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reese’s cup s’mores

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At first glance, Koko finds him pretty. That crossdresser sitting at the far end of the bar, he’s pretty. Bright blue eyes framed by long lashes. Long, sunflower-blonde hair cascades down to the shoulders. Pale skin with a touch of strawberry mark over his left eye. Light blue evening dress, glittering in the light, makes the hard edges around the body soft. Those thin lips are painted in red, glossy, shiny. Koko’s tongue flicks out a little, tempted.

 

If it wasn’t because of the bar owner, Mitsuya’s generosity to share the truth with Koko—Inupi, the nickname—Koko would’ve thought Inupi was a she.

 

“Here,” Mitsuya-kun thrusts a drink in Koko’s direction. When he’s given a raised brow from Koko, Mitsuya supplies, “From Inupi. As I said, your staring isn’t very subtle.” 

 

Koko doesn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed after getting caught staring, emboldened by alcohol in his system. Nonetheless, he still has his manners, so Koko raises his glass and ducks his head a little as a gesture of gratitude. Then he downs the drink in one go.

 

The liquid burns down his throat. It’s petty compared to the burn on his cheeks when Koko catches an amused smile on Inupi’s face.

 

 

 

 

Second glance, well, yes, Koko finds Inupi pretty still. Perhaps it has something to do with the alcohol fucking with his brain, or the searing kisses across his heated skin. Either way, none of it matters because his senses are overwhelmed by Inupi’s wandering fingers and warm breaths. Koko sucks in a breath when he feels the wall behind him, crowded and pinned by Inupi’s hungry gaze, blue glinting in the dark. That look shoots arousal straight to Koko’s dick.

 

A hand sneaks into Koko’s pants. Grabs his hard cock, fueled by alcohol and hot kisses. And Koko instinctively pushes into the touch. “...fuck.”

 

“I know.”

 

That deep voice, oh, wow, does a thing to his dick. Clutching those bare upper arms tightly, Koko holds back on his moans, aware of their surroundings, as the fist pistons up and down his length. A pair of lips latches onto the column of his neck, and Koko lets Inupi. He lets Inupi press wet kisses along his flesh. He lets Inupi control their pace. Koko lets himself lose in the flick of Inupi’s wrist, hot and needy and wanton and—

 

“Come.”

 

That one command pushes Koko over the edge, and he spurts in Inupi’s fist. Takes him everything to bite back on his moan before he sags in Inupi’s hold. Warm breaths cloud around his face, and they kick his brain back online, only to remind him of Inupi’s state. Koko looks down at the dress.

 

Hah. Figured.

 

“You don’t have to,” Inupi says, but the hand on Koko’s jaw says otherwise. Inupi doesn’t resist either when Koko drops to his knees and yanks the dress up. A hypocrite bastard.

 

“Hard from jerking me off? I’m flattered,” Koko smirks, curling his fingers around the dripping cock. That earns him an almost quiet hiss from Inupi. Good reaction, he likes it.

 

Inupi sinks fingers into his dark hair. “Can’t help it. You’re hot.”

 

“Thanks, I guess.” Koko gives the cock a stroke or two, then closes his lips around the tip. A grunt from above clues him in Inupi’s pleasure, so he gets onto the programme. 

 

Can’t say he dislikes its weight. Its size and length are just perfect for filling his mouth. Touches his soft palate just right. Hits his throat in the way he likes. And the sounds; muffled moans and shuddering sighs from above as though Inupi is having the time of his life. The grip in his hair, not too tight, not too loose, just enough to remind Koko of the quiet but impressive presence. Allows Koko freedom to some degree.

 

Frankly, Koko wouldn’t mind sucking on Inupi’s cock all day long if he was given a chance.

 

“Hey,” Inupi breathes heavily, “I’m gonna come.”

 

Koko arches his brow as if saying ‘So?’

 

A strained grin on Inupi’s pretty face is a hint enough. Inupi gets the message just fine. Inupi hisses, “You’re a fucking menace,” and begins to guide him with the hand on the back of Koko’s hand. Slow and deep that the tip hits the back of Koko’s throat before he quickens the pace. Eager to please the beaut, Koko relaxes his muscles and lets Inupi fuck his throat to the heart’s content regardless of his discomfort.

 

Inupi yanks him away from the cock just in time before cum sprays down Koko’s throat, which Koko greatly appreciates. Some land across his lips, the rest on the ground. Slightly disgusted, Koko wipes it clean with the back of his hand, and lifts his gaze upward to meet Inupi’s eyes.

 

Flushed face, with some strands of hair matted on the sweaty forehead, pink shiny lips turned swollen, and that wrinkled dress—yeah, Koko reaches his conclusion for the third time that night.

 

Inupi is pretty.

 

 

 

Inupi offers him his number. 

 

It sits untouched in his contact list for two weeks.

 

 

 

 

One of these days, he’s gonna murder Sanzu in his sleep. Fuck that guy for dumping his clients on him at short notice. The only excuse he got from that asshole before he went on a vacation was, “It’s my and Rin’s anniversary! You won’t get it ‘cause you’ve been single like what, five years now?”

 

That loud “Fuck you!” was completely justified.

