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The truth is that Kaoru hates being one of the people Kojiro sleeps with.
Sunrise is already peeking through the curtains. Kaoru has his phone in his hands, Carla blinking on the screen from where Kaoru is making cursory tweaks in her programming. His heart isn’t really in it though, only that his brain refuses to sleep when it’s busy thinking up things Kaoru doesn’t even want it to be thinking about.
The bed stirs, and Kaoru’s mind goes back to the green tuft of hair poking out of the covers beside him.
He still can't believe he even let this happen at all—Kojiro, that is. Kaoru has always known that the guy sleeps around. It’s probably been Kojiro’s thing ever since he learned he could more-than-kiss a person, and he doesn’t exactly keep it a secret. Kaoru's pretty sure that even helps with his prospects. Nothing like people knowing you're open to things to get interested parties to make their offer, and Joe does have a lot of forward fans who don't mind sharing him or being given just one chance with him.
It's not really Kaoru's style, though.
"Kaoru?"
Strong arms wrap slowly around Kaoru’s waist. Kojiro, Kaoru has learned, is clingy with his lovers, especially in the morning. He should have known, really, what with the man having little sense for personal space even outside of a bed.
Kojiro nuzzles against his shoulder. "It’s too early to be awake on a Sunday morning, don't you think?” he says, voice deep and rough with sleep. “Even still too early for me to get up to make breakfast."
"No need to excuse your being lazy, stupid gorilla."
Kojiro does not rise to the bait, instead raising his head to squint sleepily down at Kaoru. "Did you get any sleep at all?" His hand appears and brushes gently against Kaoru’s cheek. Kaoru fights to keep still, even as Kojiro goes on to say, "Really, this is eight hours too early for you.”
Kaoru leans his head away and slaps that hand for good measure. "That was one time I woke up that late, and I keep telling you that I had a long day the day before."
"All right, seven hours too early." That earns Kojiro another hit, but he just grins through it and easily deflects. He does shift to a mock pout when Kaoru keeps trying to attack him, though. "Aaw, baby, don’t be mean."
"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that?" This time, Kaoru kicks him for good measure, but Kojiro is annoyingly fit and has years of practice when it comes to dodging Kaoru's hits.
Kojiro's arms tighten around his waist, and Kaoru has to suppress a shiver when the other man’s lips brush teasingly along his neck. Kojiro mouths and nips at the sensitive skin there, tickling Kaoru with his breaths. He gets so annoyingly familiar. "You have way too much energy this early in the morning," Kojiro tells him. "Didn't I tire you out last night?"
"Please," Kaoru forces himself to say even as he feels himself losing the fight, eyes fluttering closed as his body melts against Kojiro. "It was average at best."
“Yeah?” Kojiro continues to trail kisses up to Kaoru's ear, and Kaoru gives up trying to deny the frisson of heat that goes through him as Kojiro runs mouth and fingers all over his skin. His voice is deep, still rough with sleep, and it rumbles deliciously as he speaks so close to Kaoru’s ear. “Can’t say I can accept that kind of score. How about you give me another chance to redeem myself, hmm? Might even help you get back to sleep?”
Kaoru couldn’t have denied him if he'd tried. He’s never going to admit that out loud, of course, but Kojiro doesn’t seem to mind. He is massive as he rolls on top of Kaoru, heavy and hot and everything that gets Kaoru's blood rushing. Kojiro's weight presses him deliciously against the bed, still even warm and smelling like sex—just the two of them, alone at least when they are here, together on Kaoru's bed.
Kaoru's voice is a wrecked sound as Kojiro slides inside him. He does it so deliciously slowly, too, hands marking Kaoru’s hips where he’s holding him in place. Kaoru is still relaxed and loose enough from the night before and his body is greedy as it pulls Kojiro in.
Kojiro hisses as he bottoms out. He sounds as breathless as Kaoru feels, moaning out a rough, “Come on,” before rolling them over, Kaoru on his front, face pushed against the pillows as Kojiro rocks the bed with the strength of his thrusts. It doesn’t take long before he finds rhythm, holding Kaoru down as he thrusts in and out of him. He fucks Kaoru the way he needs it, rough and brutal and like they’re making up for lost time. Maybe they are, a little bit.
Once upon a time, Kojiro across a room bobbing his head with earphones in his ears, still in his uniform, was all it took for Kaoru to want to push the other boy down and make out, right there on the floor of Kojiro’s bedroom. He didn’t, and they didn't, for many reasons, but it is not until now that he wonders if that feeling long ago was ever at all returned.
A part of him hopes it was. He squashes that thought quickly down.
* * *
Nobody else knows.
Of course not. It’s been barely a month, and Kaoru will not be able to live it down if anyone they know finds out. After all, there is still a lot one has to come to terms with when one decides to sleep with a friend—your best friend—of twenty-something years.
Kaoru isn’t even sure himself how long this is going to go. A part of him still thinks it’s all a big, drunken mistake that neither of them had the brain cells to stop doing the morning after. Not that Kojiro seemed to think so; he took it all in stride, even cooking breakfast for them despite the inevitable hangover he must also have had that day. It didn’t seem like anything changed for him save for, well, the fact that they fucked.
It all just gives Kaoru a headache.
“Oh, Lord Cherry is here after all!”
His head turns before he can stop it. The usual noise at S aside, Kaoru is also maybe more tense than usual these days given his increased awareness for a certain other S founder. He and Kojiro only occasionally arrive together even before, but nowadays Kaoru makes it a point not to be seen so much with the other if he can help it.
“Ah, so he is!” Kojiro doesn’t seem as particular as Kaoru when it comes to their public interactions. He parades into view with his usual open jacket and little else from the waist up, his usual entourage of whichever of his groupies found and latched on to him first upon arrival already by his side.
Kaoru just barely stops himself from sneering at them.
“Didn’t think you’d be coming tonight," Kojiro says to him in greeting.
“Didn’t think you're capable of thinking at all,” Kaoru bites back, almost on instinct by now. "Isn't that dangerous for you?"
The other just takes the insult in stride, but the corners of his mouth twitch and there is amusement in his eyes. “Hey now, no need to be nasty so early in the evening.”
“Yeah!” One of the girls, failing to read the room as they often tend to, steps forward to chime in. “That’s not very polite of you to say, Lord Cherry.”
Another one, equally dense, joins in. “Joe’s just being nice. Anyone would be lucky if he paid attention to them.”
'God,' Kaoru thinks. 'They are harlots, the lot of them.'
“Now, now,” says Kojiro this time, laying his hands on the girls’ shoulders. “That’s enough. We don’t want Lord Cherry to be jealous.”
“Why in the world would I be jealous?” Kaoru immediately spits out, despite his better judgment. Nevermind that his eyes immediately dart to where Kojiro’s hands are, curving comfortably around the girls’ arms in a way that makes Kaoru want to bite them off. When his eyes lift back up to Kojiro’s face, he finds the other man looking at him with that same amused expression, which only grates even further at Kaoru’s nerves.
It’s one of the two girls who speaks again, giggling under Kojiro’s arms. “If he is jealous, he can just play with his own fans.”
“That’s true. I bet that would make them happy for a change,” says the other.
“Well, now,” Kojiro says, “then I would be jealous.”
It’s stupid really, how the gorilla’s dumb words could both annoy and send a thrill down Kaoru’s spine. 'He does not mean it,' he immediately tells himself, squashing down that part of him that would be glad to see Kojiro jealous for a change. As if. Kaoru knows that Kojiro’s words were only meant to tease, especially given the secret that now hangs between them.
