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Chapter Text

1 - Experience

2 - Get Me Ready

3 - Father

4 - Ten Minutes

5 - Body Work

Chapter Text

“Private First Class Tanigaki?”

Genjirou came to attention in the tub.

“I’m not over there, Tanigaki,”

He turned to face Superior Private Ogata.

“Your rank’s time was up an hour ago,”

Genjirou swallowed his anger; they lost so many men in Manchuria there was no longer a need for strictly scheduled bathing times. Yet Ogata always washed alone, and everyone knew why.

“Sir, I have permission,” he spoke carefully. “I stood the watch with Corporal Tamai, he just left, he told me to take my time,”

“It’s cold tonight, Tanigaki,” Ogata pulled off his yukata and the dark nest of hair between his hips contrasted his pale skin. “I understand the Corporal’s generosity, but your time is up,”

Hands on the cedar plank trim, he hoisted himself from the steaming water and glanced Ogata on the wash bench. The man unfolded his towel, revealing a bar of soap, a tin of shaving powder, and folded-up straight razor.

“Why are you just sitting there, Tanigaki?”

“You set your towel on mine, Sir,” he said. Ogata yanked the cloth out from under his own and pitched it to him. “Thank you, Sir,”

“Seeing all that hair you’ve got,” Ogata unfolded the razor. “I’m going to assume you know nothing about shaving,”

“I don’t groom myself fully, Sir,” he said as Ogata sat straddling the bench. “But I’ve shaved a man before,”

“Make some cream, Tanigaki,” Ogata tossed him the tin. “Be useful for a change,”

Catching it, he removed the lid and filled it with hot water from the tub. A small shake of powder was all it took to build some foam. He grabbed a short brush from the shelf and rubbed the bristles into it, creating a lather.

“Do you need a hot towel,” he asked, finding him laid back on the bench; a lean man, his brawn was sedate.

“Not today,” Ogata closed his eyes and laced his fingers under his head. “How old are you, Tanigaki?”

“Nineteen, Sir, I’ll be twenty next month,”

“I’m twenty-four,” said Ogata. “Hurry up, Tanigaki,”

“You have to sit up, Sir,”

Ogata’s eyes snapped open.

“You’re not shaving my face, Tanigaki,”

“What do you mean, Sir?”

“Please tell me you’re not this stupid?”

“I’ll need grooming shears, Sir,”

“What for Tanigaki?”

“You’re overgrown, Sir,” said Genjirou. “I can’t just go at it with a razor, it needs to be trimmed first,”

Ogata’s smile proved brighter than his eyes.

“So, it’s true,” he leered. “You’re the one shaving Tsukishima,”

“I assist, Sir,” Genjirou studied the wilting lather in the lid. “Sergeant needs help shaving around his sutures, and I have the experience,”

“What kind of experience, Tanigaki?”

“Grooming a man’s wounds, Sir,”

Ogata sat up and swung his leg over the bench.

“Put the lather down and bring me a bucket,”

Genjirou retrieved the bucket and handing it over, stood beside him.

“You’re quite hirsute,” he said, dipping his soap in the water. “Do you ever get cold in the winter?”

“I get cold, Sir, yes,”

Ogata pressed the corner of the slimy bar to Genjirou’s navel and looked up into his eyes; this shared gaze went on longer than it should have.

“Wash my back, Tanigaki,”

“Would you rather I washed your front, Sir?”

Edged eyes regarded him boldly, “My back will suffice,”

Soap in hand, he moved in behind him and ran the slick bar down his back. Upon making a few coated streaks, he set the soap on Ogata’s thigh. Hands glided down the man’s skin, and sudsy fingers scratched gently before smoothing the muddle with a flattened palm.

Meticulous, Ogata rubbed soap over his genitals, jostling his flaccid flesh and coating his hairs with lather. When he grabbed hold of it and pulled back his foreskin to clean, Genjirou lost his breath.

“Bucket, Sir,” he said quickly.