 

For two weeks, Koko buries himself in a stack of substation blueprints and a dozen of Redbulls. His Macbook has been cranky lately; sign of the times, or upgrades, whatever. His boss, Takeomi has been texting him if he has received a full report on the damaged DF in Fukuoaka, which he hasn’t because that investigation team is shitty. He also has to rerun through the calculations on the 12-chome blueprints—stupid architects and their ambitions, physics was taught at school for a reason, dipshit.

 

Stupid colleagues, stupid Macbook, stupid boss, stupid team, stupid architects; suffice to say, his days haven’t been great.

 

The moment the clock hits eight, Koko storms out of his office. Clocks out on the thumbprint scanner. Ignores the garbled goodbye from some ladies, but he’s polite enough to bow at the janitor. Never be an asshole to essential workers, his aunt drilled that into his brain.

 

Friday night means a lively city. The streets are alive with nightlife activities; teenagers hanging out with their circles, ladies dissolving into giggles, men barking laughter as if they own the street. Urgh, noise pollution, Koko thinks. Annoyed, he wanders into another street, bright with neon lights and loud with booming music, and finds Mitsuya’s bar.

 

To Koko’s exhausted and stressed mind, Mitsuya’s bar is a haven of peace and tranquility. The establishment was designed to match Mitsuya’s vibes; elegant and exclusive. With its moody lighting, gilded copper bar, suede chairs, leather banquette, ‘The Babylon’ seems like it was plucked from the 1980s. 

 

“Oh, hey,” Hakkai, one of the bartenders, greets him, “You were gone for quite some time. I thought you’d stopped coming.”

 

“Busy. The usual, please,” Koko sighs, settling on the stool. 

 

“You sure it wasn’t because of Inupi?”

 

That perks his curiosity up. Koko gives him a puzzled look. “Inupi?”

 

“She asked about you a couple of times. Wondered why you didn’t show up.”

 

Oh, that—no, Koko isn’t sure what to make of this new information. One thing he’s sure of; he didn’t expect Inupi to ask around. They aren’t close enough to be acquaintances—that impromptu blowjob in the alley doesn’t count. All he knows is Inupi’s name and number.

 

—ah, perhaps that was it. Of course Inupi would have asked around when Koko dropped off the radar after getting the number. No contact, not even a ‘hi’ would’ve wounded someone’s pride. Well, shit. He does owe Inupi an apology and a proper explanation.

 

“I was busy,” Koko defends, “Where’s Inupi?”

 

Hakkai places a cold drink in front of Koko, “Not sure. She’s late tonight.”

 

Curling his fingers around the cold glass, Koko accepts the answer with a small nod. Then he waits.

 

It isn’t until an hour later Inupi stumbles into the bar. Not alone, though. Inupi is with someone; a guy with an impressive height and body. Sharp, dark eyes, and long, dark hair. Koko’s eyes, though, are instantly drawn towards the dragon tattoo on his scalp. When he calls Hakkai’s name, his deep voice reverberates in the room. Oh, wow, that voice, it screams Alpha, indeed. Enough to draw attention from other males.

 

“Oh, Draken-kun!” Hakkai beams.

 

“Mitsuya?”

 

“At the back. Go ahead.”

 

“Thanks,” and the Draken guy struts away as though the bar belongs to him.

 

The moment he disappears, Koko’s gaze returns to Inupi at the far end of the bar. Oh, the outfits are rather simple tonight, Koko notes; a sleeveless turtleneck, nude pencil skirt and black boots. Light makeups as well if those light pink lips and natural-colored eyeshadows are indications. The fancy sun necklace around the neck seems to be the point of Inupi’s outfits tonight. Nevertheless, when Inupi lifts those blue eyes beneath the curtain of long lashes, with the light cast overhead, they glint in the shadow like precious sapphires.

 

Stunning.

 

From Inupi’s occasional glances, Koko knows Inupi is aware of his presence. Of his obvious staring, and yet Koko doesn’t make a move to offer an apology or initiate a conversation. He’s never been the initiator type, after all. So he stays in his seat nursing his drink like a loser whose tongue is tied by cowardice.

 

A hand covers the mouth of his fourth drink. Koko’s exhausted gaze slides across the pale arm to the face. Ah, Inupi. His lips are lopsided into a lazy grin. “Hey, there.”

 

“You don’t have subtlety registered in your dictionary, do you?” Inupi asks.

 

Ah, the staring. Koko huffs a laugh. “Gotta make sure your boyfriend doesn’t ambush me. He looks scary.”

 

“Boyfriend?”

 

“That tall guy.”

 

“Draken? Nah, he’s my boss.”

 

Koko wrinkles his nose. “You go to the gay bar with your boss? That’s suspicious.”

 

“It’s Friday night. We’ve been working together long enough to hang out as friends,” Inupi shrugs, “He’s head over heels with his wife. They’re expecting.”

 

The explanation, pretty sure Inupi didn’t have to elaborate much. They aren’t even acquaintances. Still, Koko says, “I’ll be sure to congratulate him when he returns, then.”

 

“Rather,” Inupi steals his drink and says, “Would you like to explain why you disappeared on me?”