“Why would you be jealous, Joe? You have us!”
“Yeah! You have more fans than Lord Cherry.”
“Hey!” comes a voice from the side, because—ah yes, brilliant, Cherry Blossom’s fans have also arrived. “Stop spreading lies! Joe doesn’t have more fans than Lord Cherry, how is that even possible?”
Kaoru slips away before things start getting heated, as they often tend to do when those two groups come together. The beefs are going to start any minute now anyway, so he doesn’t need to worry about brawls on the ground, if it ever comes to that.
He isn’t planning on skating that evening. Anyway, watching beefs has always been a source of enjoyment for him, and the rowdy crowd at S is better than the dark quiet of his house. There have been a lot of exciting matches recently, especially with Langa around, whose influence seems to have sparked a lot of interest and drive among the younger skaters. It’s always good to see, and it's a great source of distraction when Kaoru’s mind insists on fixating on irritating things.
“Come on, don’t be so pissy.”
Kaoru does not quite jump, and he hopes that his mask at least covers the sharp breath he takes at the sound of that voice so suddenly close to his ear.
“Get away from me, you smelly gorilla,” he says on instinct, refusing to even look at the other, especially after that stunt from earlier.
He hears Kojiro balk behind him. “Who’s smelly? I bathed before coming here, you lying four-eyes.”
“You smell like lipstick and cheap perfume.”
“Do I?” This time, Kaoru turns his eyes to the side and sees Kojiro sniffing at himself, with the collar of his jacket lifted up to his nose. “Man, those girls are something,” he says, almost to himself. He catches the way Kaoru is looking at him and immediately holds up his hands. “It’s not what you think, all right? I just meant they stuck really close tonight.”
“Right, because you've never jumped anyone for lesser reasons before,” says Kaoru, with not a bit of venom.
The smile slips from Kojiro's face. "Come on, I'm telling you it's not like that," he says.
"No need to explain to me," says Kaoru, already turning away, "or even make excuses. It's none of my business."
If anything though, this only makes Kojiro sigh. “Kaoru, listen–” he starts to say, but whatever else he might have to say (and Kaoru’s subsequent reminder to not use their names at S) is cut off by the screens lighting up with the first match of the night.
The crowd around them cheers as Shadow and a newcomer’s face appear on the screen. Kaoru doesn’t bother checking the line-up nowadays and just waits to see who has beefs with whom as the nights progress. He fully planned to stick around for the whole evening, hoping at least that the night’s beefs would be entertaining.
There’s probably a match for at least Reki or Langa, who are likely to show up as they hardly miss S nights. Miya, on the other hand, has a test coming up and texted that he wouldn’t be attending. Not that Kaoru asked, although truth be told, he doesn’t mind knowing either. The kid has been sticking to him a lot recently, and Kaoru has mostly been letting him. He figured it’s just as well, given that Miya has been under Adam’s wing before this, and any step away from the man's influence is probably for the best.
Tonight, however, it seems like he would barely make it to the second half of Shadow’s match. Once everyone is reasonably distracted, hidden by the crowd and the dim lights, a hand slowly wraps around Kaoru’s wrist. When he turns, there Kojiro is again. He gives Kaoru a look, one so inviting and rife with promise that it immediately sends heat coursing through Kaoru without need for words to even be said. Kojiro smiles, winks, and he puts a finger to his lips before Kaoru feels the tug on his wrist.
Kaoru knows he shouldn’t. Still, there’s something about Kojiro’s smile that pulls him in, the look in his eyes that matches the heat of his hands as they pull Kaoru away from the crowd. It doesn't even come as a surprise when Kojiro brings them to his bike, parked nearby. He straddles it readily and ushers Kaoru to the back, the both of them already so used to the motions that he doesn't even look twice, doesn't doubt that Kaoru already knows what to do.
The hum of the engine is not new. Neither are Kaoru's arms around Kojiro's waist. Although he has ridden behind Kojiro many times before, Kaoru’s hands are probably sweating, burning brands on the skin stretched across Kojiro's hard abs as anticipation thrums in the air between them. Despite the nerves, his fingers slide across the hard muscle beneath his palms, nails scratching skin. Kojiro’s breath hitches, and it’s thrilling.
Kojiro drives them to a more deserted part of the mine. It's a place they both know well. They know where the crowds will be—and perhaps more importantly, where they wouldn't be—and Kaoru knows full well what Kojiro has in store for them when they can no longer hear the roar of the crowd.
Kojiro parks his bike near a copse of trees, just so they can be hidden in the unlikely event someone else passes by. He keeps the motor running as he slides out of the seat and moves smoothly behind Kaoru, switching their places. Gloved hands take his, placing them on the handlebars, and Kaoru’s breath hitches when those same hands slip inside the slits of his hakama. It all happens so fast that Kaoru can only hold on tightly as he feels Kojiro's hands on his skin, the engine rumbling hot between his legs, forcing them wide. Kojiro presses his chest flush against his back, pushing him against the vibrations, and Kaoru shivers.
“Fuck, you kinky bastard,” he curses through a moan, his breath hot behind his mask as Kojiro coaxes him to rut against the motorcycle seat.
He feels the rumble of Kojiro’s laughter on his back. “You act as if you don’t like it.”
He bites at Kaoru's jaw, pulling at the mask that still covers half of Kaoru's face. His hands are busy as they find Kaoru's cock and starts rubbing him inside his clothes. Kaoru moans and arches back against the solid chest behind him, his mask doing nothing to hide even the sounds of his breaths.
“That’s it, Kaoru,” the man breathes into Kaoru's ear as his hand keeps at a steady rhythm. “You’re so gorgeous, you have no idea. Makes me want to fuck you everywhere.”
Kaoru bites back a groan, letting his head fall back against Kojiro’s shoulder. They can’t, of course—fuck everywhere, that is. Not here anyway. They are still somewhere within S and something like that takes too much work and requires things they do not necessarily have. But oh god, Kaoru wants to, already so worked up from Kojiro’s voice in his ears, his hands working Kaoru’s body without need for any instructions.
Kojiro is quick to bring them off, first with his hands inside Kaoru’s clothes, then himself, turning Kaoru and pulling his hands to slip them unashamedly inside his own pants. He grabs Kaoru by the back of his head and pulls him in close, not quite kissing but right there as he pants against Kaoru's mouth, their lips separated by the mask. Kaoru sees the moment those deep, warm eyes start to glaze as Kojiro keeps a steady stream of, "Kaoru, Kaoru, Kaoru…" He keeps at it until Kaoru's ears are red and ringing with his own name, keeps at it until he's coming, pulsing hot and wet in Kaoru's hands.
Kojiro is so clingy, after sex. Kaoru doesn't know how Kojiro's lovers can stand it, being pulled in his hot, sweaty embrace, or the way he peppers soft kisses on their faces the way he does with Kaoru.
"So, so pretty," he says, obviously still recovering. "You're coming home with me tonight, right?"
He should tell him he won't, that this should stop. But it's just too easy to lose himself again in the tenderness of Kojiro's hands, the way he pulls you in with him in the afterglow.
It's only when Kojiro's kisses stray too close to his lips that Kaoru is pulled out of the spell. He turns away then, and ignores Kojiro's huffed out sigh.
No kisses. They agreed on that. Kojiro's sometimes a little shit about it, but Kaoru has to insist. It's the only thing that keeps him sane throughout all of this—whatever this is.
