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ninoexchange2016-06-21 05:54 am
nino-mod.livejournal.com) wrote in ninoexchange2016-06-21 05:54 am
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64907 (3/3)
For: 64907
From:lover_youshould
Part 2
v.
It's three months, one week, four days when the message arrives in his inbox.
Can we talk?
Nino's head fills with possible responses, everything from Sorry, my schedule is packed to Oh, so now is a good time for you?, but he lets it sit. He can recognize now that impulsive decisions are what got him here in the first place. Jun can wait a few days, he reasons. It's only fair.
Inevitably, though, his mind continuously drifts back to it throughout the day. It drudges up more and more panic each time, filling his sleep that night with restless, nonsensical nightmares. It's been a few weeks since he's had to use the breathing exercise Ohno taught him, but he finds himself using it the next morning, standing in his kitchen while his coffee brews.
He reaches for his phone and inhales to the count of four. He opens Jun's message from yesterday.
He types in, About what? A moment of hesitation, and then he presses send. Exhales to the count of eight.
The reply comes in before he's finished his coffee, his phone pinging quietly where he left it by the pot.
Us.
Then, seconds later: Please.
Nino owes Jun nothing, he reminds himself later. He's out on the balcony, sipping his second cup of coffee between drags off a cigarette, his phone left behind in the kitchen. He doesn't want to look at it again until he makes a decision, but once he's out there, he decides quickly.
He owes Jun nothing. But he can allow him this.
~
Valentine's Day is around the corner, and then spring after that. The cherry trees will blossom soon, the cafe is already decked out with pink paper hearts strung up by red string, and business is picking up the way it always does as the threat of romance looms over everyone's head. Nino's buried in his phone, negotiating prices with a new client who wants him to show up with handmade chocolates and a schoolgirl uniform, when someone sits down at his table.
He braces himself with a deep breath, and he still isn't prepared for the sight of Jun in front of him. He looks the same, just as beautiful as Nino remembers, but also different somehow. There are circles under his eyes, and his hair is shorter, cut close around the sides. It's only been three months, yet he looks older as he sits there, hands folded together on the table, his fingers tapping out a nervous rhythm. Nino turns his phone's screen off, puts it away. He waits, more patient now than he's ever been.
The silence stretches between them, painfully awkward.
When Jun finally speaks, his voice is barely audible above the chatter of the cafe. "Can we go somewhere private?"
"Sure," Nino says, already standing. He wants this to be over quickly. "There's a love hotel a few blocks away." He pushes his chair in and gathers his things as Jun stands, empty-handed, car keys jingling in his coat pocket. As they walk out the door together, Nino says over his shoulder, "I'll pay. I don't want there to be any confusion about why we're here."
His only regret in saying it is not being able to see Jun's face.
~
They used to stand there for minutes on end, Jun's hand at the small of Nino's back, both of them laughing about the different options until they found something new and rushed to get there. Now, the whole experience feels alien. They stand with enough space between them to fit two other people and pick a room at random, then wander inside slowly, purposeless.
Nino feels tense where he stands against the wall, his arms crossed, watching Jun sit stiffly on a corner of the bed.
"I'm not sure where to start," Jun says. Even here, alone, he sounds quiet.
"Well," Nino says, "you should start somewhere. Soon, please. I'm tired of waiting for you."
Jun looks away, pain -- guilt? -- flashing through his eyes. "I'm sorry." The more he talks, the more Nino can hear the hoarseness in his voice. "I've been... confused."
"About how your phone works?"
Something in Jun's face changes as he looks back up at Nino. His eyebrows are drawn low, that telltale crease between them. "You're being unfair."
"What's unfair about it? I'm hearing you out, you're just not saying anything." Nino throws his arms to the side, unable to stand still any longer as the anger and the hurt boil up inside of him. "But hey, if you want to talk about things that are unfair, I have plenty to say. Let's start with you leaving me with no goodbye, no warning -- or maybe I should have taken the months before that as a warning, when you kept pushing me further and further away, like you had to protect yourself from me --"
He's startled into silence when Jun stands in a rush, jabbing a finger in Nino's direction. There's a meter of space between them, but Nino feels the gesture like it was a shove to his chest. "Don't talk to me about what's fair and unfair," Jun snaps. "You of all people! You -- you made me..."
"What about me, huh? What did I make you do?"
He's ready to keep going, but every last word flies right out of his head when Jun shouts, "You made me happy!"
Now that Jun has said it, he looks lost -- broken. Something inside of Nino softens at the sight of him, makes all the anger melt away. He takes a step forward, speaking quietly as he says, "I thought that's what you wanted."
"Not like that. Not the way you did it." Jun's eyes are wide and bright, the way Nino has seen them a thousand times before, but not like this. "That last night we spent together, it... it was the best sleep I've had in years. All the pain, all the confusion, it just disappeared, and when I woke up in the morning and saw you there... I told myself that I didn't want it to be the last time. And then I started thinking about everything that came before it. I remembered that to you, it was just a job. That you couldn't even try to pretend you got anything else out of it. Do you know how that feels, Kazu? What it's like to spend all of your time looking forward to being with the person who makes you happiest, only to remember that to them you're just a game?"
Nino's heart is beating wildly as frantic thoughts race through his mind. How could Jun be so off the mark? How could he have misunderstood Nino's feelings so utterly? "Jun, no," he tries, reaching for Jun, wincing when Jun only steps away from him. "It wasn't. It wasn't just a job."
"Then why didn't you answer?" Jun asks, his voice quieter now, losing steam. "Why did you say no?"
Those are two very different questions with very different answers. Nino grasps for the easier one, wanting only to make Jun understand. "You asked me to run away with you, Jun. Of course I said no. Do you think I can just leave everything behind at the drop of a hat? Do you think either of us can do that?"
He sees the struggle of emotions on Jun's face. There's anger and hurt, then desperation. Suddenly Jun is crossing the space between them, grasping at Nino's hands, dropping to his knees. "But you can, Kazu, you can, don't you see? I'll -- I'll do everything, I'll buy you an apartment, I'll give you anything you need --"
"You can't own me, Jun." He reaches out, slowly, and runs a hand through Jun's hair -- trying to offer comfort in any small way he can. "I don't do this because I want to be someone's pet. And if you think it hurts now, imagine coming home to me every day and knowing it's only because you're paying me to be there. Neither of us wants that."
In the dim light of this seedy, anonymous hotel room, Jun's eyes are shining. He lowers his face, presses his forehead to their joined hands, and in a voice almost too quiet for Nino to hear, he says, "But I love you."
Those are the words that finally break Nino's heart. Now that Jun has said it, he can't take it back, and the admission of it brings everything into sharp relief yet changes nothing. It doesn't undo the mistakes they've both made, every lapse in judgment that has led them to this point. All Nino can do now is pull his hands from Jun's to tilt his face back up -- all he can do is kneel and press his lips softly to Jun's mouth. "You don't even know me," he whispers. "Not really. Didn't that ever occur to you?"
The question sobers Jun. All at once, his expression hardens, shifting back into something not quite neutral but far less open. He stands, takes three steps back, towards the door. "You're right," he says, more hoarse now than before. He says again, "You're right." He blinks hard, clears his throat. "That's why I needed to see you today. I've spent all these months wondering, and I just... I just need you to tell me truth, okay? Just this once, and then I'll never contact you again. It doesn't matter what it is, I just -- I just need to know."
"I promise," Nino says. He wants so badly to reach for Jun, to pull him away from the door, but he feels pinned in place, feels his heartbeat speeding up.
Jun turns away, just for a moment, and then looks back to Nino, his gaze unwavering. "Was any of it ever real?"
Nino's first instinct is anger, then indignation at the thought that after everything they've been through, Jun could ever think to accuse him of that. But after the indignation comes defeat. In his heart he knows Jun's fear is justified, because the truth is that to Nino, it was a game all along. Even when he started to realize it was something more, he never stopped playing by his own rules. Even when he tried to be honest, he never showed his hand. In the face of all that, how could Jun trust him?
Ever since Jun reappeared after months of silence, all Nino has wanted to do is tell him, You hurt me. You took from me everything I thought I knew about myself. But the more accurate version is that it was Nino who allowed himself to be hurt by giving Jun nothing to work with, nothing to measure by. When every move Nino made was carefully engineered with the intention of remaining opaque, Jun had no way of knowing when he was being sincere, when he was in pain. Lost at sea, not knowing where they stood -- that's how Nino has felt this whole time, but now he realizes that's where he left Jun, too.
Jun has every right to doubt him now, and Nino knows the only way he can ease any of it is to stop, to shed his layers upon layers of disguises and half-truths, to end the game and finally let Jun see inside of him.
Against every instinct, every shred of self-defense screaming at him to run away, he steps forward instead. He reaches for Jun's hand, thankful beyond all belief when Jun takes it.
He doesn't answer Jun's question -- not yet. Instead he says, "There's something I need to show you."
~
In the car, he programs his address into Jun's phone and lets the GPS fill the awkward silence. He uses the time to ramp himself up, channeling all his nerves into energy, and there are lots of nerves. He lets his thoughts run to the rhythm of his breathing exercises, inhaling and exhaling as quietly as he can with his face turned towards the window, and luckily Jun either doesn't notice or chooses not to comment on it.