 

That tone, that piercing gaze, even those body gestures; they demand his answer. Koko’s heart thumps like crazy in the confine of his ribcage. His palms are clammy. Shivers run down his spine. And yet years of dealing with clients have taught him to perfect that poker face. Easily dip into it at any conveniences. 

 

“Busy,” he says.

 

Inupi raises a brow. “Busy?”

 

“Busy,” and that’s the truth. Whether Inupi believes him or not, it’s none of his business. “You stole my drink,” he points out.

 

Inupi raps the knuckles on the counter. “What are you gonna do about it?”

 

A smirk splits Koko’s face into halves. “Oh, I demand compensation.”

 

 

 

 

It was indeed the best idea he’d ever suggested.

 

The bruising grip on his hips, the thrusts, the hot breaths against the nape of his neck, the growl in his ears, the swinging necklace, they all drive Koko crazy. Mind hazy from pleasure and alcohol, he can only take and take and take all the pounding while he braces his arms against the door.

 

“Aren’t you easy,” Inupi hisses, “All it took was one drink and you spread your legs like a whore. What if it was another man, would you have let him fuck you over a stolen drink too? Would you have let him do this to you?”

 

Hah. Koko sticks out his tongue playfully, “What would you do if the answer was yes? I’ve been gone for quite some time, haven’t I? My hole felt lonely.”

 

A click of the tongue. Before he knows it, Inupi slams hard into him straight at his prostate. A loud moan rips from his throat, and a hand slaps over his mouth. Inupi growls, “Too fucking loud. Someone’s gonna hear you.”

 

That thought of having someone catch him getting fucked silly, of Inupi getting furious at his little teasing, fuck, a rush of pleasure swirls down his lower gut, and Koko clenches around Inupi. He can feel Inupi tense up behind him, and a second later, the thrusts become rougher. 

 

“Jerk yourself.”

 

A simple command, but Koko is more than ready to oblige. He closes his fingers around his dripping cock and strokes. It doesn’t match Inupi’s pace, but whatever, fuck it, Koko is desperate to come. The arousal coils tight in his gut, tighter when Inupi hits that particular spot inside him. The last straw is the teeth on the nape of his neck, chomping down so suddenly that it takes Koko by surprise, and he comes in his fist.

 

Takes him a moment to come down from his high and regulates his breathing. Koko feels Inupi pull out of him. Glances over his shoulder with hooded eyes. He sees Inupi’s hard cock, covered in a wet condom. 

 

...right.

 

Exhausted but determined, Koko turns around, pushes Inupi down on the toilet lid and drops to his knees.

 

“Hey,” Inupi says, voice strained, but Koko ignores that. He plucks the wet condom off the cock and wraps his lips around it. Instantly, Inupi takes a fistful of his hair, with a hiss.

 

Maybe Inupi has been on the edge for quite some time. It only takes Koko some sucking at the right angles and stroking on the base of the cock to make Inupi come. He can’t pull back in time, so some get caught in his mouth while the rest lands across his face.

 

Urgh, sticky. Koko doesn’t mind much, though, basking in the afterglow. He leans into Inupi’s thigh. Feels the cock go limp in his hold. And watches the bright color in those eyes dim a little.

 

“...pretty.”

 

An amused smile stretches across Inupi’s lips. “You’re pretty gone, aren’t you.”

 

Stupid alcohol, stupid mouth, stupid exhaustion, stupid mouth filter, but Koko can’t find in him to be ashamed of himself. Not after that good fuck. He doesn’t even protest when Inupi wipes his face with the tissues, bone-tired. “Kinda. Sleepy too.”

 

“I didn’t peg you as a cuddly type after sex.”

 

“Am not. Tired. Busy weeks. Stupid work.”

 

“Busy weeks?”

 

“Yep. Toldja I was busy, remember?”

 

“Oh,” Inupi blinks. Then pulls Koko to his feet. Helps with his clothes to look more presentable before Inupi fixes the skirt properly. “Wanna crash at my place? It’s just around the block.”

 

A goofy smile tugs on Koko’s lips. “Once ain’t enough for ya? Am I that charming?”

 

“So you can sleep, silly. You look like a walking zombie.”

 

Oh, right, that. Sleep. A good thing. He can do that. Yep, definitely. Sleeping is indeed a good thing. With that thought lingering on his mind, Koko falls into step behind Inupi. And pointedly ignores Hakkai’s raised brow when he catches them leaving the restroom together.

 

 

 

 

He wakes up to a delicious scent. Cracking an eye open, Koko tries to scan his surroundings. ‘Try’ is the keyword because he has very poor eyesight, whereupon without contact lenses or glasses, he’s almost as blind as a bat. He vaguely remembers he has a pair stashed in his office bag, so Koko reaches over the side of the bed, blindly pawing around for his bag.

 

“Looking for something?” A voice says.

 

Koko squints. “Bag. Glasses. Can’t see shit.”

 

He hears a rustle and something is placed in his palm. Oh, glasses. Koko puts them on, blinks a few times to get used to the brightness, and stares at the person sitting on the bed next to him. First, Koko sees that angular-shaped face, with a scar covering the left eye. Then his gaze slides down to those  short lashes, chapped lips, broad shoulders before it settles on the bare chest. The pants ride so low on his hips that Koko can see the boxers’ brand peeking out. 