* * *
Kaoru's misgivings notwithstanding, somehow, one way or another, days pass and he finds himself in Kojiro's orbit, pulled in by charming smiles and warm eyes that are just skirting this side of dirty.
He still tells himself they should stop. He doesn’t quite tell Kojiro that just yet, finding himself constantly distracted with the man’s mouth on him and his hands that grab Kaoru in ways even Kaoru himself is surprised he likes. This man who knows so many of Kaoru's secrets, who's been with him through the years, also just seems to naturally find what will get him going. It's like Kojiro just knows, as though someone wrote a book about Kaoru's body and gave the bastard a copy.
It’s what may be confusing to Kaoru. He is no stranger to casual sex. His experience in the area might not be as extensive as Kojiro’s, but he knows well enough what it’s like to spend time with someone, to have the air charged with expectations, culminating in heated fumbling past the threshold of a hotel room.
Only, it’s Kojiro this time around. Kojiro, his childhood friend—his best friend. It doesn’t help that Kaoru may or may not have had an odd attraction to the man for as long as he can remember. He can’t even pinpoint when it began. His figurative grip on Kojiro had always been proprietary, even fighting with other kids when they took up too much of Kojiro's time. But it’s maybe not until Kojiro started getting confession from girls and started talking to Kaoru about kissing people and getting girlfriends that Kaoru realized that the possessiveness he felt for his friend went beyond merely spending time together skating or watching dumb movies.
When Kojiro talked about kissing, Kaoru thought about kissing him, and when Kojiro talked about doing more, Kaoru thought about what it would be like to feel Kojiro’s hands on him—in his hair, down his back, and more.
Kaoru had been quick to stamp the thought down when they were younger. No good thinking about those things when what he and Kojiro had was good, and anyway, Kojiro was clearly straight. His interest in girls was proof of that.
That was, until Kojiro had his first experience with a man in Italy. This was even just a month after Kaoru came there to visit, pretending that it's Kojiro's nagging and not his own clawing need to see the other again that brought him there. It was a week of excitement—of relief—getting to see Kojiro again, but at the same time, sharing 20 square meters and one bed with Kojiro was also its own brand of torture. The only thing that kept Kaoru sane throughout that time was knowing that the uneasiness was his and his alone. He told himself it's stupid to fret, because every moment that he was not enjoying this time with Kojiro was a moment he'd regret once he was back in Japan.
After Kojiro dropped that revelation on a video call, and between the shock and the inevitable, “Why did you never tell me!” and Kojiro's, “Well, what about you?” and the realization that no, this—what they were, what kind of people they were attracted to—was never something they ever talked about, came also the other realization that whatever walls were keeping Kaoru sane just being Kojiro’s friend all these years was built on flimsy ground at best.
Kojiro returned to Okinawa a year after that. There were at least still some things that stayed the same. They still bickered over the most stupid things, and Kojiro returned to S, to the great excitement of his fans. At the same time, two years was a long time to be apart. In that time, Kaoru had dedicated his time to his family’s calligraphy business, and with it the traditional style that came with the profession. Kojiro, in turn, bulked up even more than when Kaoru last saw him, and took to wearing (or not wearing) shirts in a way that was only even less helpful considering what Kaoru already knew. He also flirted—incessantly—with people, with fans at S, and sometimes, even with Kaoru.
If Kaoru thought hard about it, and was honest, he might have flirted back. Just a little. There was no denying Kojiro's charm, the way his mouth pulls up into easy smiles, or even the way his tongue slips out to wet his lips so seductively while keeping it simultaneously lowkey.
They lasted two weeks before Kojiro kissed him. It took a lot from Kaoru to push away after that initial thrill, of tasting that kiss he had always been curious about, those arms around him holding him tight. But Kojiro was Kojiro, and Kaoru knew that better than anyone else. This was the man who never lacked for admirers, or even lovers. He was even flirting with someone else an hour before he kissed Kaoru. Kaoru let himself enjoy the kiss, at least while it lasted, before ultimately pushing Kojiro away.
They were better off as friends, or so he told Kojiro, and then himself afterwards, when Kojiro eventually fumbled out of the embrace. He agreed with Kaoru too, eventually. Kaoru didn’t tell him he didn’t want to be one of many. That was maybe a bit too personal, and revealed too much when Kaoru knew it wouldn’t be his to have.
* * *
Big words, of course, Kaoru thinks, scrapping yet another sheet from his work table.
Today’s commission has been giving him some pain. It’s high-paying but quite particular, which means Kaoru could use all the energy and focus he can spare for it. It therefore doesn’t help that he is distracted, his body twinging deliciously when he moves, a sadistic reminder of how he’s been fucked over the kitchen counter by his best friend—whom he keeps telling himself he shouldn't fuck—just the night before.
Kaoru just barely drops his head in his hands. Barely.
He could at least commend them, lasting a year and more after that kiss. Kaoru can even say that they did very well, or were productive, at least while they kept their distance. In that time, Kojiro was able to scrape up what he needed to open his restaurant, and Kaoru continued to work hard establishing AI calligraphy under his family's calligraphy business.
It was tricky finding their rhythm after so much time apart. It was extra tricky, after that kiss. Maybe to shake off the nerves, they bickered more in and out of S. But Kaoru only avoided Kojiro for a week tops, because eventually Kojiro dragged him out kicking and screaming (figuratively, Kaoru would insist) and planted him on the counter in the newly built Sia la luce, trapping him with a plate of carbonara and a bottle of Vermentino.
It was a bit easier after that. Time passed, as it tended to. They met the kids, saw Adam return to S, and of course that wretched match happened. Kojiro had been insistent about being around and remaining available even more than usual then while Kaoru recovered, which would have been all well and good had this not meant he was at Kaoru's place in the late hours of the evenings making sure Kaoru's fridge was stocked with food, that the house was warm enough, or cool enough, or whatever else he thought someone fully capable of caring for himself needed.
(Granted, it was easier with him around, and Kaoru was grateful… in a manner of speaking. He might not have shown it well at the time, but Kojiro probably knew it anyway.)
But it was also hard not to be conscious of him in all that time. It wasn't like Kaoru didn't understand what others saw in Kojiro. The man was built. He always had a ready smile, and he was handsome in that way even dogs and old aunties liked. He's shameless when he flirts but doesn't come off as sleazy, which Kaoru had to admit was pretty impressive. And when he pressed close to Kaoru on the couch when they watched TV, or in the kitchen while Kaoru prepared his tea, Kaoru could swear the temperature goes up by at least five degrees.
Kaoru really should have known. A drunken night, with the air between them already ripe with tension they somehow managed to go a year without addressing—Kaoru has read enough badly written novels to know where such things could lead.
And then, on the morning after, when Kojiro was pulling Kaoru back against his broad body, Kaoru should have known better. Instead, all his brain came up with to say was: 'If we're doing this, nothing else changes, and there will be no kissing.'
As if that ever helped make things easier.
“Knock, knock?”
So distracted is he that it takes a while for the sound to register. A set of actual knocks on the doorframe of Kaoru’s studio is what finally pulls him to look up.
When he sees who it is at the door, his face immediately heats up and scrunches into a frown, both at the same time.
“This is a place of culture. Are you lost?”
“Rude,” says Kojiro, who, true enough, is standing there in front of Kaoru like it isn’t the middle of a workday. “Is that how you greet visitors? Especially ones you just saw this morning?"