Ogata collected it from the ground and set it on the bench.

Water collided with the nape of his neck before cascading down his back. He let out a contented sigh, head up, eyes closed, and back arched.

“My mother was a cold-water washer,” he said.

“We only bathed in cold water on the hunt,”

Ogata held up a nail-paring clipper, “Will you cut my toenails, Tanigaki?”

He walked to the front of him and sank to his knees. Towel pulled free of his waist, he stared at Ogata as he spread it over his thighs.

“Your foot, Sir,” he said, hand out.

“Experience cutting a man’s nails?” Ogata smirked.

“Only my own, Sir,” he answered.

Ogata’s toes were agreeably proportioned.

Unlike most people, his second toe wasn’t slightly longer than his first; each was smaller than the one before it.

The fine hairs on his muscled calves were black like the cropped hair upon his head.

“Sir,” he held up the paring clips. “Anything else you’d like me to do while I’m down here?”

“That’s a dangerous question, Tanigaki,” Ogata pulled the towel from his neck and draped it over Genjirou’s head like a veil. “Answering that question would get me separated from the Imperial Army,”

Genjirou pinched the tips of the towel and raised the hem until only Ogata’s manhood was in view. He tipped his head between Ogata’s knees wrapped his mouth around the pliant flesh. When it hardened between his lips, it grazed past his teeth and poked into his cheek.

Ogata’s hand jerked the towel from his head and with his penis free he took him by the chin, “Why are you spending so much time on my cock, Tanigaki?”

Mouth open and wet in his grasp, “I need it inside me, Sir,”

Ogata’s lips twisted into a smile.

“Time to show what I’ve got experience in, Tanigaki,”

Genjirou’s lips remained slack as Ogata moved in with his tongue out and eager to invade.

“Superior Private Ogata,” boomed the voice of Tamai.

On his feet he snatched up his towel and casually pulled it around his waist; Ogata already turned his back on the Corporal.

“Did I interrupt something?” Tamai asked.

“No, Sir,” he said, face hot; he bowed. “Thank you, Sir, for allowing me this extra time,”

“Dismissed, Tanigaki,” said Tamai, slapping him on the back.

Long yukata pulled tight, he stepped out the door.

Tamai’s voice lingered, “You didn’t waste any time,”

“It wasn’t like that,” Ogata said flatly.

Genjirou sighed in relief.

“Well, what do you think?” Tamai demanded.

“He’s not an option,” said Ogata.

“He and Noma are the best mountaineers in the 27th,” Tamai argued.

“He’s loyal to a fault,” Ogata snapped. “You can’t bring him in on this—”

Genjirou backed away and darted out into the night.

Chapter Text

The floor wasn’t uncomfortable anymore, and after counting to sixty ten times, he lost interest in the ceiling.

Beside his cheek was a cotton-covered foot, attached to a meaty calf with enough hair on it to ensure the Matagi never needed a sock-suspender.

Get me Ready.

No man ever said these words to him, certainly not when he was on his knees with their cock in his mouth. Since late Primary School, he’d pleasured his share of men and nearly all reciprocated in kind—but no man ever asked to be fucked.

Luck didn’t reward Hyakunosuke Ogata in such matters; so naturally last night was suspect.

Late to the mandatory meeting of the Superior Private’s found him punished with an unwanted midnight watch—this time with the Matagi.

He could count on one hand how many times he exchanged words with the burly man; Tanigaki wasn’t in his section—he was subordinate to Superior Private Noma.

An absurd disagreement sparked angry words that had continued while crossing the quad at daybreak. Unwilling to allow the Private a last say, he followed him into the farming shed where insults turned physical.

“Tanigaki?”

A sharp intake of breath brought the Matagi alive.

His corded abdomen was covered in fine hairs that thickened above his navel and turned sparse over his chest; last night it was slick with sweat and dotted with spunk.

Beneath it all lay the Matagi’s third arm.

