Work Text:
This is humiliating.
Shin’s hand slides against his own skin, the motion practiced but unconfident. His once fluttery breaths had evened out into laboured breathing, his thighs twitching slightly whenever his exhales hit them. The once sparking sensations had now dulled into a deep pressure protruding from his stomach.
In between his legs was a raunchy magazine he had stolen from a store he now adamantly avoided. Even though it was hardly any money, he had been too embarrassed to bring it to the cashier. When his shaky hands had gripped onto it, his mind had drifted to brief glimpses of Hiyori pocketing things. Unlike some of the people he knew(overheard) in school, Hiyori never bragged about it. Just occasionally, Shin thought he could see him slipping seemingly random items into his pocket. Erasers, candy, hairclips, nothing he saw Hiyori with again. Once, he just barely saw him take something right in front of the cashier, at the register, where there must’ve been cameras. Shin had been so anxious then he almost threw up right then and there.
Despite Shin being sure that Hiyori was secretly a petty thief, Hiyori still scolded him harshly when he confessed he had shoplifted. He had switched out some of the details, like what store and… what he stole, but the guilt had been swallowing him whole since then. He had been hoping that Hiyori would finally praise him for ‘taking initiative’ since he had teased him fervently about his cowardice. But, Hiyori didn’t seem pleased at all, at least, it seemed that way. He went on about ‘being professional’ and ‘how will you get a job if you’re too busy stealing’ which were things Hiyori never seemed to care about before. You think you know a guy…
Shin’s face twisted as a bead of sweat slipped into his eye. Wiping his face, he realized he had forgotten about his predicament down there, again. It seemed that whenever he tried to relieve himself, his brain would drift off to other things, and any arousal he had built up previously would burn up.
He shivered. Slicked in sweat and half naked, he felt disgusting. The magazine had a few drips of what was hopefully sweat splattered across it. With a grimace, he rolled it back up and slipped it in between his mattress and bedframe. He couldn’t afford to replace it, so he had to put up with his own grime.
Sneaking into the shower, he rapidly switched in between hot and cold as his mind fought between being tough and being comfortable. What he couldn’t wash off was the flush on his face, between jacking off, the sweat and the magazine, he felt like a total pervert. He had tried to find things online but the shared network made things difficult. The moment his mom had asked about a suspicious website the network picked up, he had forsworn online porn completely.
But magazines sucked. Really sucked. He hadn’t spent enough time online to figure out what he liked, and now he was stuck quickly scanning mags that seemed to be near replicas of each other in run-down shops. He had managed to cum a few times, but it seemed like anything the magazine initially provided had dried out.
Of course the failed attempts only made things worse, he had caught his pants tightening one too many times in class to ignore it. He’d excuse himself, try to jerk off quietly in a stall, fail, come back even worse.
What made things unbearable was Hiyori.
Everytime he left, Hiyori gave him a curious look. Admittedly, at this point it was probably obvious even to non-overly observant eyes. He had a small venture in the fourth period, and he knew as soon as he slipped back into the classroom that Hiyori wouldn’t let it be.
His eyes had wrinkled ever so slightly, his signature look whenever something caught his attention. Shin tried to keep his eyes on the teacher, but in his peripheral vision he saw the edge of Hiyori’s lip twitch.
Of course, they walked home together, they always did. Hiyori came running over to him a bit more eagerly than usual.
“Shin,” Hiyori started, his soft voice too close for comfort, “can I come over to your house today?”
Shin stopped in his tracks entirely, heat trailing up his body. Shin sped up, the heat crawling onto his cheeks.
“Um,” trying to buy time, Shin stumbled over his words, “my mom’s.. home today.”
“And?” Hiyori’s laugh was airy, like it could slip away from him if he didn’t pay attention, “it’s not like we’re a couple, Shin. She won’t mind us.”
“As long as we’re quiet.” He added, voice drifting off in thought. Shin bit his lip as he looked away.
Though not officially agreed upon, it seemed like Hiyori was following him home anyways. Their walk was quiet, the only noise between them was plastic shoes against sizzling concrete and Shin’s breathing, Hiyori’s pace was making him go quicker than he’d like.
The beat of his heart picked up with his foot-steps, his mind racing as his brain anticipated all the unlikely scenarios that Hiyori would unleash upon him. He’d told Hiyori that he had stolen a toy instead of the.. magazine. While he had called Shin childish at the time, he became increasingly curious as Shin had been unable to produce said toy. Everytime he stole a glance at Hiyori, the taller boy’s gaze seemed to be trained in the direction of his house. He definitely wanted something.
Shin’s mom wasn’t home. Shin stared blankly at the empty halls as he realized how blatant his lie was. He hadn’t even thought about it, and it just slipped out. Hiyori didn’t acknowledge it, only humming to himself as he slipped past the front door and made his way upstairs.