 

Then his eyes return to the hair tied low around the nape. The color, sunflower-blonde—oh.

 

“Inupi?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Oh, wow.”

 

“‘Oh wow’? Why, disappointed that I’m a real guy without those makeups on?”

 

“I was sure I rode a real cock last night, not a strapon,” Koko snorts falling back to the pillow. Stretches the kinks out of his body. “Just… you don’t look too different from what I imagined.”

 

“How did you imagine me?”

 

“Pretty,” Koko says before he can stop himself. A blush rises to his cheeks unbidden. Bashful of words pouring out of his mouth.

 

Surprise takes over Inupi’s impassive expression. Then a small smile pulls across his face. “You blurt out whatever is on your mind, don’t you? Like a brat. I appreciate the honesty, though.”

 

“Blame that on alcohol. And the lack of caffeine in my body,” Koko buries his face in his palms, “I need coffee before this dysfunctional mouth filter of mine destroys any shred of dignity left in me. Two coffees so I can function like a proper human.”

 

“A demanding brat at that,” Inupi sighs.

 

“I’m your guest. Please be a good host and treat me well,” Koko sticks out his tongue.

 

Inupi makes a face. “Piss off. Go wash up before I finish all your coffee myself. You’ll find a new toothbrush in the bathroom.”

 

“Evil. You hold my coffee hostage. There’s a special place in hell reserved for the likes of you.” Nonetheless, Koko rolls out of bed. And laughs when Inupi flashes a middle finger at him.

 

It’s a homey 1-room unit, Koko observes. The tv is installed on the wall and strategically placed across the coffee table and sofa bed. Under the tv is a console game and speakers. The kitchen is moderately equipped, enough to cater one person. The walls have bike posters and polaroid pictures plastered on like some kind of collages. The largest furniture Koko finds is the wardrobe, undoubtedly filled to the brim with clothes. At the entrance, the shoe racks stack up so high they almost reach the ceiling.

 

When Koko returns to the living room, the sofa bed has been pulled back and breakfast is ready on the table. Sunny-side egg, sausages and bread, a very decent and welcome breakfast, but the one that puts a grin on Koko’s face is the coffee. “Mine?”

 

Seated on the sofa, Inupi nods, sipping on his own coffee while he scrolls down his phone.

 

“Thanks,” Koko settles down on the floor. He cups the mug carefully as if it’s a goblet filled with precious potion. In a way, yes, it’s indeed a precious potion for his brain, and two sips of the coffee are enough to kick his brain back fully online. “Good grief. This is good.”

 

“Think it’s a good exchange for your number?” Inupi asks.

 

“I have your number, though?” Koko blinks.

 

“You ghosted me for two weeks. Might as well I text you first before you disappear on me again.”

 

Geez, that guilty trip. Koko attempts to hide behind the mug. Pretty sure that doesn’t work well, but whatever. “Sorry about that. Life got in the way.”

 

“You said that last night too. Your apology is accepted,” Inupi smiles, “So, number?”

 

Truly a cool guy. But then Koko’s urge to tease comes back in a huge wave. Koko can’t help it. It’s amusing to catch that small twitch on Inupi’s thick brows when he has that default bitch-resting face the entire time. “I’m not sure. Not an equivalent exchange, I think. Breakfast is part of the service of being a good host.”

 

Inupi stares. Then grips onto the mouth of Koko’s mug. “No coffee, then.”

 

“—wait, don’t! Issa joke, issa joke!!! Yes, yes, I’m giving you my number. Don’t take my coffee away. My precious!” Koko desperately holds onto his coffee without spilling any. Geez, for a guy with a delicate look, Inupi sure has a deathly grip.

 

“Okay,” and Inupi lets go of the coffee.

 

See, physics exists everywhere in the world. In the air in the form of gaseous, on the ground in the form of gravity, even in the motion, it exists in the form of inertia. The lack of the opposite force from Inupi’s strength disrupts the balance in the motion force, and yes, Koko can see what is coming next in slow motion. The extra force from Koko to yank the mug back to his side causes Koko to topple back like a sack of potatoes with a loud yelp, and the coffee spills all over his face.

 

“Shit—” Inupi rushes forward, panicked. “Hey, hey, you good?”

 

Koko frowns at his empty mug. “Damn, wasted a good coffee. My shirt is all dirty too.”

 

“Sorry about that. I’ll make you another coffee. You can borrow my shirt too,” Inupi offers out of guilt.

 

Hah. As if Koko wasn’t raised as an opportunist. He’ll seize it when presented with one. Koko licks his bottom lip suggestively. Tastes coffee on his lip. “I demand compensation.”

 

Inupi’s brow quirks up. “Which is?”

 

“Wash my hair for me?”

 

Silence. Then a sigh escapes Inupi. “You’re truly a demanding, spoiled brat.”

 

That wasn’t a ‘no’, right?

 

 

 

 

For once, Koko is grateful for the small bathroom. He doesn’t even need to stage accidental brushes to rile Inupi up. Fuck it, Inupi probably doesn’t need any coaxing if his impatient, eager fingers on Koko’s ass are the hints.