A sleeping giant, when awakened, he’d been unable to get it past his molars. Fear had come while lapping at his foreskin—he couldn’t take a man this size, not even with the help of an extra lover willing to get him ready.

Get me ready; the most passionate words any man ever asked of him, and so he obliged with plenty of spit and a prodding thumb.

On his back with his legs spread and a cock up his ass, Tanigaki rivaled any whore in Asahikawa. He didn't cover his face or shy away from telling him what to do.

Planted deep and jerking him off, Hyakunosuke had struggled to hold out, keen to study his response and emulate that passion with his next lover.

“Shit!” the Matagi snatched up his uniform pants. “Did reveille sound yet?”

“It’s Saturday, Tanigaki,”

His momentary relief gave way to regret.

“This did not happen,” he became a one-legged dancer while pulling on his pants.

“How could you let this happen?”

“I let this happen?” outrage bent his brow. “You followed me in here, running your mouth after I told you where to go-”

“—you told me to go drown myself,”

“Still sound advice, Sir,” he spat, punching an arm into his shirt sleeve. “How did this even happen?”

“You grabbed my cock, Tanigaki,”

“No,” he raised a finger. “You grabbed my hand,”

“And it ended up on my cock,”

“You put my hand on your—forget this, I’m going back to barracks,” he searched for his boots. “We cannot be seen together. Just wait here a few minutes,”

“I know how discretion works, Tanigaki,”

“Do you, Sir?” he demanded, head tilted and face flustered. “Humping in the farm shed isn’t very discreet,”

“One thing led to another Tanigaki,”

“Yes, it did,” he sat upon the floor and slipped on his boots. “And that another will be the last time,”

“Look at me, Private!”

Boyish brown eyes beckoned and made the words easy.

“Thank you for last night,”

“No one can know about this, Ogata,” he pleaded. “We could end up in prison. Not the brig in Sapporo, but that hell hole at Abashiri,”

“Just don’t tell Noma,”

“Noma?” he gasped. “Superior Private Noma?”

“The only Noma you know, Tanigaki,”

On his feet, gears turned behind that rugged brow, “Wait, you’re ‘Noske?”

“Someone’s listening to private encounters,”

“No, never,” he brought up his hands. “He talked about you, with me, on the mountain hike last month,”

Every full moon, a superior took his riflemen up the mountain to review their survival skills.

“Tanigaki, why weren’t you with them last night?”

Unsure, the Matagi averted his eyes.

“Who took your place, Tanigaki?”

“No one, I don’t know, Sir,” he stammered.

“Don’t lie to me Tanigaki, you’re a lousy liar,”

He hesitated, “Usami went in my place,”

“You lured me in here!”

“No!” he declared, face ashen and arms folded over his chest. “Usami volunteered to go in my place because he needed-”

“He needed to get laid!”

“Hiking experience! Noma wouldn’t do that to you, Sir!” guilt presented the Matagi’s back. “I took advantage, that was wrong of me,”

“Took advantage of what, Tanigaki?”

“I didn’t know you were with Noma, but Usami obviously did,” he said. “And that’s why-”

“—You got the wrong idea, Tanigaki?”

“I saw my chance, and I took it,” he faced him without a hint of shame. “I wanted to be alone with you, so I agreed to help him,”

“You let Usami manipulate you?”

“I knew Noma had a lover I just didn’t know it was you,” he stepped close, confident. “Usami knew, and I let myself get used, so, that’s on me.”

“You wanted to be alone with me, Tanigaki?”

“You always rub your head like that when you ask a question, you know the answer too,” he dragged the back of his knuckles gently across Hyakunosuke’s crotch. “I knew it was the right size, a perfect fit,”

“It definitely fits you, Tanigaki,”

“But you’re Noma’s,” he slipped away. “I won’t interfere with that-”

“—Interfere with me, Tanigaki,”

“This can’t happen again, Sir,” hand on the door, he shook his head. “It wouldn’t be right,”

Chapter Text

Something cold and wet prodded his foot.