Kaoru’s eyes are quick to dart to the side, to see if there’s anybody else there before turning back to Kojiro. “Are you stupid?” he hisses. “Don’t say that in broad daylight! Seriously, what are you even doing here?”
To this, Kojiro grins and holds up a white eco bag and dangles it for Kaoru to see. “Special delivery for Sakurayashiki-sensei!”
“If restaurant proprietors hand-delivered all meals to their clients, it’s a wonder Okinawa is kept afloat at all,” Kaoru tells him even as he lays his brush down.
“Oh, you know. I feel kind of bad, since this morning, you–”
“Finish that sentence and I swear I will cut it off, you bastard.”
Kojiro mock-winces at the threat. “Ouch." He shrugs after though, and easily says, "Lunch service is almost done, and it's nothing my sous chef can’t handle. Plus, I only deliver for special customers.”
Kaoru grits his teeth when the other throws him a wink.
The sound of a giggle off to the side gets their attention. They turn, and there from the back, Kaoru’s new assistant comes shuffling in before bowing before them.
“Sensei, Carla told me we have a visitor,” she explains. She turns and bows to Kojiro, before gesturing at the bag he’s holding. “Nanjo-san, hello. Let me get that for you. I can set this right up for Sensei.”
"Thank you, Ayako,” Kaoru tells her as he watches the bag exchange hands. “I will need another hour, though."
"Nuh-uh, no good," Kojiro immediately declares with a shake of his head. "You say one hour and then one hour later, you'll need another hour." He turns to Kaoru's assistant. "Just plating that would do. The pasta's still warm, and Sensei here's got a cat's tongue anyway."
The girl smiles. She nods her head at Kojiro, and inconveniently leaves for the backroom where the pantry is before Kaoru could protest and tell her otherwise.
He whips his head back to the entryway and narrows his eyes at Kojiro. "Next time you order around my staff, I'm going to write you a check."
Kojiro just rolls his eyes at him. "You're welcome, Kaoru."
This, of course, Kaoru largely ignores. "Your errand is done, right? Go home, you busybody gorilla."
"What, I can't just hang out and look at Sensei's pretty face? You look like an overripe plum when you're pissed, it's really cute."
Kaoru opens his mouth, but a dozen retorts ranging from offended to embarrassed to, quite annoyingly, pleased by whatever convoluted compliment Kojiro throws, all crowd at the forefront of Kaoru's head, making it impossible to be coherent.
Kojiro leaves him to it, too well-used to Kaoru being like this. He folds his arms instead and leans against the door frame, turning to where Kaoru's assistant had disappeared earlier.
“Cute assistant you got there,” he says, which immediately clears Kaoru's head.
“Hey, back off," he tells the other man, probably with a bit more venom than he meant. "I told you, my assistants are off-limits.”
“Not like that. Geez.” Kojiro shakes and scratches his head. “I only meant that she seems helpful. You’ve had her for how long now? She doesn’t seem to be terrified of you like your old assistants were.”
“A little over a month,” says Kaoru, and adds, “She’s a smart girl. Far too smart for the likes of you."
"Come on, man. She's the same age as my sister."
Kaoru snorts at that. "That has never stopped you before."
"Excuse me? Since when have I--" Kojiro bristles, but then stops. He sighs, slowly as though summoning patience as he sets his hands on his waist and looks down at Kaoru. "I only meant that it's nice to have someone around who would make sure you eat and drink water and do the things that will help you... you know, function like a healthy human being for a change."
"Carla reminds me," says Kaoru, which makes Kojiro snort this time around.
"Yeah, when you remember to set her." He turns to address the black disc on Kaoru’s table. “Hey, Carla.”
The disc lights up pink. “Yes, Kojiro?”
"You are not allowed to speak to Carla--" Kaoru starts, but Kojiro is already ignoring him.
“When is your next alarm for Kaoru, Carla?”
“Master has set a dinner alarm for 10:00 p.m.”
Kojiro clicks his tongue and shakes his head, not that Carla could see. “Carla, you should know better, right? On average, folks around here eat dinner at 7. 8 is already considered late. What do you think 10 o’clock is?”
Carla actually manages to sound contrite when she replies, “It is very late indeed, Kojiro.”
“That is not your fault, Carla,” Kaoru is quick to defend her. “I asked you to remind me at 10.”
“Yes, Master. Setting all dinner alarms to 7:00 p.m."
Kaoru squeezes at the bridge of his nose. At the sound of laughter, he glares up at Kojiro. “I take it you are happy now?”
“Oh yeah, very," says Kojiro. "I'll make sure to time dinner deliveries so you don't even need to warm them."
Kaoru casts him a withering stare and shifts his attention back to his work, ignoring the very pointed, "Again, you're welcome?" the other man throws for good measure. He takes his brush again and stares pointedly at the sumi paper before him. “You don’t need to keep bringing me food, you know.”
Even without looking, Kaoru senses the way Kojiro shifts and he knows that the other is staring at him. “I think I do, considering that you can’t be trusted to feed yourself."
“Whether I do or I don’t is not your problem.”
This time, Kojiro doesn’t respond that it makes Kaoru look back up at him. He catches him still staring. “What?” he asks.
Kojiro blinks. “Nothing.”
Kaoru clicks his tongue and glares at him. “Then leave.”
“So pissy. All right, I’m leaving.” Kojiro shakes his head and pushes off the door frame. At the last minute though, he stops, turns back to Kaoru. “You're coming over tonight, right?” he asks, just like that.
Kaoru looks down and pretends to busy himself with work. “I’ll think about it.”
Kojiro rolls his eyes, but does not push it. They both know Kaoru will come.
* * *
The thing about putting a stop to all this, Kaoru thinks, is the fact that he sees Kojiro almost everyday.
That can’t be helped, really, especially when Kojiro has taken to cooking Kaoru’s food on workdays. If he isn't bringing food to the studio, Kaoru is walking to his restaurant. Sia la luce, after all, is just a good 10-minute walk from Kaoru’s calligraphy studio, and it’s just easier that way given how well Kojiro already knows Kaoru likes his food to be. The wine is also good, and the conversation is interesting and fun—not that Kaoru would be willing to ever let Kojiro know the latter.
Kojiro is not going anywhere. That’s just non-negotiable. What Kaoru needs, therefore, is a distraction.
“I should date again.”
Behind the counter, Kojiro nearly drops the wine glass he’s wiping.
“Come again?” he asks, wisely setting the glass down on the counter behind the bar.
Kaoru frowns at the row of wine glasses still in front of Kojiro. “That was close. Should you be the one doing that with your gorilla hands?”
“What’s this suddenly about dating?” Kojiro asks again, ignoring Kaoru’s question, which only makes Kaoru scowl at him even more from his usual seat in front of the bar.
“I said what I said. What else can you take it to mean?”
“It's just unexpected," says Kojiro, frowning. "It's been a while for you, hasn't it?"
Kaoru looks away and ducks down behind the rim of his wine glass. "Yeah. Maybe that's exactly why I should."
It isn't, of course. But exactly why isn't the kind of thing Kaoru can just tell Kojiro.
“Huh.”
Kaoru looks up to see Kojiro staring at him. "What?” he asks the other, returning the look with a glare.
“What?”
“What’s that look for?”
"Nothing. Just surprised, I guess."
Kaoru scowls. "What's there to be surprised about?"
"I mean, considering that we… you know..." Kojiro gestures to the air between the two of them in a way that makes Kaoru scowl even deeper, daring him to put the thing to words. Kojiro doesn't. Instead, he sighs, looking then like the long dinner service has finally gotten to him as he rubs at the back of his neck. "I didn’t think you’d be looking for more than that, that’s all."