They don't speak as they walk through his building's lobby, or as they ride the elevator up to his floor. In the entryway Jun asks, "What are we doing here?", but Nino just points out the guest slippers and heads for the bedroom.
Jun follows him but hovers in the doorway, eying the bed warily. "Kazu, I don't..."
Nino holds up a hand to silence him. "Just shut up and hear me out." He guides Jun to the bed and makes him sit on the edge, and then he steps away to stand in front of the closet, leaning his weight against the door as he tries to explain. "That night, when you asked me what I get out of all this... I couldn't answer because I didn't know how. I used to know, and then you came along and got me all screwed up. That's why I couldn't answer, Jun, do you get it? I was confused too. I didn't know what was going on in my own head. Because of you."
Jun is holding very still, his face pale. He gives a little nod of understanding.
Nino forces himself to keep going. "Once I figured it out, I wanted to tell you everything, but then you disappeared. That fucked me up, by the way, thanks a lot, but the point is that you never gave me a chance to come clean, so you get to hear it now. All of it. Ready?"
Jun says, "Um."
Nino holds up one finger. "Secret number one. I know you're Matsumoto Jun of Matsumoto Enterprises."
It's like all of Jun's features change at once: his face goes red, his eyebrows furrow, his mouth closes into such a tight line that it looks like it might vanish altogether. "How --"
Nino holds up a second finger, cutting him off. "Secret number two. I know the day you came back from Seoul was your birthday."
This time Jun drops his head into his hands. "Oh my god."
"We're not done yet," Nino says.
Jun peeks out through his fingers. "What other horrifying secrets of mine could you have possibly uncovered?"
"Not yours. Next one's mine." He steps aside, motioning to the closed door. "I hope you're prepared, because secret number three must be seen to be believed."
Jun is already on his feet as Nino opens the door. He walks towards it cautiously, as if he's afraid it might be a trap, but as he gets close enough to see what's inside, he glances back at Nino with a startled expression.
Nino says nothing. He knows it's a lot to take in, so he stays quiet and lets Jun absorb it. He watches as Jun walks through the closet with huge eyes, his mouth open just a little. Nino suspects it's not the amount that shocks him so much as the way it's all laid out, clearly with purpose -- with reverence -- each shelf organized just so, the whole space devoted to nothing but the relics of Nino's escapades. The toys, the outfits, the binder filled with business cards and used-up gift certificates, and there, in the corner...
"That wasn't always there," Nino says, now leaning against the doorframe so he can watch Jun. Jun looks up at him, and he points towards the guitar. "It lived by my bed. But then you left, and..." He trails off, unsure of how to encapsulate the nerve-wracking mix of emotions that led to the guitar being moved into the closet, but he figures Jun can fill in the blanks.
The guitar seems to have inspired Jun, because now he's scanning the shelves as if he's looking for something. There, on the shelf filled with rope and harnesses and a dozen pairs of handcuffs: the leather cuffs Jun bought for their first session. Then he goes to the rack of clothes, shifting through the hangers until he finds the suit Nino wore to their dinner. Even the wingtips are there, underneath the rack, set neatly into a lineup of other dress shoes, a pair of heels here and there. Jun crouches to run his fingertips over a pair of sequin-covered pumps. He looks back up at Nino and asks, "Are you into all of this stuff?" He doesn't look repulsed or judging. Just curious.
Nino shrugs. "Some of it. Crossdressing, for instance, doesn't really do anything for me. But it's not about what I like."
"What do you mean?"
This part's easy; Nino's never thought about it more than he has since he met Jun. "I don't have to like something," he says, "to appreciate that someone wanted me to have it."
Jun seems to understand that, or at least accept it, because he stands up and steps back towards the door. They walk out into the bedroom together, Nino moving to stand beside the bed, Jun looking a little shell-shocked as he stands in front of the still-open door. He glances into it one more time, then back to Nino. "Is it some kind of... trophy collection?"
God, it's the same thing Aiba calls it. "It's complicated," Nino says. "But it's also simple. For a long time, this was my answer to your question. The entire answer. Happiness, comfort, love -- this was all of it. I cherished that room. I got off on it. And, in the interest of being completely honest with you, let me be clear: when I say I got off on it, I don't just mean that it brought me satisfaction. I mean that standing in that stupid closet literally gives me a hard-on because somehow my brain is wired to think that wealthy men spending their money on me is the most mind-numbingly sexy thing in the world. That's so fucked up and it scares me so much that I can't even think about it head-on, so I push it to the back of my mind and just keep chasing after it."
Jun takes a step towards him. "Kazu..."
But Nino keeps talking. He can't stop now. "The craziest part is that everything I just told you is still true. My job, this collection, it's all still important to me. But now you've thrown me completely for a loop. You made me realize that love and happiness can look like other things too. You forced me to admit to myself that you're important to me now. And Jun, you have to believe me when I say that I want to hold on to that. I want to see where you and I can go together. That's why I brought you here and showed you this, because -- because I knew I couldn't try to make it work until I fixed all the ways I already fucked up, and the only way to do that is to come clean. So here it is. I'm coming clean. And if you think any of that is unforgivable, if you just want to walk out of here and never speak to me again, I understand. I just... I just needed you to know."
As soon as the last words have left his mouth, Nino feels drained. He's never said any of that to anyone in his life -- he can barely even say it to himself on most days. He's done such a good job of ignoring it that talking about it now feels unreal, like he's standing somewhere outside of his own body, watching himself watch Jun, who hasn't moved an inch, his face caught in some unreadable expression that makes Nino feel even more like he's starting to go crazy.
If Jun is angry, that's fine. If Jun spits in his face and storms out, that's fine, Nino can deal with all of that. It's the not knowing that's making his heartbeat kick up and his throat tighten with the sudden urge to be sick -- it's always the not knowing --
It feels like forever, but finally Jun reacts, blinking into motion. He takes a single step towards Nino. "I don't think I really understand it," he says, slow, like he's choosing his words carefully. "Not... fully. Not yet. But I want to. If it's part of you, Kazu, then I want to know."
It takes a few seconds for the information to process through Nino's frazzled brain. He feels detached, numb but for the rapid beating of his heart and the queasy rolling of his stomach, and then Jun's words catch up to him all at once, washing over him inside and out. Suddenly he is thrust back into his own body and is wholly overwhelmed by what he's heard, by the revelation that Jun would ever accept this part of him.
He stumbles backwards and feels his knees hit the edge of the bed. "O--okay," he stutters, but it comes out wheezy and he realize that he's panting, nearly gasping.
Jun is watching him, his eyes wide and a little scared. "Are you...?"
Nino blinks, and something about it feels... strange. He touches his fingertips to the corner of his eye and feels that it's wet. His eyes snap back up to Jun, who looks as horrified as he feels, and before he can even think about it, he barks out, "Turn around!"
"But --"
"Turn around!"
Jun whips around, and Nino does too, clenching his eyes shut and feeling the red-hot buzzing in his head spill down his cheeks. He scrubs his hands over his face, trying to wipe away every last drop of evidence, but he can't breathe and he can't think. He leans over the bed, grips the sheet so hard his knuckles hurt, tries to count to four.
"Kazu." Jun sounds a touch desperate. "Kazu, there's a huge dildo staring at me, can I please look now?"
Nino doesn't answer, just rasps out, "I think I'm gonna throw up."
His vision is swimming, but then he feels Jun beside him, Jun's warm hands around his shoulders. He vaguely registers Jun saying something about fresh air, and then he's being led out of the room, through the hallway and out onto the balcony. As soon as the door is open he drops onto his hands and knees, foregoing the deck chairs. He feels cold air in his lungs and knows it must mean he's breathing.
Jun kneels beside him, a hand on his back. "Are you okay?"
Nino just keeps breathing. He closes his eyes, holds a hand up so Jun can follow along as he counts on his fingers. Four in, eight out. Four in, eight out.
He goes through it six, maybe seven times, until his heartbeat has finally slowed back down to normal. He shifts around to sit on his ass, his legs splayed out in front of him, and shoos Jun out onto the deck so he can slide the door to the living room closed and lean back against it. Jun sits next to him, leaning forward to see his face. "What just happened?"
"Secret number four," Nino says. He still feels a little lightheaded, a little nauseated. He tips his head back against the door and closes his eyes, reaching blindly into the fake flowerpot a few feet away until he finds his emergency cigarettes, a lighter already tucked inside the pack. He shows it to Jun with a mumble of "Secret number five" and pulls out a cigarette. He lights it, breathes in deep and lets the rush of nicotine drift down over him like a comforting blanket. "That never used to happen, by the way. I was pretty messed up while you were gone."
"You mentioned."
"Secret number six: being in control is -- or was, I dunno -- the most important thing in my life. I always had to know more than anyone else, had to be able to direct the flow of a conversation or a night or a relationship or whatever. So, when you left... and I had no idea what was going on or where you were, or where we stood, or if you would ever come back..." He takes another drag and taps the ash onto the floor. Fuck it, he'll sweep later. "I guess I just didn't know how to deal with it."