Open eyes found Ryuu and a wagging tail batting his knee.

“Okay,” Cikapasi whispered. “I got to pee too,”

Tanigaki roused beside him, eyes still closed.

“Where are you going, boy?” he slurred.

“Ryuu needs to pee,”

“Ryuu’s fine—piss on his own,” he garbled.

“I got to pee, too,”

“No exploring—come right back,” he mumbled.

“Yes, sir,”

On his feet, he stepped around the smoldering incense coil and found that ugly sisam, Ogata, sitting cross-legged and staring at him. Back up and shoulders square, he looked the man in the eyes and refused to show fear.

“I got to piss,” he said.

“What makes you think I care?”

“You’ll care,” he muttered to himself. “When I piss on your head,”

Ogata flexed as Cikapasi darted off into the trees.

Beyond the perimeter of the smelly coil, mosquitoes swarmed in the moonlight. Ryuu would be fine with all his fur, but Cikapasi was still covered with sand flea bites from the beach at Kushiro.

Back at camp, he spotted Sugimoto by the outer fire with a rifle slung over his shoulder. He crept past him and returned to where the others slept only to find his place beside Tanigaki-nispa taken by Ogata.

Cikapasi curled his hands and tapped the man’s leg with his bare foot. Ogata let loose a stifled groan and turned into Tanigaki’s armpit.

“It’s okay, boy,” said Tanigaki, wrapping a protective arm around Ogata.

When that ugly sisam had the gall to snuggle closer, Cikapasi hissed, “Hey!”

“Stop that,” Asirpa whispered, lying beside Inkarmat. “Leave him be,”

“No-”

“—he’s been keeping watch tonight and now its Sugimoto’s turn,” Asirpa explained, quietly. “Let him sleep,”

“He’s in my spot,”

Asirpa patted the grass between her and Inkarmat.

“Come over here and lay with us,”

Cikapasi pouted before laying between them.

“Why’s he over there anyway?”

“I think he likes Tanigaki-nispa,”

“Well, he can’t have him, he’s my ac-” he lowered his head in shame.

Asirpa’s hand touched his hair.

“Cikapsi, there’s nothing wrong with thinking of Tanigaki-nispa as your aca,” she whispered. “I think of Sugimoto that way too sometimes,”

“Sugimoto?” he asked. “Aren’t you scared of him?”

“I’m not scared of Sugimoto,” she said, thoughtful. “Tanigaki-nispa scared me when I first met him,”

“Tanigaki-nispa?” he smiled. “He isn’t scary at all,”

“When we first met, I was terrified of Tanigaki-nispa,” Asirpa whispered. “Then I got to know the real man that Huci and Osoma love so much. You’ll see Sugimoto for the real man he is too, and you won’t be afraid,”

Cikapasi gazed into her strange blue eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“You really think of Sugimoto as your aca?” he said. “How would that make your real aca feel?”

“My aca is dead. He’s still very much a part of me, Cikapasi, but I can’t live my life mourning him,” she rolled onto her side and moved closer to him. “Huci says people come and go in this life, but I think some people are supposed to stay with us, forever,”

Cikapasi grinned, “Huci will be here forever,”

Asirpa giggled with him and when they quieted, his thoughts drifted to the past.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“My aca was always away whaling or working with the sisam on their railroad,” he whispered. “Every winter he came home, but when he came home sick, everybody got sick,” his nose burned. “Last summer, I forgot what his face looked like,”

“I’m sorry, Cikapasi,” she put a hand on his.

“When we were looking for you, and Inkarmat was hustling the crowds, the people would see me and ask me what I was doing,”

“What are doing,” she rolled her eyes. “That’s how grown-up sisam ask where your parents are,”

“I always said that Tanigaki-nispa was my dad and when I walked up to him, he would take my hand with me asking,” he said. “Sometimes, I dream about him, and in my dreams, he’s my aca,”

“I think that’s why Ogata took your spot,” she said.

