stubborn self in the obvious, to throw a lifeline to the man drowning in his own insecurities and self-deprecation… to save him from himself.
Through pain we gain strength, through suffering we gain invaluable experience which transforms us for the better.
It is true not in all instances but when it comes to pure, special beings like Yuzuru it is often exactly the case.
Shohei refrains from a pseudo-philosophical tirade though, aiming to address Yuzuru’s heart and soul and not reason which is the root of all problems for him (meticulous planning of each and every step, unceasing calculations and overthinking on a constant basis, daily visualization to the point of a dull headache).
They say fools are the happiest. Yuzuru is far from being either.
‘You are the one for me… And not only for me…Sorry, it sounds so lame but I really mean it. Just please don’t hang up on me…I feel privileged because of loving you.’
Here, he said it and a tiny intake of breath serves Shohei as a sign that his words have indeed registered, reaching their destination in Yuzuru’s flaming heart, beneath his ribcage where it is beating with a will to live and to fight, regardless of what he might have declared in a moment of frustration. Shohei wishes he could put his ear to Yuzuru’s slender chest to hear the quickened heartbeat.
‘I need to see you so badly, Yuzu. Just…Just let me, please’, he lets yearning seep into his voice so it could flood Yuzuru’s being, hoping it would make him feel a tad better.
He wants honesty between them. It is the only thing he is asking Yuzuru of.
Bright city lights blur as the car is taking him down Toronto streets to a place where Yuzuru lives. Shohei gives in to recollections: various little details and fragments of their late night conversations. Maybe time would fly faster this way. He wonders whether Yuzuru is waiting for him, not that he wouldn’t come anyway...
Bone-deep satisfaction and sweaty bodies, tired limbs intertwined sinfully. Shohei lets his fingertips travel across porcelain skin. He thinks Yuzuru looks like an exquisite doll. He is afraid it could be broken one day if not being handled with utmost care; it requires special handling because it thinks it’s really strong and invincible, yet it is as precious as it is fragile to him.
Shohei is looking at Yuzuru’s quivering eyelashes and a thin sheen of perspiration next to his hairline looks like diamond dust – so beautiful and serene. He thinks Yuzuru oozes sensuality even while simply lying still, relaxed and shining from within in the afterglow. It seems like a rare gift — to be at his side at such an unguarded moment of raw vulnerability, which draws you in and would never let go. The object of adoration of thousands is strikingly human right now and Shohei senses he can’t miss such opportunity.
There were questions he longed to hear answers to. There existed a vague fear of spoiling the moment of tranquility between the two of them yet the poisonous sting of jealousy injected directly into his veins was too deadly to simply ignore and pretend it didn’t threaten to kill him.
‘Have you and Fernandez..?’
Even though his voice cracked, Shohei wasn’t going to let the started conversation fade into nothingness this particular time. He saw the way Yuzuru’s skinny shoulders tensed immediately. He turned to look Shohei directly in the eye, no more hiding in shades of half-truths and paltry excuses. His gaze penetrated Shohei to the core but he didn’t flinch, didn’t avert his eyes.
It seemed right.
Shohei wasn’t going to treat Yuzuru as a pouty and spoiled child, sparing his feelings all of the time (even if it was exactly what he used to do). This time he decided to be greedy and selfish: needing sweet soft nothings, demanding words of loyalty and scorching touches.
He wanted the intoxicating thrill of being wanted, of being needed and loved.
‘Tell me…It’s over, isn’t it?’
You sound like a child.
The unsettling voice in his head wouldn’t shut up.
Like a stray dog begging for a bone.
Pathetic.
You are miserable and desperate, aren’t you? You think you can replace the ‘Spaniard macho’? Have you seen the way his dark eyes were devouring Yuzuru, the way his muscular arms slid around that sinful waist like they belonged there. Their bodies were like pieces of the same puzzle, fitting perfectly. You think he doesn’t want to simply lie beneath him again, taking it while enjoying every single moment…? Please, don’t be so naive…
He still wants him and you know it yourself.
Shohei had to find a way to silence the nagging murmur in his head.
‘You already know the answer’, Yuzuru’s lips are a thin crimson line.
Yes, Shohei knows the answer but he needs to hear it — again and again and again…
‘It feels like falling when I am with you, Yuzu. Falling into a starless abyss where there is no bottom. It is an endless fall which one is unable to stop. You can’t quit or escape once you have started… Going deeper and deeper…constantly…Has he told you the same?’
It reminds Shohei of poking a stick into a fresh wound so that it could get infected with insecurities, mutual accusations and fear of rejection. It seems pointless and verges on masochistic side but he can’t find it in him to stop.
Loving perfection was never meant to be easy in the first place. There has to be a certain price for possessing someone who is seemingly ideal and otherworldly: made of golden feathers and promises of a flight, his diamond heart sparkling with roughly-cut edges.
He is simply blinding.
Yuzuru cups Shohei’s big ingenuous face in his delicate palms. Shohei doesn’t make an attempt to turn away, his gaze remaining earnest and fierce. He has nothing to hide from Yuzuru’s piercing eyes which are scorching him like a couple of intense laser beams.