Wordlessly, Jun reaches for the pack of cigarettes. He takes one out and lights it off of Nino's, and then he leans back and takes a few drags. Together they watch the smoke drift into the cloudy sky above them.
"I'm sorry," Jun says.
Nino shrugs. "I messed you up too. Let's call it even. Besides, you're here now. That's the important part."
Where his left hand is resting on the floor between their thighs, he feels Jun reach for him. He takes Jun's hand and laces their fingers together, holds on tight.
They sit there smoking, letting the chilly air turn their noses and cheeks red, enjoying the simple pleasure of being in each other's company after so long apart. Nino has felt like this before, even before he realized how deep in he was. He cherishes it now and doesn't plan on letting it go any time soon.
"Are you ready for more secrets?" he asks.
Jun laughs, tired and sincere. "Do I have a choice?"
"Nope. Here's everything I've got." Nino takes a breath, takes a drag. He steadies himself with a breath, and then he lets it all out.
"My full name is Ninomiya Kazunari, but my friends call me Nino. No one calls me Kazu except my clients. And my mom. Now that I'm saying it out loud like that, yeah, I see how it might be a little weird, but that's just how I've always done it. I have a degree in business finance, but I've never used it because I've been having sex with men in exchange for money and gifts since the month I graduated. I didn't plan on doing it for the rest of my life, it just kind of happened that way. I like having sex, a lot, with just about anyone, but something about being paid for it, by wealthy men in particular... that really gets me off, in a way I don't understand at all on good days and am kind of ashamed of on bad days, but obviously I've done a pretty good job of indulging it. I've never been in love with anyone in my life, but my best friend Aiba-chan insists I'm in love with you, and he might be onto something, maybe, a little bit. Honestly I don't know anymore what love even is to me. I used to think it was the inside of that closet, but now I'm not so sure. Maybe that is what love means to me, but only part of it, and what you and I have is a different kind of love, or maybe it's something else entirely -- I haven't really sorted it out. But I know for sure that you're not just a client. I know I want more with you than just that. And I'm willing to give whatever I can in return... even if I don't know what that is yet. I guess we can find out together."
Through the long silence that follows, he keeps staring ahead, unable to bear looking at Jun's face. But he feels Jun's fingers still entwined with his, still holding on.
Then: "That was a lot."
Nino takes a breath, lets it out slowly. "Yeah."
"Well... I think I'll stick to Kazu, since it's what I'm used to, but Nino is pretty cute. And I meant what I said in there. I might not understand it entirely yet, but I do want to know more, and for what it's worth, I don't think it's anything to be ashamed of. And I don't know if I can explain love either, but I'm glad you're willing to let me help you figure it out. And... I look forward to seeing what we can learn about each other."
Nino finally looks at Jun, at his wide-open eyes, always so honest even when he tries to keep himself hidden. Nino can't help but smile, can't stop himself from leaning in to kiss him, cigarette breath and all.
I look forward to seeing what we can learn about each other. He couldn't have said it any better himself.
vi.
When Nino opens the front door on Friday night, Jun is leaning rakishly against the doorframe. The sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up to his elbows, the knot of his tie is loosened, and he's holding his jacket over his shoulder along with a duffel bag. He's been working out more now that negotiations for the hotel expansion are wrapped up, and the result is that his chest and shoulders fill out that shirt even more handsomely than they did before. He's let his hair grow out a bit too, and now a few strands of it are curling over his forehead, just barely falling into his eyes.
The whole effect is quite devastating.
"Sorry," Nino says, "I don't buy things from door-to-door salesmen."
He's already swinging the door closed, but Jun stops it with his foot. He doesn't say a word, just lets himself in, steps out of his shoes, drops his bag and jacket on the floor and crowds Nino up against the wall to kiss him breathless.
"Dinner's on the table," Nino gasps. He has the top two buttons of Jun's shirt undone and is moving on to the third.
"Leave it," Jun says, punctuates it with another kiss. He gets his hands under Nino's ass and hoists him up until Nino's legs wrap around his waist, then carries him to the living room couch.
Yeah, Nino thinks. Dinner can wait.
~
Things Nino has learned about Jun over the weekends they've shared so far:
He's actually an excellent cook when there's no room service to order from.
Once the novelty of waking up next to Nino wears off, he's a monster to deal with in the morning before he's had his coffee.
He packs his little potted bonsai in the trunk every Friday morning so that he can bring it over with him for the weekend. It lives on Nino's kitchen counter, and he definitely talks to it when he thinks Nino can't hear. Its name is Ban.
He leaves hair in Nino's shower but always swears it wasn't him. ("It has to be yours, Jun, mine's not even that long!")
He spent the first few weekends acting hilariously formal around Nino's apartment, mumbling "Sorry for the intrusion" every time he walked in. Now that he's comfortable here, he struts around like he owns the place, rearranging the bathroom counter to make room for his stuff, cleaning out the fridge with no regard to what Nino swears is still edible, keeping the balcony tidy, keeping the sheets washed, taking over the kitchen so he can bring Nino breakfast in bed every now and again.
He sucks at Mario ("Because I never have time to play! You should have seen me when I was a kid!") and is a terribly sore loser.
He brings sleeping pills just in case but never needs them, nor does he need the TV to help clear his mind, though sometimes he likes to fall asleep on the couch with a flowery romance drama playing quietly, his legs thrown across Nino's lap.
~
Jun makes breakfast on Saturday, already smelling like coffee when he drags Nino out of bed with the promise of food and caffeine. "Wake up, Kazu~ I made omurice, your favorite."
"That's not my favorite," Nino grumbles.
"Yeah," Jun says, leading him out the door by his shoulders. "But I am."
Well, Nino can't argue with that.
At the table, Jun is browsing on his phone. "I wanna see what they have," he says, turning his phone around so Nino can see what he's looking at: reviews for the bakery they spotted down the street last weekend. "Maybe I'll pick up a nice loaf of bread for dinner."
Their days together are a mix of fucking, eating, and lazing about, a good balance that they've spent the past six months fine-tuning. So once the dishes from breakfast have been washed, they get dressed and take a walk, not daring to hold hands but delighting in bumping shoulders at every opportunity. "Oh sorry, didn't see you there," Jun says after nearly bowling Nino over as they're browsing the pastries at the bakery, a childish grin on his face.
"So clumsy," Nino tsks, and it just makes Jun laugh.
Jun buys his bread, they head back home, and Nino opens the balcony door to let some air in while Jun naps on the couch. He grabs his guitar from the stand beside the TV and sits out on the deck, trying to capture a melody that's been building in the back of his mind since last night. He strums it out in starts and stops, fills it in with some wordless vocalizations once he gets a feel for where the rhythm is taking him. He doesn't notice Jun moving around inside until he's walking out onto the deck, a fresh cup of coffee in one hand, newspaper in the other.
"You know," he says as he sits down, "I had the strangest dream."
Nino glances up at him, still strumming away. "Oh yeah? What was it about?"
"I was Mario and I had to rescue you, but instead of turtles and mushrooms, I was fighting those weird-looking strudels we saw this morning. And then when I finally got to you, you were all tied up and naked..."
"We should try to recreate it. Let's see if the bakery is still open."
Jun laughs, unfolding the paper over the table. "You always know just what to say."
~
Rule one: No more lies, half-truths, or omissions. Their priorities are honesty, transparency, openness in all things, with the understanding that "I'm not ready to talk about that" is an acceptable answer to any question.
Rule two: Nino still works like he always has, but Jun doesn't really want to hear about the details. That's fair, Nino thinks.
Rule three: Jun still needs to be cautious, still needs to choose carefully where they go out together and needs to have a story on hand in case he's recognized. It saddens Nino that Jun has to sneak around like that -- he wishes the very nature of their relationship weren't yet another addition to the long list of things stressing Jun out at any given moment -- but he understands why it's necessary. As long as Jun continues to be honest with him, he'll continue to be happy.
Rule four: Jun has Nino's weekends, but he isn't allowed to pay for their time together. No fee for their dates, no money in the account. Jun has gotten so used to doting on him that it takes a while before he stops "accidentally" leaving bills tucked into Nino's wallet, as if to make up for his intrusion on Nino's personal space, but Nino reminds him, over and over until it finally sticks. He doesn't want there to be any confusion between what he does for work and what he does with Jun. He doesn't want Jun to ever have to doubt again.
Rule five: Jun can still buy Nino gifts, of course, and he happily does so often, just because he wants to. Accessories for and maintenance of the guitar, clothes he thinks Nino would look good in, a new bed... a yearly subscription to Shonen Jump... None of these things live in the closet. They're special in a different way.
~
When Sunday morning rolls around, neither of them feels like moving after last night's recreation of Jun's rescuing-the-princess dream, so Jun thumbs through his phone until he finds a place that will deliver sandwiches to them. Nino loses janken, which means it's his job to get out of bed, make the coffee, and pay for the food when the delivery guy shows up.
Jun makes some grumpy noises about crumbs when Nino brings the sandwiches to bed, but he eats his there anyway, moaning happily about how perfect the sauce is.
He gets a work call around noon, so Nino moves into the living room and flips through channels on the TV until he finds some silly variety program. He's there for an hour before Jun joins him, and that's where they stay for the rest of the afternoon, until Jun finally springs into motion around six o'clock. "I totally forgot they're coming," he says, already halfway to the bedroom to fetch his duffel bag.