“Huh?” he frowned and sat up for another look over Inkarmat’s backside. “He’s always watching us, I hate him,”

“I don’t think Ogata-nispa ever had an aca,” she said.

“Well, he can’t have mine,” he snapped. “Give him Sugimoto,”

“I want them to like each other, but,” Asirpa sat up also. “Sugimoto’s the type of man that forgives but never forgets,”

“Inkarmat never forgets anything,” he whispered. “She can hear something once, and she’ll always remember it exactly,”

“—what?” when Inkarmat sat up, Cikapasi and Asirpa laid down and pretended to sleep.

She turned her attention to Tanigaki and after huffing a laugh, crawled over and forced herself between him and Ogata; there was no space to be had yet she somehow stuffed herself in tight.

Ogata emitted a disgruntled growl and sat up, scowling. He then mumbled before making a pillow of her ample backside.

“Those three need to get married already,” Asirpa whispered.

“I hope they do so I get a little brother,” Cikapasi said.

Her face soured, “What’s wrong with a sister?”

Chapter Text

Genjirou shuffled over the snow and entered the mercantile.

“Toilet?” he asked the shopkeep behind the counter.

The old man hitched up his thumb, “There’s a pail in the shed out back,”

“Thank you,” said Genjirou with a bow.

His bladder had needed emptying even before all the excitement with the Russian.

The shed was the size of four tatami, but at least the door closed. He pulled off a mitten and yanked the wooden latch. Inside, a naked thigh appeared in the line of light. It was attached to a pair of fur-lined boots. A strip of soiled white fabric peeked from the shadows followed by fingers spreading out upon the wood floor.

That hand anchored the arm of Ogata Hyakunosuke.

“Tanigaki!” Sugimoto appeared in the back door of the store. “What are you doing?”

Eyes flitted to the shed where a sallow skinned face fixed an eye upon him and a shivering finger rose to cracked lips.

“I need to piss,”

“Hurry up,” said Sugimoto. “Tsukishima wants to talk to this Russian, you got to help him upstairs,”

“Where’s Koito?”

Sugimoto shook his head, “Tsukishima wants you, Tanigaki,”

“Give me ten minutes,”

“That’s a hell of a lot to piss,” Sugimoto said.

Genjirou smiled, “You want me to fill a cup and bring it to you?”

“Just hurry up,” Sugimoto laughed.

He stepped within and closed the door behind him; he found comfort in the dark.

“What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t,” he said, teeth chattering.

“There’s a Russian sniper here that wants you dead,”

He huffed a laugh, “He’ll have to stand in line, won’t he Tanigaki?”

Genjirou pulled off his coat and removed the outer shirt he wore. Coat back on, he unlaced his boots and kicked them off before removing the second pair of socks from his feet. Pants past his knees, he spied Ogata reaching for the socks. When he stepped out of the long underwear given to him by the villagers, he found a watery eye gazing at his lower body.

“I missed you, Tanigaki,” he murmured.

“Get dressed,” Genjirou quickly stepped back into his discarded pants.

“I can’t steady my arms,” the tremors were noticeable as he pulled at his boot.

“You should’ve stayed put and recovered at that hospital,” Genjirou tore off the boots and slipped socks onto each of Ogata’s chilled feet.

“That doctor,” he stammered. “Sent a message to the army,”

“Explains our Russian friend,” Genjirou slid the foot holes of the pant legs over each of his feet. “I need you to grab onto me so I can stand you up,”

Ogata clutched his shoulders when Genjirou's hands took him under the arms.

Fingers grazed skin stretched over bones; the man weighed next to nothing. His breath was foul, his body stunk of urine and his hair reeked of sweat. The stale aroma of blood from under his bandage made Genjirou want to retch.

“Arms up,” he said, trying not to breath.

He aligned the neck hole of the shirt over Ogata’s crown as the man fell into him.

“Just hold me, Tanigaki,” Ogata mumbled against his chest.