Kaoru fumbles for an answer. “I just think that we– I mean that I don't–” he starts, but finds himself unable to continue that train of thought. Things with Kojiro have been very confusing of late, and that's a problem, because cornered like this, Kaoru would often default to something more certain and familiar—like anger. "What's with the interrogation anyway? I don't need to explain myself to you."
"Of course not," Kojiro immediately says. "You can do whatever the fuck you want."
"I will," Kaoru declares, voice rising. "Because I can, and it's none of your business. And anyway, don’t you have other people you’re meeting? I thought you’d be happy that I’m not going to take up so much of your time.”
“Did you hear me complain?”
"Be happy you don't have to!"
Kojiro slaps down the drying cloth he is holding on the bar counter. "You know what? Whatever, Kaoru. Like you said, it’s none of my business. You can do what you want."
The kitchen door swings violently when Kojiro makes his way out.
* * *
Kaoru and Kojiro fight so often that making up just happens naturally once enough time has passed.
Kaoru is still seething from the encounter earlier, but he isn't surprised when, later that evening and just as he is settling down for bed, Carla greets him with a, “Master, you have a new message from Kojiro. Shall I read it to you?”
“No, thank you, Carla” Kaoru tells her. “You may sleep for today.”
He watches Carla’s pink lights dim before picking his phone up and taking it with him to bed. He’s taken to reading Kojiro’s messages to him on his own, ever since that time when he kept desecrating Carla by insisting on sexting Kaoru.
He knows full well Carla reads Kaoru his messages. Stupid horny gorilla.
Hey. What're you up to?
11:14 PM
Sleeping.
Read
11:15 PM
Man, if that were true, I'd actually be glad to leave you alone.
11:17 PM
Next time, I just won't reply.
Read
11:18 PM
Ass.
11:18 PM
Right. So talking but not really talking—fairly standard for the both of them.
So hey. Let's go out on Sunday.
11:21 PM
Behind Kaoru’s phone screen, a pink eyebrow rises at the sudden invitation.
What if I have plans?
Read
11:25 PM
Do you?
11:26 PM
That is none of your business.
Read
11:27 PM
Again with that line.
11:28 PM
If this is about Miya's assignment, I already asked Hiromi to take care of it this weekend.
11:30 PM
Kaoru sometimes teaches Miya at Sia la luce, but the sessions are sporadic, only when Miya needs them. How Kojiro even knew that Kaoru has a thing set with Miya that weekend is beyond him.
You do know Miya asks for help with mathematics, right?
Read
11:32 PM
Uh, yes? You know Hiromi graduated college, right? Don't be rude.
11:35 PM
Look, Miya's not worried, okay? The kid's cool with it, and it's only for one Sunday anyway.
11:37 PM
What exactly did he say?
Read
11:38 PM
Instead of a reply, Kojiro sends a screenshot from his conversation with "Miya /ᐠ-ᆽ-ᐟ \". The message just says: have fun, mama. use protection ٩( ˘ ³˘)۶~♡
What the fuck did you tell him??
Read
11:45 PM
Nothing! I just said I'll borrow you, geez. He's joking.
11:48 PM
Besides, don't pretend you don't know things at his age. You were an awful influence on me.
11:49 PM
Oh, *I* was the bad influence?
Read
11:49 PM
The worst.
11:51 PM
Not my fault you were a gullible kid.
Read
11:52 PM
I was 12 and impressionable!
11:54 PM
Kaoru snickers despite himself, remembering Kojiro’s cute stupid trusting face at age 12.
So we're good, right? Gonna have Sensei to myself on Sunday? ♥️
11:58 PM
Don't call me that if you're just going to make it dirty.
Read
12:00 AM
Please, you like it. Last time even got you worked up so fast.
12:02 AM
Lies.
Read
12:02 AM
You know it’s true, Princess.
12:03 AM
Or shall we do it again to jog your memory? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
12:04 AM
Where exactly are we going?
Read
12:05 AM
You can let me worry about that. Just wear something nice for me (･ω<)☆
12:07 AM
You're disgusting and I should bolt the door on you.
Read
12:09 AM
Jesus, Kaoru, just let me take you out, okay?
12:11 AM
Sunday. It's dinner. I'll pick you up at 5.
12:12 AM
It'll be somewhere nice, I PROMISE.
12:12 AM
* * *
Kaoru bitches and whines and cusses Kojiro out of his messaging apps, but come Sunday afternoon, he still finds himself all dressed up for whatever it is that Kojiro wants to do. It's nothing special, he tells himself, and especially not because the gorilla asked him to dress up.
He’s still wearing his preferred kimono, this time in a deep magenta and an only very slightly more expensive obi he saves for special occasions—not that whatever this is is a special occasion. He busies himself by pulling his hair up in a messy bun, letting strands of pink hair fall artfully down one side of his face. At the last minute, he puts on some cherry-flavored lip balm—just because he feels like it, of course, and doing something keeps his hands from fidgeting. The balm gives his lips a nice sheen and some subtle color, and even Kaoru finds himself pleased by the look.
It's not long after that that Kojiro arrives. Kaoru wishes he can pretend he doesn't notice the way Kojiro does a slow, appreciative sweep of his attire. His eyes linger on Kaoru's mouth, and Kaoru just barely manages not to self-consciously bite or lick his lips.
"Hey," Kojiro greets, finally meeting Kaoru's eyes. "I'm gonna be honest. I'm tempted to just stay in now."
Kojiro's words wrap around Kaoru and warm him from the cheeks down. 'He probably says that to everyone,' he is quick to remind himself.
He slaps a muscled arm with his fan. "I’m already dressed up, you horny gorilla, and I don't remember inviting you in."
Kojiro himself has cleaned up well. He actually looks classy in a charcoal dress shirt and a light suit. The jacket is flung over his shoulders because of course he can't keep everything strictly formal to save his life, and he has two buttons undone, baring his strong neck and collarbones where a corded necklace sits. Kaoru does note that he is wearing the designer watch Kaoru gave to him to commemorate the opening of his restaurant, the one that Kojiro claims is too formal for his usual style, but one Kaoru insists he needs for the inevitable occasions when even a gorilla like him needs to look like a human being.
Kojiro’s hair is tied in a low ponytail, and while hair ties can never tame his wavy lion's mane, they keep him neat enough in an acceptable way, leaving only a few tufts of hair to fall around Kojiro’s handsome face. It’s criminal.
Kaoru folds his arms, mostly because it wouldn't do to contradict himself and pull Kojiro in for a quick fuck on the genkan. "Wherever you are taking me better be worth my time," he says instead.
The man grins, clearly unperturbed by the challenge. “Totally worth it, I swear,” he says. He takes a step forward and slips a hand around Kaoru’s waist, steady and warm. He moves as though to coax Kaoru out the door, but mostly just manages to pull Kaoru flush against him, grin widening when Kaoru fails to hide the way his breath trips at their proximity. “I’m pretty sure that this time, I just might even impress you.”
The heady scent of Kojiro’s cologne fills Kaoru’s nose, but he fights his way past his daze. He lifts an eyebrow. “Is that so? Now that’ll be a pleasant surprise, a big gorilla like you recognizing class enough to impress.”
“I mean, you’ve got high standards, I’ll admit, but it won’t be my first time to impress you, is it?” Kojiro’s voice is pitched low, just as the hand on Kaoru’s back slides down to squeeze him over his kimono. This earns Kojiro a gasp and a matching slap of the fan again, to which he only laughs and proceeds to pull Kaoru out the door.