‘Why you keep on bringing him up constantly..?’
‘Why do you keep avoiding answering my questions directly?’
A tiny vein is beating visibly underneath the pale skin of Yuzuru’s swanlike neck and Shohei wants to press his lips to it, to savagely taste the tender skin, to leave a mark of his possessive desire there. He grabs Yuzuru’s fragile wrists roughly, taking his hands away from his flushed face. Perhaps, he is squeezing a little too hard as Yuzuru is wincing slightly from an obvious discomfort.
There is a telling dark gleam in his obsidian eyes and the way Yuzuru is smirking at Shohei defiantly ignites fire low in his underbelly. Shohei’s breathing catches in his throat.
It definitely looks like Yuzuru is playing him like a fiddle again.
Isn’t it enough? Will the turbulence of their stormy relationships one day give way to satisfying warmth of calm sunglow?
The answer comes sudden and frank, like a powerful wave crashing against the rocky coastline; it fills Shohei’s ribcage with overflowing emotion.
‘I want to love you. I want to at least try to…I really do.’
Yuzuru closes his eyes and Shohei kisses him, their mouths colliding to devour, tongues seeking entrance — at once probing and commanding.
There is no finesse in their caresses, only raw hunger and an overpowering need to feel.
It sets Shohei’s skin ablaze: Yuzuru’s whiny moans and breathless curses as he slowly works him into submission with his lips and fingers. Yuzuru is a shivering mess when Shohei finally fills him fully, beginning to pound from behind, his deep and powerful thrusts coaxing enticing, incoherent sounds out of Yuzuru.
Yuzuru is arching his spine graciously, getting carried away by the overwhelming sensations: the burning sting and sweetest agony of penetration.
Shohei lets his big hands slide up Yuzuru’s spine, tracing small protruding vertebrae with tenderness which is an exquisite contrast to the merciless ravishing he is subjecting Yuzuru to.
It is a feeling worth living for and he lets himself go completely, lost in the tight heat of Yuzuru’s divine body, his muscular hips setting an unrelenting and punishing rhythm.
Yuzuru cries out at each of particularly viscious thrusts and Shohei wants nothing more than to make him sore so that every step he would make tomorrow would be a reminder of this to Yuzuru — of the way he was taken apart so thoroughly the night before.
Shohei bites the back of Yuzuru’s sweaty neck, tasting salt on his tongue and the young man beneath him howls, his inner walls constricting deliciously around him as an almost painful orgasm claims his shuddering body.
Shohei keeps on thrusting inside roughly, unrestrained and wild, chasing his own release and there is no way he can hold on for more than several torturously delightful minutes. He is on the verge of fainting, coming deep inside Yuzuru, blood raging in his ears and arms unable to support him any longer as he falls on top of Yuzuru’s still shivering body — completely spent and totally blissed out.
Shohei is thinking fleetingly of how different they truly are: not only in appearance but personality-wise as well. Yuzuru is of slender build, looking deceptively fragile and he himself is like a ‘mountain of sheer muscles and bones’, yet it is often Yuzuru who has the upper hand, his aura of dominance and peppery temper also in sharp contrast to Shohei’s milder disposition.
They are like blazing flames and soothing raindrops and it seems to Shohei that it is meant to be this way.
Yuzuru groans and elbows him in the rib not too subtly, whimpering softly as Shohei finally pulls out. He is shocked to see Yuzuru’s face tear-stricken, his misty eyes shining brightly and expression dazed.
Shohei traces Yuzuru’s high cheekbone with a fingertip gingerly; there is a sudden gut-wrenching need to be tender and caring and to bathe Yuzuru in the purest of his affection. Shohei senses his chest swell with feeling which is there to stay.
Yuzuru is smiling at him weakly, looking exhausted, dark shadows underneath his eyes making him even paler than he usually is. He looks like a denounced deity or a fallen angel cast out of heaven and Shohei has every desire to return Yuzuru to where he belongs.
‘He has never fucked me like this…too intense…kuso.’
Shohei grabs Yuzuru into a firm headlock, ruffling his moist dark locks as ringing laughter fills the space, ricocheting from the walls of the room. Shohei is drinking in the feeling of Yuzuru in his arms, as he is curled against his muscular torso like a defenseless blind kitten, head resting on his broad chest peacefully.
He thinks Yuzuru’s hair smells of vanilla and daffodils and he prays the world outside these walls cease to exist…if only until tomorrow.
**
The car stops with a jolt, bringing Shohei back to reality. He pays the driver and asks him to be back here only on the following morning as there is no need in waiting for him tonight.
Yuzuru opens the doors to his luxurious spacious condo in practically no time, dressed into a white t-shirt which could easily pass for a mini dress. His lips taste of strawberry milkshake and Shohei can catch soundtrack of Yuzuru’s favorite anime playing in the background from the stereo system.
‘I was waiting for you,’ Yuzuru’s whisper is tickling his neck and he feels whole again, savouring a newly-found sense of profound warmth.
Yuzuru may not like answering Shohei’s questions directly, yet sometimes actions speak louder than any words ever would.
**