 

Arms around Inupi’s shoulders and one leg around Inupi’s hip, Koko tightens every time Inupi fucks him just right against the wall under the pouring shower. His pleasure builds faster and faster and faster, intensified by the echoes of his loud moan and slapping skin. Koko feels teeth on his collarbone, digging into his skin, deep. The friction on his cock against their bellies makes his toes curl. He can’t even stand straight, balance disrupted by Inupi’s thrusts.

 

“I—”

 

One pounding, no, two pounding at that bundle of nerves inside of him have Koko climaxing between their bellies, followed by Inupi spilling into the condom in his ass a second later. His nails dig into Inupi’s upper arms, still drunk on the haze of pleasure, overwhelmed as Inupi rides out his orgasm before pulling out. Koko sighs. Damn, that was really a good fuck.

 

When Inupi pulls away from his collarbone, Koko is met with the sight of water dripping down Inupi’s lashes. They aren’t as long as the ones Koko saw on their first encounter, but they’re noticeable enough. Enough for Koko to marvel at the bright color of those blue eyes accentuated by the water droplets. 

 

Like the moon reflected on the lake.

 

Koko looks away, “We need food,” because if he didn’t, he would’ve blurted out pretty again. That would be embarrassing as fuck.

 

“Agreed,” Inupi releases him with a sigh.

 

 

 

Because Sanzu is an asshole, he doesn’t even bother knocking on Koko’s door when he ambushes Koko with a question, “Yo, Koko, you got the blueprints for 20-chome? I can’t find them.”

 

Spinning his chair around, Koko brings his phone close to his lips. “550 220 to 220 44, right? Slapped in the middle of the city? Nah, I don’t have them. Go ask Mochi. He’s in charge of the indoor ones. Might have to inform him a few days prior for a meeting, tho. He’s been running around like a headless chicken compiling the tender details.”

 

“Pencil him in for me?” Sanzu grimaces.

 

“Piss,” Koko points a finger at Sanzu’s face, “Off,” and swipes it to the left as though he’s on Tinder or something.

 

“For the love of—” Sanzu snaps but recovers just as fast, exasperated, “Help a brother out?”

 

“We’re not even brothers. Ask Takeomi—he’s your real brother. Cut that family drama spiel. Also,” Koko pauses for dramatic effect. Then says, “You dumped two clients on me.”

 

“I had to do it!”

 

“For a vacation.”

 

“Rin’s happiness is my everything. If he wanted a vacation, he’d get one! His wish is my command.”

 

Koko wrinkles his nose. “Too bad I’m not head over heels with your Rin. Hence, no to your request. Now, walk away. Go, go, go, go.”

 

“Geez, you’re cold,” Sanzu folds his arms over his chest, “Oh, Kakucho told me that you’ve been… glowing recently. Did something good happen?” he says, though, that tone is close to accusing—that bastard.

 

“None of your business.”

 

“As someone who’s been enduring your pathetic ass for twelve years, I think it’s my business,” Sanzu says, “Last time you glowed, you fell for hook, line and sinker. I almost couldn’t pull you outta hole when you found out that hoe cheated on you.”

 

Ah, that old story. He heard she moved to Kanagawa and had a baby. Call him a sap or whatever, learning the fact she’s with a child puts Koko at peace with their bad breakup. Not to mention, Sanzu holds enough grudge against her for them both. Can’t blame Sanzu, though, he was there watching Koko bleed to pick up the broken pieces.

 

Anyway, he isn’t about to go mushy in front of this little shit, so Koko smirks, “Aw, you do love me, Sanzu.”

 

“Urgh, disgusting,” Sanzu twists his face, annoyed.

 

A notification pings his phone. Koko reads the text, then springs to his feet. He puts on the coat draped over the chair. At Sanzu’s puzzled glance, Koko offers, “I’m leaving. You know where the door is, you can walk yourself out. Don’t forget to switch off the lights.”

 

“Going home?”

 

Koko sticks out his tongue, “Off to the derm for my glowing treatment. Peace out,” and skips out of the office.

 

It’s not difficult to find Inupi in the crowded street. Koko only needs to locate a stream of awed whispers, and after a minute of searching he sees Inupi near a bookstore. Clad in a pastel summer cardigan and long skirt, paired with a white handbag, Inupi looks like a goddess from heaven. No wonder it has some people turning their heads around. 

 

One thing Koko notices instantly, though, is that Inupi is wearing a pair of flat sandals instead of heels. Huh.

 

“Hey,” Koko calls.

 

“Hey,” Inupi says, almost inaudible. Inupi looks up at the building Koko just exited, with a small embarrassed smile, “Some fine company you work for. Out of my league.”

 

“It’s an alright company,” Koko says dismissively. “Shall we go? I’m famished.”

 

“After you.”

 

Koko brings Inupi to the soba restaurant frequented by his office mates for its rich flavors and affordable prices—whoever claims engineering is equivalent to high pay should be kicked in the ass because no. They choose a table in the corner, away from prying eyes at Inupi’s insistence. The chef greets and laughs too loud but his cooking compensates for that, so Koko thinks that’s cool.

 

“How do you maintain that body when you eat like a pig?” Inupi raises the brow at the stack of bowls on Koko’s side.