Shin stood still in the bedroom doorway, his face slightly hidden by the door-frame. Hiyori sat on his bed, an innocent smile plastered on his face. Sometimes, he reminded Shin of a mischievous little kid. He could see the plotting in his face, like that time he had tricked Shin into signing up for choir, or going to an intimacy shop(which he later stole from).
Hiyori patted the bed, and Shin begrudgingly took a few steps forward. Hiyori mouthed something that Shin couldn’t discern. For a while, they sat and talked. A stale-mate, Shin too nervous to speak, Hiyori waiting for an opportunity to open. Hiyori asked about the toy, Shin dodged the question. Hiyori brought up the sex-shop, Shin’s face went red. Hiyori made that.. soft giggling sound that resonated through Shin’s chest. By the time the first peeks of dusk made its way through the window, Shin had almost forgotten about his earlier suspicions.
“Oh! Shin, you said you’d show me that game cartridge, yes?” Shin knew the moment Hiyori opened his mouth. He wasn’t sure what he knew, but he just knew. “Not sure why anyone would pay that much money for an outdated software, but I guess some people are just too sentimental.” Hiyori’s hand went in slow-motion as he stood up, slowly prying the mattress up from its frame.
“This is where you keep all your- oh!” Hiyori held a hand up to his mouth to hide the smile that quickly formed. “Shin.. oh my.. I had no idea..”
Shin’s brain was fizzing out. The usual stream of panic had stalled in the face of absolute humiliation. His body moved on his own, and he snatched the magazine away from Hiyori who had been holding it out like a treasure map.
“Sorry,” Shin mumbled, “I didn’t mean for you to see that.”
For a moment, the two teenage boys stared at each-other with blank expressions, as if trying to outdo each other on their apparent neutrality.
Then Hiyori pushed himself off the mattress. As he grabbed the magazine from Shin’s hands, a piece of it tore off. Shin’s hand curled around the scrap.
“Wow Shin.. I expected better of you.. but you’re just a regular old pervert.” Hiyori pointedly sighed as he lifted the magazine above Shin’s head. His chest bumped against Shin’s as he tilted his head to see the pictures better, choosing the most awkward position possible to pry into Shin’s intimate life.
“Sailor uniforms, really?” Shin’s brain filtered out whatever Hiyori was saying as he felt Hiyori’s chest move against his. The faint bumping of his heartbeat just beyond the other boy’s ribcage. Twisting his head around, Shin watched as Hiyori traced the curve of a model’s chest, bright eyes moving with the movement.
Something swelled in his chest, sweet with a bitter after-taste, like a pastry with too much baking soda. He choked on his own breath as the strangest urge came over him. Eyes flickering to the wrinkled piece of paper cradled in his fist, his brain begged him to destroy it. To rip apart the magazine. For the longest time, the magazine had been his only semblance of relief. Bringing him just close enough to the edge before he found himself gasping and miserable again. It was better than nothing, probably. But even the idea that Hiyori liked it made his stomach lurch.
Hoping his sudden movement would catch Hiyori off-guard, Shin twisted around to grab the magazine. Hiyori’s eyes lit up as they began a short round of tug of war, lifting the porn above his head to abuse his height advantage. But what Hiyori wasn’t expecting was Shin to begin to tear away the pages he managed to get ahold of. Hiyori’s hands loosened just enough to let Shin to pull it back.
He awkwardly stumbled as he tried to tear it in half, holding it against his knee. His face flushed as he realized Hiyori was watching and he opted to just tear the pages off individually instead.
When he was done, he stood panting in the middle of the room. Legs spread like an animal ready to sprint. Hiyori observed him, holding his hands behind his back so Shin couldn’t see him fiddling with them.
“Was it that embarrassing?” Hiyori murmured slowly, considering his words. He prodded at one of the pages with his foot, “hm… looks like this is finished. I’m sorry Shin, I’m sure you loved it very much. I’ll have to buy you a new one.” Hiyori looked up to examine Shin’s face, but his lip twitched downwards as he realized it was blank.
Shin’s shoulders relaxed as he looked at the pages scattered across the room, “Just.. help me clean this up.”
Hiyori spoke up a few times as they gathered up the pages but Shin regarded him little, his brow furrowed in concentration, he made sure to crumple each page into a small ball.
Shin kept a steady eye on Hiyori as they moved the mess to the outside garbage, making sure he didn’t leave a page in his mom’s room or something.
Hiyori left his house with the kind of silence that made Shin nauseous. He wanted to beg him for forgiveness, but he wasn’t sure what for.
That night, Shin rolled restlessly deep enough into the night where his thoughts went hazy. As his mental filter melted with his consciousness, he thought about how soft Hiyori’s chest was, he’d never felt it before that point. Hiyori was the type of person that liked to touch but not be touched.
The day after, Hiyori gave him a small mercy and pretended nothing happened. Aside from some light teasing about Shin having a dirty secret. He smiled as a flush spread over Shin’s face.