"So let them come," Nino calls, still watching the TV.
Jun shouts back, his voice approaching shrill, "Will you get in here and make yourself presentable, you sloth!"
Aiba and Ohno show up forty minutes later with a veritable feast of amazing-smelling food from Aiba's parents' restaurant. They spread everything out on the table in the living room and somehow manage to eat it all as they power through a Godzilla marathon.
Later, when the guys have gone home and Jun is cleaning up while Nino lounges on the couch and pats his full stomach, Jun calls from the kitchen, "Hey, I have a question for you."
"Hm?"
Jun pokes his head out of the doorway to say, "It's really serious." Something about the hint of a mischievous smile on his face leaves Nino skeptical.
"Uh-huh."
"How much would it cost for you to put on a Godzilla costume and call me Mothra while I fuck you?"
Nino throws a take-out container at him, and then makes him clean up the spilled noodles just for good measure. But when the clean-up is done and they're in the shower, he pins Jun against the wall and whispers in his ear, "For you, Mothra-san, I'd do it for free."
Jun shoves him face-first into the water spray, cackling the way he does when he's truly tickled. Nino never heard that laugh before they started sharing their weekends, but he hears it a lot these days, and it makes him smile every time -- even now as he's spluttering under the water.
After Jun stops trying to drown him, they go back to soaping up and rinsing off, but that only lasts so long before they inevitably start kissing. It's Jun's last night here, and Nino knows he won't get another chance like this until at least next Friday. So he decides now is as good a time as any to go for what he's been wanting ever since he opened the front door two nights ago.
When they first started this, it had been so long since Nino slept with anyone just to do it that there was a bit of a weird learning curve. After ten-plus years, it was just so ingrained in him to think of sex as a service he provided for someone else -- a service he thoroughly enjoyed providing, of course, but a service nonetheless. It took a while for him to untangle all of that from the things he actually wanted just for himself.
Jun finally had to sit him down one day and tell him, "Sometimes I feel like you're kind of... catering to me. It's nice and all, but I want to know what you like, too."
The first words out of Nino's mouth were "I like you, Jun," and then he realized what he was doing. "Shit, wait, I'm sorry. I meant -- no, that is what I meant, it's just --"
"It's all right," Jun said, reaching for Nino's hand and smiling like he was getting a real kick out of watching Nino stumble through his emotions. "I get it. You've been doing things a certain way for a long time. I just wanted to let you know that if there's anything you want, or anything you don't want, just tell me, okay?"
It took a long time for Nino to puzzle it all out. It started with little things, like reminding himself that he didn't have to exaggerate the sounds he made when Jun made him feel good. Once he got the hang of that, he started experimenting with asking for things too -- like the night he was on his back on the couch, and his legs were around Jun's waist, and it was great, but he thought of something that could make it just a little better.
"Do the thing," he gasped, clutching at Jun's arms. The fact that he was a little sex-stupid was testament to how good it already was.
"What thing?" Jun grunted.
"The leg thing -- do the leg thing --"
Jun stared at him for a few seconds, looking confused as he continued to thrust. Then he figured out what Nino meant, and he shifted them around so Nino's ankle was up by Jun's shoulder and Jun's hand was holding the back of Nino's knee, and the angle was so fucking perfect that when Nino finally got a hand around his dick, he came within just a few strokes.
Yeah. Asking for things turned out to be the right choice.
These days, it comes to him a lot more easily. As they're making out in the shower, all it takes is a little nudge, and then Jun is sinking to his knees, his eyes locked on Nino's the whole way down. He runs his palms up Nino's slippery thighs, gets his warm mouth on Nino's cock, and everything about it is exactly what Nino's been wanting. He works a hand into Jun's hair and then holds on tight when Jun lifts one of Nino's legs up to get his thigh over Jun's shoulder. Jun uses one hand to hold Nino's hips steady, and with the other he works one finger inside, then two, still working Nino over with his mouth like he's been waiting for this just as long as Nino has.
Nino tips his head back against the shower wall and lets his mind be blissfully empty -- no inclination to put on a show, no worry about holding back. He focuses only on Jun, the way Jun makes him feel, the way it feels to have Jun here with him.
He couldn't ask for anything more.
Of course, that feeling doesn't last forever. Jun makes him come and he returns the favor, and then they have to finish up in the shower so that Jun can gather all his things from around the apartment and fold his freshly laundered clothes into his bag. Nino busies himself with watering Ban, putting away the dishes, turning off the lights around the house. He goes out onto the balcony for a smoke, and Jun joins him halfway through, sneaking up from behind to wrap his arms around Nino's waist, his chin perched on Nino's shoulder.
Nino half-heartedly tries to shrug him off. "Your chin is so bony."
Jun isn't swayed. He holds on tighter, presses a sloppy smooch to the side of Nino's face. "I love you too."
Nino says nothing, just settles his free hand over one of Jun's and links their fingers together. He hasn't managed to say it yet, but he suspects Jun has caught on to the other ways he communicates it: the teasing jabs, the wordless songs he plays for Jun on his guitar, the way Jun stirs awake that night and catches Nino's fingers running through his hair.
"Go back to sleep, weirdo," Jun mumbles, half his face pressed into the pillow. Nino leans down to brush his lips against Jun's temple -- another not-so-secret code for what Nino hasn't yet dug up the courage to say in words.
I love you too.
~
Things Nino has learned about himself:
He's thrilled to spend his weekends with Jun but also cherishes his alone time.
Dealing with a grump in the morning bothers him less than he thought it would, whereas picking someone else's hair off his shower wall bothers him more.
Consistently sharing his bed with someone else bothers him way more than he thought it would, hence the king-sized gift from Jun.
Letting Jun into his life -- his entire life -- was terrifying at first, but Jun is constantly finding new ways to make it worth the initial dread. Every time Jun plays a video game with him even though he knows he'll lose, every time Jun watches Dragon Ball Z with him and they get into a heated debate over which character is cooler, every time Jun surprises him with home-cooked hamburgers for dinner, Nino is thankful for the choices he's made.
Despite his best efforts, he gets genuinely irritated whenever Jun jokingly suggests they open up the closet and find some good toys to use. ("It's my collection, Jun, those things are spe-- dammit, put that down, I don't care if you're the one who bought it for me!")
He knows it's impossible for him to make sure Jun is happy when he's away, but he feels proud and giddy and warm inside at the thought of making Jun happy every time he comes back.
And Jun makes him happy in return, tenfold. The first time they invited Aiba for lunch was perhaps the happiest he's ever been, even if Aiba did embarrass him by shouting "Holy crap, Nino, he is cute," and even if he did have to hide his uncontrollable smile behind his hand and thwack Aiba over the head for a million dirty jokes, and even if he did have to fuck the smug grin right off Jun's face later that night when he wouldn't shut up about it. ("Cute, huh? Just how cute did you tell him I was, Kazu? Like super cute, or ultra cute, or --")
Everything else, he's still figuring out. He knows there's more to unravel -- about himself, about Jun, about what love means for each of them individually, what it means for them together -- and though he's not thrilled about the idea of looking so deep inside himself, sorting through all the baggage he's long been ignoring, he happily anticipates having Jun along for the ride.
He doesn't expect every part of it to go smoothly, and many parts of it don't. But most of them do. That might be the most surprising thing of all.
~
On Monday Nino wakes up with Jun before the sun has even finished rising. They share a shivery cigarette on the balcony, and then Nino yawns his way through making breakfast while Jun showers and gets dressed. They eat together at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and going over their schedules for the day. Jun has an important conference call at noon, a meeting at two, a presentation at six that he expects will run late; Nino's seeing a new client in the afternoon and then hanging out with Aiba for dinner.
While Nino cleans up, Jun brushes his teeth, knots his tie, fusses with his hair in the mirror. Then he gathers up his things, duffel bag in one hand, Ban the bonsai in the other, ready for another day of work, another week away from Nino.
Perhaps the most important thing Nino has learned is that he can't predict, let alone manipulate, the unforeseeable future. In a year, will he and Jun still be together, or will they have decided that love -- their version of it -- wasn't all they thought it would be? In a few minutes, will he turn around and go back to bed, or will he pull out his guitar and try to refine that melody he's been working on? From his current vantage point, he can't see a way to answer either of those questions or any of the infinite questions in between. The best he can do is make the right choices in the present, be good to the people around him from day to day.
For now, Jun stands in his shoes in the entryway, Nino barefoot above him, the tips of his toes hanging over the edge as he leans down to kiss Jun goodbye. He slips in a little tongue just to put some pep in Jun's stride.
"Take care," he says, smiling against Jun's mouth, and Jun shifts the bonsai into his duffel-bag hand so he has an arm free to pull Nino into another kiss, unwilling to let go just yet.
Finally, reluctantly, they pull away. Jun's hand trails down Nino's arm to grasp at his fingers for just a few more seconds.
He steps back, slipping his hand out of Nino's to open the front door, the link severed but only for now.
"See you on Friday," Jun says.
Nino lets him go -- knows he'll be back -- sends him off with a smile.