Genjirou forced the pliable man’s arms up and pulled the shirt down.

A hand fell to his backside, “Tanigaki…”

“Don’t,” he begged, eyes averted.

Ogata locked his wrists around Genjirou’s neck.

“You used to wait for me in the washroom, remember Tanigaki?”

Memories of their time together after the war in Asahikawa made him light-headed. Unable to quell his feelings, he hugged the sniper tight and held him several moments before tears fell down his cheeks.

“I love you, Tanigaki,”

Suddenly, Ogata’s legs folded.

Genjirou quickly set him upon the floor and pressed two fingers against his throat. Relieved he felt aa pulse, he set Ogata up into a corner before urinating into the tin bucket beside him.

The door flew open.

“What the hell are you doing Tanigaki?” Koito stood there scowling.

“What does it sound like I’m doing?”

“Hurry it up,” Koito barked, slamming it shut.

Genjirou tapped it dry before tying his trousers up. He knelt down to where Ogata sat with his back against the wall and wiped a spot of urine from his cheek.

“I loved you too, Ogata,”

Chapter Text

This was his first time in a teahouse where there were doors on the booths.

On the air came the scent of baked sweets, and though full of patrons, he heard nothing beyond his own tiny dining room. Outside the frosted glass of the double doors, a shadowy figure appeared and when the right panel door swung open, the young man who’d seated him bowed and announced the arrival of his guest.

He was a tall Japanese man with a handsome face and the narrowest of beards along his jawline. His coat stripped from his shoulders revealed corded arms below the sleeve of his plain white-t. Hair peeked above the V-neck and gave a puffy texture to the front of his broad chest. Muscular thighs stretched the fabric of his tight dockers—

“Mister Ogata?” he tipped politely.

“Doctor Tanigaki?”

“Please,” he slid into the seat across from him. “Call me Mister Tanigaki,”

No way was this hard body a sex-surrogate.

“You appear uncomfortable,” he removed his wire-rimmed glasses and pulled out a journal and pen. “We can go somewhere else,”

“You’re not what I expected, Mister Tanigaki,”

Cheeks dimpled when he smiled, “What did you expect, Mister Ogata?”

“An old male nurse in rubber gloves,”

“I’m not a clinical therapist,” he said with a grin. “I’m a sexual surrogate employed by your therapist,”

“You’re going to have sex with me somewhere else, right?”

“Not day, Mister Ogata,”

“Why not today?”

“This is a consultation,”

“I was told this session would take an hour,”

Tanigaki nodded, “We’ve got an hour to see if I’m adequate enough for you,”

“You’re extremely adequate,” Hykanosuke nodded. “There’s a hotel across the street,”

“Sex doesn’t occur right after a consultation, Mister Ogata,” he said, hands on the table.

“When does it occur?”

Tanigaki cleared his throat, “How about you be polite and order us some tea,”

Hyakunosuke pushed the call button and ordered them a pot of wakoucha. It arrived in a glass pot with two sizable cups, a miniature can of condensed milk, and a bowl of sugar cubes.

“If we’re not boning today, what are we doing for an hour?”

“We’re going to discuss your problem and possible solutions,”

“You know what my problem is, Tanigaki?”

“Doctor Tsurumi reviewed your records with me-”

“—how many people in his office know about my problem?”

“Mister Ogata,” Tanigaki dropped five cubes of sugar into his cup. “No one knows about your issue other than Doctor Tsurumi and me,”

“Not comfortable with people knowing my cock is mentally twelve,”

“An immature penis?” Tanigaki tipped some milk into his tea and stirred it with his finger. “Is this how you define yourself sexually?”

“Premature ejaculator sounds too clinical,”

“You’re not a unicorn Mister Ogata,” he sucked the tea from his finger. “There are lots of men diagnosed as PE,”

“There are initials for it?”

Tanigaki’s deep chuckle was making him hard.

“Do you have a long-term partner that we’ll be working with?”