 

A common question. Ran suspects he’s diabetic despite his clean medical records. Kakucho thinks he keeps a black hole in his stomach. Sanzu—well, that bastard said some gross stuff, so Koko isn’t going to recall that. He slurps the rest of the noodles and says, “Thinking requires energy. I think a lot. Also, sex is a good exercise.”

 

“Can’t deny that. You’re quite insatiable,” Inupi sounds amused.

 

“I have a great sex partner.”

 

“Flattering,” Inupi sips on the cold drink.

 

“What makes you so confident I was talking about you?” Koko wriggles his brow.

 

“Your moans. Your wrecked voice. The way your eyes glaze over every time I fuck you right. The way you clench my cock so tight as if you want me to stay inside you forever,” Inupi says, and damn, that sends a thrill down Koko’s spine, turned on by the memory of their fucking. Inupi’s eyes dance in mirth, pleased to see Koko’s fist tightens around the chopsticks, “Yes, I’m quite confident you were talking about me.”

 

“The mouth on you. I wonder if their restroom is available,” Koko sighs.

 

“I’m not fucking you here,” Inupi takes a mouthful of soba.

 

A strangled noise escapes Koko, frustrated. He pouts, “Why.”

 

“We’re having dinner. A boy and girl on a cute date. I’m not going to ruin that by fucking you in the restroom. People are going to talk.”

 

Huh. Those unnecessary concerns are a major turn off. It’d be better if Inupi simply wanted to enjoy a quiet dinner. Koko rests his cheek in his palm, disinterested. “Is that why you chose to sit in the corner, or why you keep lowering your voice every time someone walks by? Are you worried people are going to find out you’re a guy?”

 

“No, I don’t care what people think of me. I care what people think of you,” Inupi blinks gullibly, “People are going to talk about you too when they find out you are hanging out with a crossdresser. Been there, done that. It wasn’t pretty.”

 

“Gee, thanks, but really, don’t,” Koko huffs. He shoves a gyoza into his mouth, no two gyozas, “If you aren’t comfortable with people finding out you’re a crossdresser, that’s okay, I can respect that. But if you hold yourself back on my account, then don’t. I don’t need your protection.”

 

“People can be mean,” Inupi reminds, concerned.

 

“Sanzu has been mean towards me for over ten years and I’m still alive, so I think I can survive that,” Koko keeps chewing on gyoza—uh oh, he’s eaten them all—and orders for another plate, then turns to the radish slices, “You do you, wear whatever you want, even the tallest high-heels you have in your collection, I don’t care. I can take care of myself. People can shove their shitty opinions up their asses for all I care.”

 

That rapid blinking seems to clear some worry away from Inupi’s bright blue eyes. As if he’s been struck by realization. Then that face breaks into a gentle, fond smile. “You’re so smooth with your words. You’re going to break some fragile hearts one day.”

 

“My past relationships disagree,” Koko winces. Cheers when a new plate of gyozas is placed on the table by the waiter.

 

“Their loss,” Inupi says, “I see you’ve been stress-eating.”

 

“I like eating.”

 

“Better than sex?”

 

Koko feigns insulted, “Hey, don’t compare those two together. It’s unfair.”

 

 

 

 

you got a bike? -k

 

yeah -i

yamaha rz350 -i

 

that’s so cool -k

 

For a minute or two, there are no replies from Inupi. Koko immerses himself in the calculations. Swings by the pantry for a coffee. Entertains Ran; “Is it too much of me to ask if I can tag along, Koko?” to which Koko answers, annoyed, “Stop third-wheeling their date. For fuck’s sake, Ran, Rin’s 27!”

 

His phone vibrates in his pocket. Koko reads the text.

 

wanna go for a ride this weekend? -i

 

His thumb quickly types, “Yes.”

 

 

 

 

It’s an hour-ride to the beach. Koko ended up sleeping in, so they began the small journey in the late evening. Probably for the best because Koko gets to enjoy the sunset along the ride. The sun hangs low on the horizon, just above the sea. The sky is painted in cranberry red, with hints of purple here and there. The clouds imitate cotton candies, almost pink and orange from the light refraction. The breeze carries the salty scent from the sea. Koko has to brush his dark hair away from his eyes, mussed by the wind.

 

Pretty.

 

Riding in that long skirt, a blouse and a pair of boots—practical but fashionable, nonetheless—Inupi looks badass. Enough to draw attention from passer-bys on the beach when Inupi parks the bike. Koko smothers his smirk in his fist. After all, it’s quite an unusual sight to find a delicate-looking person riding an RZ350.

 

“Too bad we can’t swim,” Koko whines.

 

“We could’ve if you didn’t sleep in.”

 

“It’s Saturday.”

 

“Sure,” Inupi agrees drily. 

 

That deadpanned look, Koko can’t decide whether he should feel insulted or amused by that expression. His gaze darts to Inupi’s left eye. An old scar, it seems, mellowed into a splotchy shade, slightly pinker than the skin tone, taut and dry around the edges. Curiosity is on the tip of his tongue, but Koko holds himself back out of respect. Perhaps the scar holds a trauma.

 

Inupi is sharp, though. Can sense Koko’s sudden interest in the scar. Inupi smiles, “Eye-catching, yes? The scar.”