"I'm looking forward to it."
64907From:
lover_youshouldPart 2
It's three months, one week, four days when the message arrives in his inbox.
Can we talk?
Nino's head fills with possible responses, everything from Sorry, my schedule is packed to Oh, so now is a good time for you?, but he lets it sit. He can recognize now that impulsive decisions are what got him here in the first place. Jun can wait a few days, he reasons. It's only fair.
Inevitably, though, his mind continuously drifts back to it throughout the day. It drudges up more and more panic each time, filling his sleep that night with restless, nonsensical nightmares. It's been a few weeks since he's had to use the breathing exercise Ohno taught him, but he finds himself using it the next morning, standing in his kitchen while his coffee brews.
He reaches for his phone and inhales to the count of four. He opens Jun's message from yesterday.
He types in, About what? A moment of hesitation, and then he presses send. Exhales to the count of eight.
The reply comes in before he's finished his coffee, his phone pinging quietly where he left it by the pot.
Us.
Then, seconds later: Please.
Nino owes Jun nothing, he reminds himself later. He's out on the balcony, sipping his second cup of coffee between drags off a cigarette, his phone left behind in the kitchen. He doesn't want to look at it again until he makes a decision, but once he's out there, he decides quickly.
He owes Jun nothing. But he can allow him this.
Valentine's Day is around the corner, and then spring after that. The cherry trees will blossom soon, the cafe is already decked out with pink paper hearts strung up by red string, and business is picking up the way it always does as the threat of romance looms over everyone's head. Nino's buried in his phone, negotiating prices with a new client who wants him to show up with handmade chocolates and a schoolgirl uniform, when someone sits down at his table.
He braces himself with a deep breath, and he still isn't prepared for the sight of Jun in front of him. He looks the same, just as beautiful as Nino remembers, but also different somehow. There are circles under his eyes, and his hair is shorter, cut close around the sides. It's only been three months, yet he looks older as he sits there, hands folded together on the table, his fingers tapping out a nervous rhythm. Nino turns his phone's screen off, puts it away. He waits, more patient now than he's ever been.
The silence stretches between them, painfully awkward.
When Jun finally speaks, his voice is barely audible above the chatter of the cafe. "Can we go somewhere private?"
"Sure," Nino says, already standing. He wants this to be over quickly. "There's a love hotel a few blocks away." He pushes his chair in and gathers his things as Jun stands, empty-handed, car keys jingling in his coat pocket. As they walk out the door together, Nino says over his shoulder, "I'll pay. I don't want there to be any confusion about why we're here."
His only regret in saying it is not being able to see Jun's face.
They used to stand there for minutes on end, Jun's hand at the small of Nino's back, both of them laughing about the different options until they found something new and rushed to get there. Now, the whole experience feels alien. They stand with enough space between them to fit two other people and pick a room at random, then wander inside slowly, purposeless.
Nino feels tense where he stands against the wall, his arms crossed, watching Jun sit stiffly on a corner of the bed.
"I'm not sure where to start," Jun says. Even here, alone, he sounds quiet.
"Well," Nino says, "you should start somewhere. Soon, please. I'm tired of waiting for you."
Jun looks away, pain -- guilt? -- flashing through his eyes. "I'm sorry." The more he talks, the more Nino can hear the hoarseness in his voice. "I've been... confused."
"About how your phone works?"
Something in Jun's face changes as he looks back up at Nino. His eyebrows are drawn low, that telltale crease between them. "You're being unfair."
"What's unfair about it? I'm hearing you out, you're just not saying anything." Nino throws his arms to the side, unable to stand still any longer as the anger and the hurt boil up inside of him. "But hey, if you want to talk about things that are unfair, I have plenty to say. Let's start with you leaving me with no goodbye, no warning -- or maybe I should have taken the months before that as a warning, when you kept pushing me further and further away, like you had to protect yourself from me --"
He's startled into silence when Jun stands in a rush, jabbing a finger in Nino's direction. There's a meter of space between them, but Nino feels the gesture like it was a shove to his chest. "Don't talk to me about what's fair and unfair," Jun snaps. "You of all people! You -- you made me..."
"What about me, huh? What did I make you do?"
He's ready to keep going, but every last word flies right out of his head when Jun shouts, "You made me happy!"
Now that Jun has said it, he looks lost -- broken. Something inside of Nino softens at the sight of him, makes all the anger melt away. He takes a step forward, speaking quietly as he says, "I thought that's what you wanted."
"Not like that. Not the way you did it." Jun's eyes are wide and bright, the way Nino has seen them a thousand times before, but not like this. "That last night we spent together, it... it was the best sleep I've had in years. All the pain, all the confusion, it just disappeared, and when I woke up in the morning and saw you there... I told myself that I didn't want it to be the last time. And then I started thinking about everything that came before it. I remembered that to you, it was just a job. That you couldn't even try to pretend you got anything else out of it. Do you know how that feels, Kazu? What it's like to spend all of your time looking forward to being with the person who makes you happiest, only to remember that to them you're just a game?"
Nino's heart is beating wildly as frantic thoughts race through his mind. How could Jun be so off the mark? How could he have misunderstood Nino's feelings so utterly? "Jun, no," he tries, reaching for Jun, wincing when Jun only steps away from him. "It wasn't. It wasn't just a job."
"Then why didn't you answer?" Jun asks, his voice quieter now, losing steam. "Why did you say no?"
Those are two very different questions with very different answers. Nino grasps for the easier one, wanting only to make Jun understand. "You asked me to run away with you, Jun. Of course I said no. Do you think I can just leave everything behind at the drop of a hat? Do you think either of us can do that?"
He sees the struggle of emotions on Jun's face. There's anger and hurt, then desperation. Suddenly Jun is crossing the space between them, grasping at Nino's hands, dropping to his knees. "But you can, Kazu, you can, don't you see? I'll -- I'll do everything, I'll buy you an apartment, I'll give you anything you need --"
"You can't own me, Jun." He reaches out, slowly, and runs a hand through Jun's hair -- trying to offer comfort in any small way he can. "I don't do this because I want to be someone's pet. And if you think it hurts now, imagine coming home to me every day and knowing it's only because you're paying me to be there. Neither of us wants that."
In the dim light of this seedy, anonymous hotel room, Jun's eyes are shining. He lowers his face, presses his forehead to their joined hands, and in a voice almost too quiet for Nino to hear, he says, "But I love you."
Those are the words that finally break Nino's heart. Now that Jun has said it, he can't take it back, and the admission of it brings everything into sharp relief yet changes nothing. It doesn't undo the mistakes they've both made, every lapse in judgment that has led them to this point. All Nino can do now is pull his hands from Jun's to tilt his face back up -- all he can do is kneel and press his lips softly to Jun's mouth. "You don't even know me," he whispers. "Not really. Didn't that ever occur to you?"
The question sobers Jun. All at once, his expression hardens, shifting back into something not quite neutral but far less open. He stands, takes three steps back, towards the door. "You're right," he says, more hoarse now than before. He says again, "You're right." He blinks hard, clears his throat. "That's why I needed to see you today. I've spent all these months wondering, and I just... I just need you to tell me truth, okay? Just this once, and then I'll never contact you again. It doesn't matter what it is, I just -- I just need to know."
"I promise," Nino says. He wants so badly to reach for Jun, to pull him away from the door, but he feels pinned in place, feels his heartbeat speeding up.
Jun turns away, just for a moment, and then looks back to Nino, his gaze unwavering. "Was any of it ever real?"
Nino's first instinct is anger, then indignation at the thought that after everything they've been through, Jun could ever think to accuse him of that. But after the indignation comes defeat. In his heart he knows Jun's fear is justified, because the truth is that to Nino, it was a game all along. Even when he started to realize it was something more, he never stopped playing by his own rules. Even when he tried to be honest, he never showed his hand. In the face of all that, how could Jun trust him?
Ever since Jun reappeared after months of silence, all Nino has wanted to do is tell him, You hurt me. You took from me everything I thought I knew about myself. But the more accurate version is that it was Nino who allowed himself to be hurt by giving Jun nothing to work with, nothing to measure by. When every move Nino made was carefully engineered with the intention of remaining opaque, Jun had no way of knowing when he was being sincere, when he was in pain. Lost at sea, not knowing where they stood -- that's how Nino has felt this whole time, but now he realizes that's where he left Jun, too.
Jun has every right to doubt him now, and Nino knows the only way he can ease any of it is to stop, to shed his layers upon layers of disguises and half-truths, to end the game and finally let Jun see inside of him.
Against every instinct, every shred of self-defense screaming at him to run away, he steps forward instead. He reaches for Jun's hand, thankful beyond all belief when Jun takes it.
He doesn't answer Jun's question -- not yet. Instead he says, "There's something I need to show you."
In the car, he programs his address into Jun's phone and lets the GPS fill the awkward silence. He uses the time to ramp himself up, channeling all his nerves into energy, and there are lots of nerves. He lets his thoughts run to the rhythm of his breathing exercises, inhaling and exhaling as quietly as he can with his face turned towards the window, and luckily Jun either doesn't notice or chooses not to comment on it.