“No, I don’t have time for relationships,”

“When was the last time you had sex?”

“Friday afternoon during lunch,”

He paused, “A casual acquaintance?”

“I get my sex from hustlers, masseurs, and escorts,” Hyakunosuke looked into his rugged brown eyes. “They charge anywhere from 10,000 to 500,000 yen for anal, and I need it to last longer than five minutes,”

“Masturbation isn’t satisfying,” he said without missing a beat. “And you wish to be fiscally responsible,”

“Exactly. I refuse to take those blue pills. That numbing spray kills my boner,” Hyakunosuke relaxed. “I try thinking about ugly things while fucking. Eating mushrooms, being near dogs, singing karaoke, watching anime,”

Tanigaki’s eyes smiled above the rim of his teacup.

“I’ve tried hooking up with ugly lovers, thinking that would slow me down. This one escort, he had scars all over him, it was disgusting, but I couldn’t stop from shooting my load within 5 minutes,” said Hyakunosuke. “I hooked up with one man from Silver-Swords, wrinkled up bastard with long hair that finished me in 2 minutes. Then there was this ugly Judo master-”

“—Mister Ogata, choosing unattractive partners or thinking of nasty things during sex is no way to treat your low ejaculation threshold,” he said. “I think we can get you lasting longer with the proper therapy,”

“Can I be honest with you, Tanigaki?” Hyakunosuke leaned back and stretched out his arm over the seat top. “You’re the sexiest man I’ve seen in a long time and the minute you take off those clothes, I’ll be done,”

“We’re not having sex today, Mister Ogata,”

“Shouldn’t I prove to you that I have a problem?”

“I’ll take Dr. Tsurumi’s word for it,” said Tanigaki. “Is there anything you want to ask me?”

“Are you outraged that I fuck male whores?”

“Not at all,” he said. “Sex work is a legitimate career,”

“Have you ever hustled your mouth, or work the water trade?”

“I once tended bar at a gay club in Akita,” he said, thoughtfully. “I wasn’t a host or a dancer, I just wore tight little shorts and made drinks,”

“Do you still have those shorts, Tanigaki?”

“No, Mister Ogata,” Tanigaki grinned. “I wouldn’t fit in them now if I did,”

“Would you be willing to wear little shorts like that-”

“—Mister Ogata,” Tanigaki said. “Do you have any questions for me about your therapy?”

“I was told my therapy would be sexual,”

“It will be, just not today,” said Tanigaki.

“Can we talk about the actual sex involved,”

Tanigaki softened, “We’ll start with the squeeze method first,”

“Does that involve oral sex?”

“No, it’s what you would call a handjob,” said Tanigaki. “When you’re about to orgasm, I squeeze the head of your penis until you calm down enough to continue,”

“What if that doesn’t work?”

“Squeeze method doesn’t cure you,” Tanigaki said. “It’s a tool to build longevity,”

“You don’t look like the kind of man that could even spell longevity,”

Tanigaki knitted his brow, “Excuse me?”

“I’m sorry,” he forgot this wasn’t a whore. “You have this look about you that says you’re a country boy,”

Tanigaki’s eyes narrowed, and he said nothing.

“I insulted you,” he said. “I apologize, Tanigaki-”

“—After we’ve built up your longevity,” he said. “We’ll move into some start-and-stop therapy,”

“Does that involve oral sex?”

“It can if you want it too, Mister Ogata. Now our first four sessions will be about getting comfortable with each other,” he opened his notebook. “We’ll talk about your sex life, what turns you on, what turns you off, and after this we’ll begin the physical aspects of the therapy,”

“We aren’t doing the squeeze next time?”

“Coital therapy won’t begin for another four to six sessions,” he said. “Will this be a problem, Mister Ogata?”

“Can we have those talking sessions naked?”

“I think it’s best I remained clothed, Mister Ogata," he said.

“Can you wear those tight little shorts, Tanigaki?”

 

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