 

Koko averts his gaze away. “It’s… unusual.”

 

“I’m aware. Hard not to stare.”

 

“What happened?” Then Koko backtracks, worried if he crosses the line, “You don’t have to tell me, tho.”

 

“Fire accident. Killed my sister.”

 

Koko is lost for words. He expected a tragedy, yes, but the last part, no, he didn’t intend to open an old wound. He opens his mouth. Closes it shut. Then tries to offer some sort of condolences even though he’s unused to this kind of conversation, “I’m, uh, sorry. I didn’t know. I imagine she was a great person.”

 

“That she was,” Inupi smiles that wistful smile. Blue eyes hold a faraway look, memories of a time gone before they flicker back to the present. Inupi turns around and walks down the sandy stairs. “Come along. We can dip our feet in the water.”

 

Koko huffs a small laugh, “What are we, a couple?” Even so, he follows through, kicking his sandals away and folding up his pants while Inupi takes off those boots. He waits until Inupi steps into the water first, then only he joins Inupi. The waves break gently around his ankles into white foam. The water feels warm against his skin.

 

“We can be one,” Inupi says, “If you want.”

 

Oh, Koko thinks. His heart skips a beat. Another when he understands Inupi’s context. He stares into Inupi’s eyes, blue stained by glowing red. Stares at the tips of Inupi’s sunflower-blonde hair, aflame with orange and yellow. Down at the bundle of skirt in Inupi’s fist so the skirt doesn’t get wet. At the ankles where the waves caress them with swirling salty kisses.

 

And swallows the bile in his throat.

 

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay too,” Inupi assures.

 

That snaps his head back up. There’s a smile on Inupi’s face. Koko tries to search in those eyes, but they betray nothing. Only kindness and understanding. That makes him feel compelled to explain, to wrangle the words out of his tight throat, to get his message across—

 

—to abate the guilt in his chest—

 

“I’m, uh,” Koko manages, “Comfortable with what we’re having now.”

 

“I know,” that smile doesn’t waver. Inupi says, “Me too.”

 

The guilt thickens.

 

 

 

 

Inupi is both gentle and cruel that night. Drives Koko up to the edge with sweet whispers and precise thrusts, only to deny his release by pulling out of him. So, so cruel. It’s like he is finally on the last step of the stairs, ready to fall over to the other side, only to have the last step vanish beneath his feet.

 

Koko loses track of time, brain fogged by pleasure and desperation. He gazes unseeing across the hotel room, too far gone. A hand snakes up from his throat to his chin, tipping his face away from the pillow. Strands of sunflower-blonde hair brush across Koko’s flushed cheeks. Glinting, bright blue eyes yank Koko out of his fog, and he finally—finally—sees Inupi.

 

“With me still?” Inupi’s breath fans across his heated skin.

 

His throat bobs against Inupi’s calloused palm. “Ple...ase.”

 

“Please what.” Inupi’s hard cock slips between his ass, the tip teasing around the slippery rim, and Koko chokes on his moan.

 

“...lemme come.”

 

A huff of a breath, then Koko is flipped over to his back. Faced with Inupi, then only his foggy mind registers their state; Inupi is still very much clothed, in skirt and blouse while there’s no strands of thread on his being. The piercing gaze reminds him of a goddess assessing the sacrifice before devouring them whole. Shame crawls under Koko’s skin at the thought, brewing with the arousal in his lower gut.

 

Getting between Koko’s spread legs, Inupi drapes the skirt over Koko’s stomach. He can’t see but he can feel Inupi’s cock lining up against his hole, and an impatient whine tears from Koko’s throat.

 

“I know,” Inupi smiles, running a palm up Koko’s thigh, and then pushes back in.

 

No slow pace this time, Koko is already loose from the fucking prior. Inupi fucks him hard and quick, punching an ‘ah, ah, ah’ out of him. He notices the pink flush on Inupi’s cheeks and feels his own heart rate increase, his own breathing become heavier. He wants to—needs to.

 

—those thin lips, shiny from lipgloss—

 

Instead, Koko bites his own fist to stifle his noises. Another sneaks under the skirt, stroking his neglected cock, not in tandem to Inupi’s thrusts because he’s fucking desperate. The pleasure builds up once again, creeping up his spine as Inupi fucks him deeper. Maybe this time—maybe Inupi is merciful enough to allow him to come.

 

A hand stops his moving wrist, and Inupi pulls out—again. Koko whines pitifully, pathetically, hopelessly crashing down from his high.

 

“...why?” Koko is so close to tearing up. His cock is so hard it’s painful. He wants to sob. Wants to scream.

 

Inupi—that shit—hauls him up effortlessly, strength hidden behind the delicate mask. Koko finds himself in Inupi’s lap, with that cock poking between his asscheeks. His dark hair spills onto Inupi’s face. Warm hands glide up his sweaty back, one column of the spine at a time. Feels Inupi’s heartbeat beneath his palm. Inupi looks up at him, blue eyes glimmering in the moonlight, and Koko feels Inupi’s breath against his skin. That sheen of the lipgloss on those lips begs to be licked off, and Koko’s tongue darts out, tempted.

 

...pretty.