They don't speak as they walk through his building's lobby, or as they ride the elevator up to his floor. In the entryway Jun asks, "What are we doing here?", but Nino just points out the guest slippers and heads for the bedroom.
Jun follows him but hovers in the doorway, eying the bed warily. "Kazu, I don't..."
Nino holds up a hand to silence him. "Just shut up and hear me out." He guides Jun to the bed and makes him sit on the edge, and then he steps away to stand in front of the closet, leaning his weight against the door as he tries to explain. "That night, when you asked me what I get out of all this... I couldn't answer because I didn't know how. I used to know, and then you came along and got me all screwed up. That's why I couldn't answer, Jun, do you get it? I was confused too. I didn't know what was going on in my own head. Because of you."
Jun is holding very still, his face pale. He gives a little nod of understanding.
Nino forces himself to keep going. "Once I figured it out, I wanted to tell you everything, but then you disappeared. That fucked me up, by the way, thanks a lot, but the point is that you never gave me a chance to come clean, so you get to hear it now. All of it. Ready?"
Jun says, "Um."
Nino holds up one finger. "Secret number one. I know you're Matsumoto Jun of Matsumoto Enterprises."
It's like all of Jun's features change at once: his face goes red, his eyebrows furrow, his mouth closes into such a tight line that it looks like it might vanish altogether. "How --"
Nino holds up a second finger, cutting him off. "Secret number two. I know the day you came back from Seoul was your birthday."
This time Jun drops his head into his hands. "Oh my god."
"We're not done yet," Nino says.
Jun peeks out through his fingers. "What other horrifying secrets of mine could you have possibly uncovered?"
"Not yours. Next one's mine." He steps aside, motioning to the closed door. "I hope you're prepared, because secret number three must be seen to be believed."
Jun is already on his feet as Nino opens the door. He walks towards it cautiously, as if he's afraid it might be a trap, but as he gets close enough to see what's inside, he glances back at Nino with a startled expression.
Nino says nothing. He knows it's a lot to take in, so he stays quiet and lets Jun absorb it. He watches as Jun walks through the closet with huge eyes, his mouth open just a little. Nino suspects it's not the amount that shocks him so much as the way it's all laid out, clearly with purpose -- with reverence -- each shelf organized just so, the whole space devoted to nothing but the relics of Nino's escapades. The toys, the outfits, the binder filled with business cards and used-up gift certificates, and there, in the corner...
"That wasn't always there," Nino says, now leaning against the doorframe so he can watch Jun. Jun looks up at him, and he points towards the guitar. "It lived by my bed. But then you left, and..." He trails off, unsure of how to encapsulate the nerve-wracking mix of emotions that led to the guitar being moved into the closet, but he figures Jun can fill in the blanks.
The guitar seems to have inspired Jun, because now he's scanning the shelves as if he's looking for something. There, on the shelf filled with rope and harnesses and a dozen pairs of handcuffs: the leather cuffs Jun bought for their first session. Then he goes to the rack of clothes, shifting through the hangers until he finds the suit Nino wore to their dinner. Even the wingtips are there, underneath the rack, set neatly into a lineup of other dress shoes, a pair of heels here and there. Jun crouches to run his fingertips over a pair of sequin-covered pumps. He looks back up at Nino and asks, "Are you into all of this stuff?" He doesn't look repulsed or judging. Just curious.
Nino shrugs. "Some of it. Crossdressing, for instance, doesn't really do anything for me. But it's not about what I like."
"What do you mean?"
This part's easy; Nino's never thought about it more than he has since he met Jun. "I don't have to like something," he says, "to appreciate that someone wanted me to have it."
Jun seems to understand that, or at least accept it, because he stands up and steps back towards the door. They walk out into the bedroom together, Nino moving to stand beside the bed, Jun looking a little shell-shocked as he stands in front of the still-open door. He glances into it one more time, then back to Nino. "Is it some kind of... trophy collection?"
God, it's the same thing Aiba calls it. "It's complicated," Nino says. "But it's also simple. For a long time, this was my answer to your question. The entire answer. Happiness, comfort, love -- this was all of it. I cherished that room. I got off on it. And, in the interest of being completely honest with you, let me be clear: when I say I got off on it, I don't just mean that it brought me satisfaction. I mean that standing in that stupid closet literally gives me a hard-on because somehow my brain is wired to think that wealthy men spending their money on me is the most mind-numbingly sexy thing in the world. That's so fucked up and it scares me so much that I can't even think about it head-on, so I push it to the back of my mind and just keep chasing after it."
Jun takes a step towards him. "Kazu..."
But Nino keeps talking. He can't stop now. "The craziest part is that everything I just told you is still true. My job, this collection, it's all still important to me. But now you've thrown me completely for a loop. You made me realize that love and happiness can look like other things too. You forced me to admit to myself that you're important to me now. And Jun, you have to believe me when I say that I want to hold on to that. I want to see where you and I can go together. That's why I brought you here and showed you this, because -- because I knew I couldn't try to make it work until I fixed all the ways I already fucked up, and the only way to do that is to come clean. So here it is. I'm coming clean. And if you think any of that is unforgivable, if you just want to walk out of here and never speak to me again, I understand. I just... I just needed you to know."
As soon as the last words have left his mouth, Nino feels drained. He's never said any of that to anyone in his life -- he can barely even say it to himself on most days. He's done such a good job of ignoring it that talking about it now feels unreal, like he's standing somewhere outside of his own body, watching himself watch Jun, who hasn't moved an inch, his face caught in some unreadable expression that makes Nino feel even more like he's starting to go crazy.
If Jun is angry, that's fine. If Jun spits in his face and storms out, that's fine, Nino can deal with all of that. It's the not knowing that's making his heartbeat kick up and his throat tighten with the sudden urge to be sick -- it's always the not knowing --
It feels like forever, but finally Jun reacts, blinking into motion. He takes a single step towards Nino. "I don't think I really understand it," he says, slow, like he's choosing his words carefully. "Not... fully. Not yet. But I want to. If it's part of you, Kazu, then I want to know."
It takes a few seconds for the information to process through Nino's frazzled brain. He feels detached, numb but for the rapid beating of his heart and the queasy rolling of his stomach, and then Jun's words catch up to him all at once, washing over him inside and out. Suddenly he is thrust back into his own body and is wholly overwhelmed by what he's heard, by the revelation that Jun would ever accept this part of him.
He stumbles backwards and feels his knees hit the edge of the bed. "O--okay," he stutters, but it comes out wheezy and he realize that he's panting, nearly gasping.
Jun is watching him, his eyes wide and a little scared. "Are you...?"
Nino blinks, and something about it feels... strange. He touches his fingertips to the corner of his eye and feels that it's wet. His eyes snap back up to Jun, who looks as horrified as he feels, and before he can even think about it, he barks out, "Turn around!"
"But --"
"Turn around!"
Jun whips around, and Nino does too, clenching his eyes shut and feeling the red-hot buzzing in his head spill down his cheeks. He scrubs his hands over his face, trying to wipe away every last drop of evidence, but he can't breathe and he can't think. He leans over the bed, grips the sheet so hard his knuckles hurt, tries to count to four.
"Kazu." Jun sounds a touch desperate. "Kazu, there's a huge dildo staring at me, can I please look now?"
Nino doesn't answer, just rasps out, "I think I'm gonna throw up."
His vision is swimming, but then he feels Jun beside him, Jun's warm hands around his shoulders. He vaguely registers Jun saying something about fresh air, and then he's being led out of the room, through the hallway and out onto the balcony. As soon as the door is open he drops onto his hands and knees, foregoing the deck chairs. He feels cold air in his lungs and knows it must mean he's breathing.
Jun kneels beside him, a hand on his back. "Are you okay?"
Nino just keeps breathing. He closes his eyes, holds a hand up so Jun can follow along as he counts on his fingers. Four in, eight out. Four in, eight out.
He goes through it six, maybe seven times, until his heartbeat has finally slowed back down to normal. He shifts around to sit on his ass, his legs splayed out in front of him, and shoos Jun out onto the deck so he can slide the door to the living room closed and lean back against it. Jun sits next to him, leaning forward to see his face. "What just happened?"
"Secret number four," Nino says. He still feels a little lightheaded, a little nauseated. He tips his head back against the door and closes his eyes, reaching blindly into the fake flowerpot a few feet away until he finds his emergency cigarettes, a lighter already tucked inside the pack. He shows it to Jun with a mumble of "Secret number five" and pulls out a cigarette. He lights it, breathes in deep and lets the rush of nicotine drift down over him like a comforting blanket. "That never used to happen, by the way. I was pretty messed up while you were gone."
"You mentioned."
"Secret number six: being in control is -- or was, I dunno -- the most important thing in my life. I always had to know more than anyone else, had to be able to direct the flow of a conversation or a night or a relationship or whatever. So, when you left... and I had no idea what was going on or where you were, or where we stood, or if you would ever come back..." He takes another drag and taps the ash onto the floor. Fuck it, he'll sweep later. "I guess I just didn't know how to deal with it."
Wordlessly, Jun reaches for the pack of cigarettes. He takes one out and lights it off of Nino's, and then he leans back and takes a few drags. Together they watch the smoke drift into the cloudy sky above them.