Kojiro brought his car–which, thank God, because if he had brought his bike when he asked Kaoru for a date, the day just might have ended before it had even begun. He graciously opened the front door for Kaoru before making his way to the driver's side of the car.
“I thought to bring flowers, but I dunno...” says Kojiro once he is seated and is snapping his seatbelt on.
Kaoru turns to him as though he just grew an extra head. “Why in the world would you do that? I swear, Kojiro, you better not be softening me up for an STD-related talk later on because I will maim you.”
Kojiro rolls his eyes and just turns to start the car. “See, this is why I didn’t get it. It’s weird for us, right?"
He gets the car going slowly down the street, and soon they are on the road, driving past familiar establishments as they make their way out of the city.
The plan, apparently, involves a reservation at a known luxury hotel about an hour away from Naha, which boasts a newly opened omakase-style restaurant with waiting lines spanning months (Kaoru knows—he's tried). Kojiro claims that he called in a favor from one of his culinary friends, and that's how they eventually find themselves at the counter, with a gorgeous ocean sunset view from the window to Kaoru's left.
He wipes the awed expression from his face before turning back to Kojiro, although the man's grin is shit-eating enough to let Kaoru know he might have been caught looking impressed anyway. He glares and opens his mouth, about to say something to get that grin off of Kojiro's face, but he is cut off by the chef serving them their first dish.
Sweet Hokkaido crab, with the meat served beautifully on the shell, is placed in front of Kaoru. His mouth immediately waters, already expecting a good meal just judging by the look of the plate alone.
He jumps when he feels a hand sliding on top of his beneath the counter. "My friend says it's a good day today," Kojiro whispers low right by Kaoru's ear. "They don't always get shipments from Hokkaido, so most people just get lucky with their reservations. He owes me, though, so…" He shrugs and winks at Kaoru. "Aren't you glad you have me?"
Kaoru does his best to look unimpressed. "Confident, aren't you?"
"Oh, I have reason to."
The crab dish, not surprisingly, is excellent. From there, it's a series of dishes more heavenly than the last: fried scallops, sweet and deliciously plump, served with mustard greens; fresh Iwate oysters; uni with Kanazawa sweet shrimps; probably the best bowl of Okinawa soba Kaoru has ever tasted; Kagoshima yellowtail tuna, sashimi style, and then followed by a grilled set in light sauce; tender Agu pork served shabu-shabu style; and as though Kaoru isn't full enough, the best, most melt-in-your mouth Wagyu steak served with bitter greens salad and rice.
Along with the chef, the restaurant also boasts a renowned master of sake, who converses with the diners and recommends the best bottles to go with the food. Everything is, quite simply, excellent. No wonder the reservation list to the place is so long, because Kaoru would pay twice the price of it all if he could just return the following day.
"I am so mad you only got a reservation today and not the rest of the year," Kaoru complains later as he stuffs a complimentary pineapple in his mouth.
"Pretty sure I'll be broke within a week if I feed this to you daily," says Kojiro, sounding unimpressed, but he watches Kaoru eat as though vicariously eating pineapple through your… whatever Kaoru is, is the best way to enjoy it.
"I think I'll never be happy eating any type of food again."
"Wow, thanks. You know I'm a chef, right? Who even cooks for you regularly for free?"
After a quick chat with the chef, extending their thanks and compliments on the food, Kojiro eventually ushers them out of the restaurant.
The hotel itself sits along the coast of the island, so that even beyond its newly built area still extends its picturesque surroundings. The sun has already set, but the paths are lit by golden lights and lined by manicured hedges.
The two of them go down side by side along the walkways, two figures cutting through the otherwise fairly deserted garden paths and down the faintly lit promenade. The quiet between them is comfortable, as it has always been, even despite all the things that plague Kaoru’s mind every time he tries to sleep at night. But Kojiro’s presence, he finds, has always had a way with calming him down.
The salt in the air grows strong during their walk, and with it comes the chill. Before Kaoru can regret not taking his haori, Kojiro’s jacket drapes over Kaoru’s shoulders without being asked.
Kaoru looks up at Kojiro. “What’s this for?” he asks. Even as he does so, his chilled arms cozy up to the residual heat kept by the jacket from having just been worn by a human furnace like Kojiro.
“You’re cold, right?” is the response he gets. “And we both know I fare better in the cold than you do. Right now is just pleasantly cool for me."
“I’m not a girl you need to butter up, you know.”
Kojiro rolls his eyes at him. "You? A girl? I’ve wrestled enough times with you, Sakurayashiki, and I’m pretty sure I haven’t met a girl who punches the way you do. Not to mention, under that kimono--"
"Just stop talking, moron." Kaoru kicks Kojiro with a huff. Even so, he tucks himself further inside Kojiro's jacket and pulls it close at the front.
They resume walking, with only the sounds of the nearby waves to keep them company. Along the curves of the coast are golden city lights, and it’s a nice reminder of where they are, at home here in Okinawa. Kaoru has known what it’s like to be alone in Tokyo, even if it was to study for something he’s always loved, and Kojiro, of course, had his time in Italy. There were many times during those years that Kaoru wished he could fast-forward to the future and be together again, to talk and argue and skate together in person instead of through video calls and recorded stunts, too far from each other to see things first-hand.
Yes, he's liked Kojiro on and off in those years. Even with that though, Kaoru can honestly say that he never expected for things to go this way.
“Hey,” he says eventually, quietly.
Kojiro is a few steps ahead of him. He looks back at the call, hands in his pockets and the wind in his hair and with an expression on his face that’s as open as Kaoru has always known Kojiro to be. “Hmm?” the man asks.
“What are we doing, Kojiro?” Kaoru asks him.
This time, Kojiro does not immediately speak. He looks back at Kaoru, and it’s as if a dozen different things flit across his face. In the end though, he opts with, “What do you mean?”
Kaoru sighs. He looks out into the sea, the cold air blowing at his face. "Do you always take your fuck buddies on dates?"
They stop walking then.
"This is…” Kaoru goes on to say, still not quite managing to meet Kojiro's eyes. “Kojiro, what is this? We… we say we shouldn’t do this, and then forget that entire conversation after a drunken night? And this!” He gestures around them, on the jacket around his shoulders. “You take me out, you treat me to a nice place that I know is way over-budget and you--”
Kojiro huffs. “You tell me I’m cheap and then you complain when I spend money on you.”
“Well, it’s money you’re better off spending on something else, is what I’m saying!”
“Yeah, like what?” challenges Kojiro. “Like on 7-digit watches you give to childhood friends?”
“That’s not-- That was for a special occasion, you fucking ingrate!”
“So what if I want to spoil my childhood friend?” Kojiro goes on, voice now matching Kaoru’s. “My best friend? Maybe you’re not the only one who wants to do stuff like that, Kaoru!”
“I’m saying you don’t have to!”
“Maybe I want to!”
“Why? We're already fucking, so what do you even--"
"Because I want to date you, you dense four-eyes!"
The waves crashing against the sides of the promenade sound loud to Kaoru’s ears. That must be it, and he misheard, because there is no way he just heard Kojiro say what Kaoru thought he did. Across from him though, Kojiro looks as wide-eyed as Kaoru feels. Then he just looks pained, and he rakes a hand along his already wind-mussed hair as he looks out across the water.
“Jesus Christ, Kaoru,” Kojiro huffs out.