 

Sliding his eyes closed, Koko rests his forehead on Inupi’s. Sniffles once. And begs, “...Please.”

 

He can feel Inupi’s smile against his throat. Then hears, “Fuck yourself on my cock. Let’s see if you deserve to come.”

 

Okay, he can do that. No. He has to do that. Determined despite his trembling hand, Koko guides Inupi’s cock to his twitching entrance. Then slams down, with a gasp and a thought of ‘Ah, here we go again.’

 

 

 

 

The next morning, Inupi spoils him rotten. 

 

But that smile. It doesn’t reach those blue eyes.

 

 

 

The pantry is already occupied by Kakucho and Mochi when Koko decides it’s coffee time. Funny enough, Koko is greeted with the sight of a muffler on Kakucho’s ears while the man folds his arms over his chest, glaring at the coffee pot on the round table like it’s done him terribly wrong. Koko raises a brow and asks Mochi, “What’s up with him?”

 

Kakucho’s glare is directed at him now. Koko blinks.

 

“Not too loud,” Mochi whispers, “Circuit breaker test. Missed the timing. His ears are still ringing,” Mochi sips on his hot chocolate. Sweet things in the morning, urgh, a mochi indeed.

 

“Ouch,” Koko winces, settling down on the chair.

 

Ran walks through the door, pauses when he sees Koko, and pokes his head back out, “Yo, Sanzu, Koko’s here! Kaku and Mochi, too!!” 

 

This time, Kakucho shoots a glare at the back of Ran’s head.

 

Uh oh, that sounds suspicious. Most of the time, Ran leaks hostility whenever Sanzu is around—he hasn’t made peace with the fact that Sanzu is dating his little brother even though they’ve been happy together for 3 years now. There’s a reason why Takeomi assigned them to different departments.

 

“Oh, the gang’s here! I’ve got news!!!” Sanzu bounds over, with a shout, oddly excited. Then backs away when he gets a glare from Kakucho in the corner. “What’s got your panties twisted?”

 

“Circuit breaker test. Ringing ears,” Mochi supplies.

 

Sanzu makes an understanding noise. He waltzes towards Kakucho, peers up at his face with a calculating look, and shouts, “BOOHOO~!” in Kakucho’s face because he’s a sick bastard, fucked in the head, before he dodges Kakucho’s swings with maniacal laughter.

 

Oh, how Koko wishes Kakucho’s punch landed on Sanzu’s face for once.

 

“Geez, what are you, a child?” Mochi yanks Sanzu back by the back collar. “You said you’ve got news. Spill.”

 

“Oh, so Ran told me!” Sanzu gestures at Ran who has taken a seat next to Koko, legs crossed.

 

“—wait, you heard from Ran? You could’ve broken the news yourself,” Koko turns to Ran.

 

“We need that dramatic effect from Sanzu,” Ran gives a confident thumbs-up, complete with a grin. As if the gestures are convincing enough. Newsflash, that makes him look stupid.

 

...until today Koko questions how the fuck did these two assholes graduate from engineering with flying colors.

 

“No more interruption, please,” Sanzu says, a finger on his lips, “I, Sanzu, the reporter for today’s 10 AM news, received some shocking news from a reliable source, who wishes to remain anonymous—” at this, Koko rolls his eyes and drinks his coffee, “—that our Koko has begun his quest on finding love again!”

 

On cue, Koko chokes on his drink.

 

“Pictures or that didn’t happen,” Kakucho chimes in. Koko snaps his head around, betrayed—that fucking pinetree head.

 

“My beloved, Takashi, sent me the picture. You’re welcome.” Ran offers his phone. 

 

The bar owner, that traitor. How could Koko forget Mitsuya and Ran are dating. It was Ran who introduced Mitsuya to him in the first place. That’s how he found out about the bar and wound up frequenting the place.

 

Mochi, peering at the screen from behind Kakucho, whistles, impressed, “She’s a beaut, alright.”

 

“And blonde. Definitely Koko’s type,” Sanzu snaps his fingers, all serious as if this is the matter of world business.

 

They dissolve into discussion after that, speculations and predictions of their budding relationship. Of how the girl fell for him. Of how Koko should treat her. The longer Koko listens to their bullshit, the more it grates on his nerves. These stupid monkeys...

 

“Okay, I’ve had enough,” Koko decides, “One, Inupi’s a guy. He likes to crossdress, that’s all. Two, we aren’t dating. The sex is amazing, but that’s it. Nothing more. And three,” he gets to his feet, ready to leave, “Fuck. You. All.”

 

“Defensive much, Koko-kun?” Sanzu rests one hand on his hip. A teasing smirk kicks one scarred corner of his lips up.

 

“You wish,” Koko, headed for the door, sticks out his tongue, “Why don’tcha ask Mochi about that little ring he keeps in his office?”

 

At that, they snap their heads around at Mochi before flooding him with questions, “Wait, you and your girlfriend just met last year!” from Ran, and “You sure about this, Mochi?” from Kakucho, and “Red flag, Mochi. Definitely a red flag,” from Sanzu.

 

“Wait—” flustered, Mochi shouts, “—you snake, Koko!”

 

Koko flees. Fucking monkeys.