"I'm sorry," Jun says.
Nino shrugs. "I messed you up too. Let's call it even. Besides, you're here now. That's the important part."
Where his left hand is resting on the floor between their thighs, he feels Jun reach for him. He takes Jun's hand and laces their fingers together, holds on tight.
They sit there smoking, letting the chilly air turn their noses and cheeks red, enjoying the simple pleasure of being in each other's company after so long apart. Nino has felt like this before, even before he realized how deep in he was. He cherishes it now and doesn't plan on letting it go any time soon.
"Are you ready for more secrets?" he asks.
Jun laughs, tired and sincere. "Do I have a choice?"
"Nope. Here's everything I've got." Nino takes a breath, takes a drag. He steadies himself with a breath, and then he lets it all out.
"My full name is Ninomiya Kazunari, but my friends call me Nino. No one calls me Kazu except my clients. And my mom. Now that I'm saying it out loud like that, yeah, I see how it might be a little weird, but that's just how I've always done it. I have a degree in business finance, but I've never used it because I've been having sex with men in exchange for money and gifts since the month I graduated. I didn't plan on doing it for the rest of my life, it just kind of happened that way. I like having sex, a lot, with just about anyone, but something about being paid for it, by wealthy men in particular... that really gets me off, in a way I don't understand at all on good days and am kind of ashamed of on bad days, but obviously I've done a pretty good job of indulging it. I've never been in love with anyone in my life, but my best friend Aiba-chan insists I'm in love with you, and he might be onto something, maybe, a little bit. Honestly I don't know anymore what love even is to me. I used to think it was the inside of that closet, but now I'm not so sure. Maybe that is what love means to me, but only part of it, and what you and I have is a different kind of love, or maybe it's something else entirely -- I haven't really sorted it out. But I know for sure that you're not just a client. I know I want more with you than just that. And I'm willing to give whatever I can in return... even if I don't know what that is yet. I guess we can find out together."
Through the long silence that follows, he keeps staring ahead, unable to bear looking at Jun's face. But he feels Jun's fingers still entwined with his, still holding on.
Then: "That was a lot."
Nino takes a breath, lets it out slowly. "Yeah."
"Well... I think I'll stick to Kazu, since it's what I'm used to, but Nino is pretty cute. And I meant what I said in there. I might not understand it entirely yet, but I do want to know more, and for what it's worth, I don't think it's anything to be ashamed of. And I don't know if I can explain love either, but I'm glad you're willing to let me help you figure it out. And... I look forward to seeing what we can learn about each other."
Nino finally looks at Jun, at his wide-open eyes, always so honest even when he tries to keep himself hidden. Nino can't help but smile, can't stop himself from leaning in to kiss him, cigarette breath and all.
I look forward to seeing what we can learn about each other. He couldn't have said it any better himself.
When Nino opens the front door on Friday night, Jun is leaning rakishly against the doorframe. The sleeves of his dress shirt are rolled up to his elbows, the knot of his tie is loosened, and he's holding his jacket over his shoulder along with a duffel bag. He's been working out more now that negotiations for the hotel expansion are wrapped up, and the result is that his chest and shoulders fill out that shirt even more handsomely than they did before. He's let his hair grow out a bit too, and now a few strands of it are curling over his forehead, just barely falling into his eyes.
The whole effect is quite devastating.
"Sorry," Nino says, "I don't buy things from door-to-door salesmen."
He's already swinging the door closed, but Jun stops it with his foot. He doesn't say a word, just lets himself in, steps out of his shoes, drops his bag and jacket on the floor and crowds Nino up against the wall to kiss him breathless.
"Dinner's on the table," Nino gasps. He has the top two buttons of Jun's shirt undone and is moving on to the third.
"Leave it," Jun says, punctuates it with another kiss. He gets his hands under Nino's ass and hoists him up until Nino's legs wrap around his waist, then carries him to the living room couch.
Yeah, Nino thinks. Dinner can wait.
Things Nino has learned about Jun over the weekends they've shared so far:
He's actually an excellent cook when there's no room service to order from.
Once the novelty of waking up next to Nino wears off, he's a monster to deal with in the morning before he's had his coffee.
He packs his little potted bonsai in the trunk every Friday morning so that he can bring it over with him for the weekend. It lives on Nino's kitchen counter, and he definitely talks to it when he thinks Nino can't hear. Its name is Ban.
He leaves hair in Nino's shower but always swears it wasn't him. ("It has to be yours, Jun, mine's not even that long!")
He spent the first few weekends acting hilariously formal around Nino's apartment, mumbling "Sorry for the intrusion" every time he walked in. Now that he's comfortable here, he struts around like he owns the place, rearranging the bathroom counter to make room for his stuff, cleaning out the fridge with no regard to what Nino swears is still edible, keeping the balcony tidy, keeping the sheets washed, taking over the kitchen so he can bring Nino breakfast in bed every now and again.
He sucks at Mario ("Because I never have time to play! You should have seen me when I was a kid!") and is a terribly sore loser.
He brings sleeping pills just in case but never needs them, nor does he need the TV to help clear his mind, though sometimes he likes to fall asleep on the couch with a flowery romance drama playing quietly, his legs thrown across Nino's lap.
Jun makes breakfast on Saturday, already smelling like coffee when he drags Nino out of bed with the promise of food and caffeine. "Wake up, Kazu~ I made omurice, your favorite."
"That's not my favorite," Nino grumbles.
"Yeah," Jun says, leading him out the door by his shoulders. "But I am."
Well, Nino can't argue with that.
At the table, Jun is browsing on his phone. "I wanna see what they have," he says, turning his phone around so Nino can see what he's looking at: reviews for the bakery they spotted down the street last weekend. "Maybe I'll pick up a nice loaf of bread for dinner."
Their days together are a mix of fucking, eating, and lazing about, a good balance that they've spent the past six months fine-tuning. So once the dishes from breakfast have been washed, they get dressed and take a walk, not daring to hold hands but delighting in bumping shoulders at every opportunity. "Oh sorry, didn't see you there," Jun says after nearly bowling Nino over as they're browsing the pastries at the bakery, a childish grin on his face.
"So clumsy," Nino tsks, and it just makes Jun laugh.
Jun buys his bread, they head back home, and Nino opens the balcony door to let some air in while Jun naps on the couch. He grabs his guitar from the stand beside the TV and sits out on the deck, trying to capture a melody that's been building in the back of his mind since last night. He strums it out in starts and stops, fills it in with some wordless vocalizations once he gets a feel for where the rhythm is taking him. He doesn't notice Jun moving around inside until he's walking out onto the deck, a fresh cup of coffee in one hand, newspaper in the other.
"You know," he says as he sits down, "I had the strangest dream."
Nino glances up at him, still strumming away. "Oh yeah? What was it about?"
"I was Mario and I had to rescue you, but instead of turtles and mushrooms, I was fighting those weird-looking strudels we saw this morning. And then when I finally got to you, you were all tied up and naked..."
"We should try to recreate it. Let's see if the bakery is still open."
Jun laughs, unfolding the paper over the table. "You always know just what to say."
Rule one: No more lies, half-truths, or omissions. Their priorities are honesty, transparency, openness in all things, with the understanding that "I'm not ready to talk about that" is an acceptable answer to any question.
Rule two: Nino still works like he always has, but Jun doesn't really want to hear about the details. That's fair, Nino thinks.
Rule three: Jun still needs to be cautious, still needs to choose carefully where they go out together and needs to have a story on hand in case he's recognized. It saddens Nino that Jun has to sneak around like that -- he wishes the very nature of their relationship weren't yet another addition to the long list of things stressing Jun out at any given moment -- but he understands why it's necessary. As long as Jun continues to be honest with him, he'll continue to be happy.
Rule four: Jun has Nino's weekends, but he isn't allowed to pay for their time together. No fee for their dates, no money in the account. Jun has gotten so used to doting on him that it takes a while before he stops "accidentally" leaving bills tucked into Nino's wallet, as if to make up for his intrusion on Nino's personal space, but Nino reminds him, over and over until it finally sticks. He doesn't want there to be any confusion between what he does for work and what he does with Jun. He doesn't want Jun to ever have to doubt again.
Rule five: Jun can still buy Nino gifts, of course, and he happily does so often, just because he wants to. Accessories for and maintenance of the guitar, clothes he thinks Nino would look good in, a new bed... a yearly subscription to Shonen Jump... None of these things live in the closet. They're special in a different way.
When Sunday morning rolls around, neither of them feels like moving after last night's recreation of Jun's rescuing-the-princess dream, so Jun thumbs through his phone until he finds a place that will deliver sandwiches to them. Nino loses janken, which means it's his job to get out of bed, make the coffee, and pay for the food when the delivery guy shows up.
Jun makes some grumpy noises about crumbs when Nino brings the sandwiches to bed, but he eats his there anyway, moaning happily about how perfect the sauce is.
He gets a work call around noon, so Nino moves into the living room and flips through channels on the TV until he finds some silly variety program. He's there for an hour before Jun joins him, and that's where they stay for the rest of the afternoon, until Jun finally springs into motion around six o'clock. "I totally forgot they're coming," he says, already halfway to the bedroom to fetch his duffel bag.