“Say…” Kaoru begins to say, though he has to swallow to get the words out right. “Say that again.”
“Ugh, you little piece of shit.” Kojiro turns back to him. “I said I want to date you. Okay? Not just sleep with you, or fuck you and then get kicked out immediately after. Oh! And this whole not kissing thing? It’s dumb.”
Kaoru bristles at that. “You agreed!”
”I know I agreed!” Kojiro throws his head back. “Fuck, I know I did. I probably… I probably would have agreed to anything. I like you, Kaoru. Always… always kind of have.”
“You’re kidding.”
Kojiro's face does a funny twitch. “Do I look like I’m kidding?”
"What do you mean by always have?" Kaoru insists. "When did you even think that would be a good idea?"
“Since high school? Maybe?” says Kojiro. “But I mean, you’re right. I wasn’t sure if that was a good idea. I didn’t know the first thing about being with a guy, and it's not something you just blurt out, is it? Not when I'm not even sure. And you’re my best friend, and you're… you're not something I want to fuck up.
“Italy was maybe the first time I gave myself the chance to explore that part of myself. Gods, I… I missed you so much when I was there. And then having you there with me… Kaoru, it was all I could do not to jump you every night I had you in my bed. But I also didn't know what it’d be like to have you hate me for it. It'd kill me not to be able to talk to you, so of course I couldn’t tell you, then. And besides, I wasn’t sure it’d work out. I didn’t want to be not sure. Not with you.”
“So what changed?” asks Kaoru. “Why are we doing this now?”
Kojiro just sort of smiles, but it looks unsure and just this side of timid. He scratches at the back of his head in a way that reminds Kaoru of how he’s like, sitting behind Kaoru’s seat in high school. “To be honest? I woke up with a hangover and you were in my bed." At the look Kaoru gives him, Kojiro just shrugs. "I'm not a saint. And I've been holding back for years."
“So that’s it?" Kaoru asks, incredulous. "Years of not doing anything and suddenly we’re naked in bed and all those go out the window?”
“What do you want me to say, Kaoru? Yes! I’m easy! Very much so when it comes to you. Is that what you want to hear? Considering how much you've already cost me in free meals, one would think that much is obvious!” Kojiro takes a deep breath. “Look, I know… I know it’s not the best way to go about things. But it’s been so long that even if I'm starting to want more with you, I don’t even know how to do that. I agreed with what you wanted because I also didn't want for so many things to change, but I want a chance, Kaoru. I don’t know how to ask for it. Please help me out.”
Kaoru can only stare, blinking up at Kojiro. “Are you seriously asking for my help to ask me out?”
Kojiro just sort of shrugs and grins that familiar boyish grin of his. “You’re my best friend, right? Isn’t that your job?”
“Listen here, you--" Kaoru starts, grabbing at Kojiro’s shirt because it's either this or he gives in to an oncoming meltdown. “Are you actually a fucking moron, just go listen to yourself--”
That’s when Kojiro steps in, his warm hands wrapping around Kaoru’s wrists where his hands are wound tightly on Kojiro’s clothes. His face is suddenly too serious for Kaoru’s nerves, and the way his hand brushes so painfully gently at Kaoru’s face does not help in the slightest.
“Kaoru,” he says, voice uncharacteristically nervous. “Do you… like me? At all? Not just as a friend.”
Kaoru’s cheeks must be so red, they’re visible from across the hotel. “I fucking sleep with you, don’t I?”
“No, but I mean…” Kojiro takes a breath. “What about more than that? What if I want… keys to your place, and you to mine? I mean, sure, I like waking up to you in my bed, hair all mussed and with that look on your face that tells me I fucked you well and good the night before–”
“Listen to me, you disgusting piece of–”
“But I also want to keep cooking you breakfast. And call me unoriginal, but I love it when you wear my clothes and nothing else on weekends. We can continue as we have always been at S, if you like, but we don’t hide that we leave together, or arrive together. And if the kids ask if we’re dating, we tell them.”
Kaoru scrunches his nose at the idea. “Is that wise?”
Kojiro only laughs. “Who cares? They already suspect something’s up, and if I could get Hiromi to stop giving me looks, I’d count that as a win. And if you ask me, I think Reki and Langa could use having someone around to… you know.”
“Woe be to those kids if we’re the role models they need in life–”
But Kaoru doesn’t get to finish, because Kojiro leans in to kiss him then. Kaoru expected himself to jump, to instinctively push the other away and remind him they don’t do this. But the truth is that whatever else Kaoru might have to say—about their setup, about their unfortunate influence on the kids at S—all fade away like sea foam. He melts into that kiss, not their first but feeling like it. He breathes in the salt in the air and Kojiro’s cologne while Kojiro kisses him deep, teeth sinking into Kaoru’s lips, hungry with his tongue sweeping inside Kaoru's mouth to taste, arms wound tightly around Kaoru, warming him all over.
Kojiro kisses him, and kisses him and kisses him, getting Kaoru drunk on the taste of him and the idea that Kojiro wants this, that he's just confessed to wanting more in this. It's Kaoru who chases after him when Kojiro starts to pull away, so Kojiro returns to kiss him again, groaning low. When he leans back to look at Kaoru, his face is flushed, eyes blinking slow and drowsy. “Kaoru,” he whispers, needy and without shame, and he kisses Kaoru one more time before pressing their foreheads together. “You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to do that.”
Kaoru swallows. "I might have some idea," he tells him. His body tingles with the memory of wanting to kiss Kojiro and not doing it for the longest time, and it tingles with the memory of kissing him just now and the revelation that yes, kissing Kojiro is all that he hoped for and more.
Kojiro smiles, helpless and fond. “Come up with me. I booked a room here,” he says as he goes on to pepper kisses on and around Kaoru's lips.
“That’s awfully optimistic,” says Kaoru, feeling just as flushed as Kojiro looks. “And is that wise? I bet your wallet's crying by now.”
“You’re spectacularly rude, you know that, right?” Even as he says it though, Kojiro is laughing. “I haven't gone out or seen other people in a while, so you'll be surprised. I've got enough for you, Princess, trust me.”
Somehow, they find their way back to the hotel. They even manage not to be all over each other at the lobby, although if anyone was manning the security cameras at the elevator, they probably got a good eyeful.
Kojiro had booked a suite, and Kaoru might have more to say about that unnecessary luxury given the state of the man’s finances—nevermind what Kojiro claims—had Kojiro not pressed him up against the door as soon as they got it closed. All other thoughts fly out the window then, no space for anything else save for Kojiro's mouth on his and Kaoru's fingers buried in Kojiro’s hair.
Kojiro starts pawing at Kaoru’s obi, then the knots underneath. The kimono opens in no time, and Kojiro's hands are hot as they sweep across Kaoru’s skin. Kaoru moans into the kiss as Kojiro finds a nipple and squeezes, fights to catch his breath as Kojiro plays with his chest and trails kisses down his neck.
“I’m so crazy about you, I don’t know how you’d think we’re just fucking,” Kojiro says into his neck. “I wanted to kiss you so badly, Kaoru.”
"Just shut up, will you?" Kaoru grabs both sides of Kojiro's face and kisses him quiet, because while that information is comforting, it is also immensely embarrassing.
"Why?" Kojiro asks, daring to laugh because he's a little shit like that. "It's true."
"Idiot, that's not the point."
Kojiro chooses that time to knock Kaoru's legs apart. He slips a thigh in and presses against Kaoru in a way that gets Kaoru crying out to the opposite walls of the suite. "I think you underestimate how good you look all flushed and embarrassed, Sensei."
Kojiro’s hand finds Kaoru’s cock and gives him a slow squeeze. His eyes are intent on Kaoru as the other keens at the handling and arches back against the door.
“Fuck.” The word sounds punched out of Kojiro, as though it was his dick that was getting the attention. His eyes never leave Kaoru’s face, lips even open in a look of awe as he starts working Kaoru’s cock, pumping it up and down until Kaoru is fully hard and gasping. “God, look at you. You’ve ruined me for anyone else, Kaoru—like I’ve always known you would.”
Kaoru barely has time to unpack that statement before Kojiro kisses him again and all but carries him to bed. They land in a clumsy, tangled heap, but they waste no further time and start pulling off the rest of their clothes. Kojiro apparently comes fully prepared, because he’s spreading Kaoru’s legs in no time, hand already slick with lube.
"I don't--" Kaoru wheezes as Kojiro pushes him down and seems keen on thoroughly preparing him. "I don't need it, dumbass!"
He doesn’t, not when they sleep together as often as they do. Looking back, it doesn’t seem as though Kojiro would have had the time to sleep around considering what they’ve been doing and how often, but hindsight is 20/20.
"Yeah, but…" Kojiro slides his fingers in again, pushes them in deep. Those fingers know Kaoru too well, curving and pushing against his prostate in a way that has Kaoru keening and twisting on the covers. "Gods, Kaoru. You look so good on my fingers."
Despite having done this so many times before, Kaoru can feel his face go red up to his ears. He shoves at Kojiro, who only laughs at his efforts before fucking him in even deeper, intent on pulling out as much sounds from Kaoru even as Kaoru fights to give him the satisfaction. To be fair, he doesn’t try very hard, and especially not when Kojiro leans down to coax the annoyance out of him through gentle nips and kisses that should not make Kaoru tear up the way they do.
Kojiro is soon laying him out on the bed again. He pulls both of Kaoru’s legs so one rests around Kojiro’s hip, the other just casually dangling over Kojiro’s shoulder. This one, the man playfully bites at, right at the calf. The smile he wears is dazzling, open and so effortlessly handsome. It kind of grates at Kaoru’s nerves.
“If I ever find you with anyone else after this,” Kaoru says as Kojiro reaches for a condom and rips it open expertly with his teeth, “I will crush your dick with your own board, you got that?”
“Baby, please,” Kojiro says with a laugh. Kaoru bristles at the pet name, and maybe also tingles with it so his mouth doesn’t protest it this time around. “I haven't wanted to be with anyone else in ages.”
He slides in deep, feeling both deliciously familiar and somehow also thrillingly new. Kaoru can’t hold back the sounds he makes as Kojiro bottoms out, can’t help but grab at him when he starts feeling overwhelmed. Kojiro towers over him, frames him between bulging arms that flex beneath Kaoru’s palms and it's deliriously good, especially when Kojiro leans down to lick between Kaoru’s parted lips, kissing him in time with the slow thrusts.
“Faster,” Kaoru hisses out, urging him on.
“Mm, not yet,” says Kojiro, not losing rhythm. He kisses Kaoru, long and sweet and it makes Kaoru’s fingers curl around messy green hair. “Wanna make this last.”
And he does. He teases them both, pulling out in that slow, deliberate way that gets the both of them clutching at the sheets. He thrusts back in so his cock slides long and hot inside Kaoru, so good as he hits that sweet spot every time. He has Kaoru bucking up to meet him each time, desperate for what he has to give, mind blank, unable to to recall a time he was ever fucked this long and this good before. The heat of the room builds so they are sweat-slick and panting, Kaoru’s fingers slipping down Kojiro’s shoulders, arms, and wherever else he tries to hold on. Kojiro takes his hand and squeezes him through it, riding the high with him, kissing him breathless.
Kojiro gets them tittering at the edge twice before slowing to a stop, pulling back, unwilling yet to let them go. He laughs when Kaoru curses and hits him when he does it a third time, but even then, he doesn’t let them finish, apparently intent on edging Kaoru out all night.
"If I see sunlight before I get to come, Kojiro, I swear to God--"
"Don't pretend you don't secretly love this, kinky four-eyes."
Kojiro gets Kaoru on his knees, his broad chest flush against Kaoru's back. His hands are immovable as they hold on to Kaoru's arms, keeping him in place. Kaoru keens and grinds desperately back against Kojiro's cock, wanting him deeper.
Kojiro isn't faring any better. "God, Kaoru." His teeth scrape against Kaoru's shoulder, sinking in every thrust or so. "God, baby, that's it. Just like that. One more time for me."
This time, when Kojiro dangles them over the edge, an unmoving wall on top of Kaoru who curses and threatens him if he doesn't finish fucking him, he only does it for a minute before he's turning Kaoru around. He pushes him once again on his back, spreads his legs and bends him near in half. Kaoru's flexible enough for it, and it's always satisfying seeing the fire in Kojiro's eyes whenever Kaoru reminds him of it. He pushes at the back of Kaoru's legs so his knees are up to his ears, and when he fucks him, he goes down mercilessly deep.
"Kojiro, fuck!" Kaoru could only moan out as Kojiro holds him down for it, his body aching to twist and arch up to him except Kojiro won't let him move, forcing him to just keep taking it. "Fuck, I'll come. Please, God, Kojiro, I need it, please, please let me this time--"
"Yeah." Kojiro's own breaths come hard and fast, in time with his thrusts that are growing equally desperate. He bends down to kiss Kaoru, wet and hungry and dirty, words and encouragements just streaming out of his mouth. "Come on, Kaoru. You can come, baby, that's it. You're so pretty, just like this. God, I love you, come on, just come, baby, come on--"
And Kaoru does, bucking up so hard he manages to twist out of Kojiro's grip. His cock pulses, untouched, painting them both with come. Kojiro fucks him through it, raining kisses all over Kaoru's face and neck. It takes only a few thrusts more before he, too, is groaning and tensing up above Kaoru, body curving over him, head pressed on Kaoru's shoulder. He goes still, buried inside Kaoru.
It takes a while for them to come down. Even as Kaoru feels like he can recover, Kojiro seems to need another moment, his grip tightening—albeit weakly—every time Kaoru moves.
"I can't breathe, you heavy gorilla." The insult is already second-nature, but it sounds half-hearted at best. Kaoru supposes he's too fucked out for that to matter.
"Give me a break," complains Kojiro, still lying like the dead on top of Kaoru.
It takes some maneuvering to get Kojiro to untangle his limbs from Kaoru and roll off of him. Kaoru lets out an involuntary moan when Kojiro pulls slowly out, which earns him a dirty, lip-bitten look from Kojiro that has Kaoru slapping him on the arm.
"Stop that," he scolds. "I can't yet. Not after you wrung me dry like that."
"Oh, Princess, neither can I," says Kojiro. "But it's such a good look on you that it makes me want to try."
Kaoru would kick him if he could, but Kojiro is faster. He wraps his arms around Kaoru and rolls them so Kaoru is on top of him, and when Kaoru looks down at him, there is a relaxed smile on his face.
“So?” Kojiro says to him. He brushes Kaoru's hair back, tender and sweet.
It's that soft, dumb look that does Kaoru in—or so he likes to think. He still huffs out a breath and rolls his eyes out of principle though. "The no kissing rule is dumb," he concedes. "We can abolish it by dating, if we must."