"So let them come," Nino calls, still watching the TV.
Jun shouts back, his voice approaching shrill, "Will you get in here and make yourself presentable, you sloth!"
Aiba and Ohno show up forty minutes later with a veritable feast of amazing-smelling food from Aiba's parents' restaurant. They spread everything out on the table in the living room and somehow manage to eat it all as they power through a Godzilla marathon.
Later, when the guys have gone home and Jun is cleaning up while Nino lounges on the couch and pats his full stomach, Jun calls from the kitchen, "Hey, I have a question for you."
"Hm?"
Jun pokes his head out of the doorway to say, "It's really serious." Something about the hint of a mischievous smile on his face leaves Nino skeptical.
"Uh-huh."
"How much would it cost for you to put on a Godzilla costume and call me Mothra while I fuck you?"
Nino throws a take-out container at him, and then makes him clean up the spilled noodles just for good measure. But when the clean-up is done and they're in the shower, he pins Jun against the wall and whispers in his ear, "For you, Mothra-san, I'd do it for free."
Jun shoves him face-first into the water spray, cackling the way he does when he's truly tickled. Nino never heard that laugh before they started sharing their weekends, but he hears it a lot these days, and it makes him smile every time -- even now as he's spluttering under the water.
After Jun stops trying to drown him, they go back to soaping up and rinsing off, but that only lasts so long before they inevitably start kissing. It's Jun's last night here, and Nino knows he won't get another chance like this until at least next Friday. So he decides now is as good a time as any to go for what he's been wanting ever since he opened the front door two nights ago.
When they first started this, it had been so long since Nino slept with anyone just to do it that there was a bit of a weird learning curve. After ten-plus years, it was just so ingrained in him to think of sex as a service he provided for someone else -- a service he thoroughly enjoyed providing, of course, but a service nonetheless. It took a while for him to untangle all of that from the things he actually wanted just for himself.
Jun finally had to sit him down one day and tell him, "Sometimes I feel like you're kind of... catering to me. It's nice and all, but I want to know what you like, too."
The first words out of Nino's mouth were "I like you, Jun," and then he realized what he was doing. "Shit, wait, I'm sorry. I meant -- no, that is what I meant, it's just --"
"It's all right," Jun said, reaching for Nino's hand and smiling like he was getting a real kick out of watching Nino stumble through his emotions. "I get it. You've been doing things a certain way for a long time. I just wanted to let you know that if there's anything you want, or anything you don't want, just tell me, okay?"
It took a long time for Nino to puzzle it all out. It started with little things, like reminding himself that he didn't have to exaggerate the sounds he made when Jun made him feel good. Once he got the hang of that, he started experimenting with asking for things too -- like the night he was on his back on the couch, and his legs were around Jun's waist, and it was great, but he thought of something that could make it just a little better.
"Do the thing," he gasped, clutching at Jun's arms. The fact that he was a little sex-stupid was testament to how good it already was.
"What thing?" Jun grunted.
"The leg thing -- do the leg thing --"
Jun stared at him for a few seconds, looking confused as he continued to thrust. Then he figured out what Nino meant, and he shifted them around so Nino's ankle was up by Jun's shoulder and Jun's hand was holding the back of Nino's knee, and the angle was so fucking perfect that when Nino finally got a hand around his dick, he came within just a few strokes.
Yeah. Asking for things turned out to be the right choice.
These days, it comes to him a lot more easily. As they're making out in the shower, all it takes is a little nudge, and then Jun is sinking to his knees, his eyes locked on Nino's the whole way down. He runs his palms up Nino's slippery thighs, gets his warm mouth on Nino's cock, and everything about it is exactly what Nino's been wanting. He works a hand into Jun's hair and then holds on tight when Jun lifts one of Nino's legs up to get his thigh over Jun's shoulder. Jun uses one hand to hold Nino's hips steady, and with the other he works one finger inside, then two, still working Nino over with his mouth like he's been waiting for this just as long as Nino has.
Nino tips his head back against the shower wall and lets his mind be blissfully empty -- no inclination to put on a show, no worry about holding back. He focuses only on Jun, the way Jun makes him feel, the way it feels to have Jun here with him.
He couldn't ask for anything more.
Of course, that feeling doesn't last forever. Jun makes him come and he returns the favor, and then they have to finish up in the shower so that Jun can gather all his things from around the apartment and fold his freshly laundered clothes into his bag. Nino busies himself with watering Ban, putting away the dishes, turning off the lights around the house. He goes out onto the balcony for a smoke, and Jun joins him halfway through, sneaking up from behind to wrap his arms around Nino's waist, his chin perched on Nino's shoulder.
Nino half-heartedly tries to shrug him off. "Your chin is so bony."
Jun isn't swayed. He holds on tighter, presses a sloppy smooch to the side of Nino's face. "I love you too."
Nino says nothing, just settles his free hand over one of Jun's and links their fingers together. He hasn't managed to say it yet, but he suspects Jun has caught on to the other ways he communicates it: the teasing jabs, the wordless songs he plays for Jun on his guitar, the way Jun stirs awake that night and catches Nino's fingers running through his hair.
"Go back to sleep, weirdo," Jun mumbles, half his face pressed into the pillow. Nino leans down to brush his lips against Jun's temple -- another not-so-secret code for what Nino hasn't yet dug up the courage to say in words.
I love you too.
Things Nino has learned about himself:
He's thrilled to spend his weekends with Jun but also cherishes his alone time.
Dealing with a grump in the morning bothers him less than he thought it would, whereas picking someone else's hair off his shower wall bothers him more.
Consistently sharing his bed with someone else bothers him way more than he thought it would, hence the king-sized gift from Jun.
Letting Jun into his life -- his entire life -- was terrifying at first, but Jun is constantly finding new ways to make it worth the initial dread. Every time Jun plays a video game with him even though he knows he'll lose, every time Jun watches Dragon Ball Z with him and they get into a heated debate over which character is cooler, every time Jun surprises him with home-cooked hamburgers for dinner, Nino is thankful for the choices he's made.
Despite his best efforts, he gets genuinely irritated whenever Jun jokingly suggests they open up the closet and find some good toys to use. ("It's my collection, Jun, those things are spe-- dammit, put that down, I don't care if you're the one who bought it for me!")
He knows it's impossible for him to make sure Jun is happy when he's away, but he feels proud and giddy and warm inside at the thought of making Jun happy every time he comes back.
And Jun makes him happy in return, tenfold. The first time they invited Aiba for lunch was perhaps the happiest he's ever been, even if Aiba did embarrass him by shouting "Holy crap, Nino, he is cute," and even if he did have to hide his uncontrollable smile behind his hand and thwack Aiba over the head for a million dirty jokes, and even if he did have to fuck the smug grin right off Jun's face later that night when he wouldn't shut up about it. ("Cute, huh? Just how cute did you tell him I was, Kazu? Like super cute, or ultra cute, or --")
Everything else, he's still figuring out. He knows there's more to unravel -- about himself, about Jun, about what love means for each of them individually, what it means for them together -- and though he's not thrilled about the idea of looking so deep inside himself, sorting through all the baggage he's long been ignoring, he happily anticipates having Jun along for the ride.
He doesn't expect every part of it to go smoothly, and many parts of it don't. But most of them do. That might be the most surprising thing of all.
On Monday Nino wakes up with Jun before the sun has even finished rising. They share a shivery cigarette on the balcony, and then Nino yawns his way through making breakfast while Jun showers and gets dressed. They eat together at the kitchen table, sipping coffee and going over their schedules for the day. Jun has an important conference call at noon, a meeting at two, a presentation at six that he expects will run late; Nino's seeing a new client in the afternoon and then hanging out with Aiba for dinner.
While Nino cleans up, Jun brushes his teeth, knots his tie, fusses with his hair in the mirror. Then he gathers up his things, duffel bag in one hand, Ban the bonsai in the other, ready for another day of work, another week away from Nino.
Perhaps the most important thing Nino has learned is that he can't predict, let alone manipulate, the unforeseeable future. In a year, will he and Jun still be together, or will they have decided that love -- their version of it -- wasn't all they thought it would be? In a few minutes, will he turn around and go back to bed, or will he pull out his guitar and try to refine that melody he's been working on? From his current vantage point, he can't see a way to answer either of those questions or any of the infinite questions in between. The best he can do is make the right choices in the present, be good to the people around him from day to day.
For now, Jun stands in his shoes in the entryway, Nino barefoot above him, the tips of his toes hanging over the edge as he leans down to kiss Jun goodbye. He slips in a little tongue just to put some pep in Jun's stride.
"Take care," he says, smiling against Jun's mouth, and Jun shifts the bonsai into his duffel-bag hand so he has an arm free to pull Nino into another kiss, unwilling to let go just yet.
Finally, reluctantly, they pull away. Jun's hand trails down Nino's arm to grasp at his fingers for just a few more seconds.
He steps back, slipping his hand out of Nino's to open the front door, the link severed but only for now.
"See you on Friday," Jun says.
Nino lets him go -- knows he'll be back -- sends him off with a smile.
"I'm looking forward to it."
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ETA: Loved the Aiba/Nino friendship and bless you for writing Tennen as a side pair!