Secret: Chapter 1 - Part 3

The content warning is in the footnotes⁰.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

Keita was woken by a gentle shaking. He felt extremely tired and rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. The sunlight streaming in through the open window was blinding.

"Still sleepy?" the man asked, crouching down in front of him.

Keita nodded slightly.

"Sorry, but I have to go to work, so I can’t let you sleep any longer."

"It’s okay, I’ll get up," Keita replied. He stood up and slowly walked to the bathroom. The black-and-white movie, the kisses… What happened after we hugged? He vaguely remembered falling asleep right afterward. He was surprised at how thick-skinned he must be to have slept on someone’s lap. As he washed his face, he realized something—he hadn’t had any nightmares last night either.

"Here," the man said as Keita turned around with a wet face.

"I forgot to give you this."

Keita took the towel the man offered and wiped his face before immediately putting on his glasses. The man’s eyes were red, likely from lack of sleep, but his expression was much clearer than the day before. There was no trace of gloominess.

"What is it?" Keita asked when he noticed the man staring at him.

The man blinked and said, "Huh?" as if he hadn’t realized he was staring.

"Never mind," Keita replied, brushing it off. As he tried to slip past the man, he was grabbed by the arm and pulled into a hug. The scent of the man’s chest reminded him of the embrace from the night before.

"Come over again tonight. Please," the man pleaded.

Are we going to have sex this time? Keita wondered as he looked up at the man and met his desperate gaze. It wasn’t the gaze of a grown man.

"…Is the same time okay?"

The man tilted his head.

"Around 11 p.m.?"

The man’s face lit up, and he nodded enthusiastically, almost like a child.

After leaving the apartment, the man walked unusually close to Keita’s side. Something felt off, and just as Keita began to realize what it was, the man grabbed his right hand, surprising him. Walking hand-in-hand with another man felt strange. It was practically an open declaration of being gay. Annoyed by the man’s carelessness, Keita brusquely shook his hand free. The man looked down, appearing hurt, and Keita immediately regretted being so harsh.

"I just don’t like doing that in public," Keita mumbled an awkward apology. The man replied with a simple "Okay," but he kept his head down all the way to the station.

"See you," Keita said, as he headed to buy a ticket and make his way to the ticket gate. The man’s pleading gaze made it hard to turn his back and walk away. Just as Keita started walking, he thought he heard the man say something and turned back.

"Did that… make you not want to see me again?"

It took Keita a moment to realize the man was referring to the hand-holding.

"It’s not a big deal," Keita reassured him.

"Will you come tonight?"

The man asked for confirmation again.

"You’re not lying, right?"

Keita nodded clearly so the man would understand, then hurried through the ticket gate as someone behind him nudged him forward.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

Buying condoms at the convenience store near the station was Keita’s way of expressing his resolve. When he arrived at the man’s apartment, almost exactly on time, he found the area unusually busy and noisy, especially for such a late hour, which made him raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

Wondering if something had happened, he climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. Both the man’s apartment and the neighboring one had their doors wide open, with light spilling out into the hallway. Wet belongings were strewn about in the corridor. When Keita peeked into the man’s apartment, he saw water dripping steadily from the ceiling in the entryway.

The man emerged from the entrance, his jeans rolled up to his knees, carrying a plastic case.

“What happened?” Keita asked.

The man flinched in surprise, dropping the case to the floor. A large number of DVDs spilled out into the entranceway.

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Keita crouched down to help pick them up, noticing water trickling out from a corner of the case.

“When I got back from work, the entire room was flooded,” the man explained, crouching down as well, looking like he was about to cry. “They said it was a broken water pipe.”

Stepping inside, Keita saw that the room was soaked, with everything in disarray. He placed his backpack on top of the pile of wet belongings near the entrance, rolled up his jeans, and took off his shoes.

“I’ll help you,” Keita offered.

“It’s fine…” the man stammered.

“It’ll take too long if you try to move everything by yourself. I’ll help,” Keita insisted, ignoring the man’s hesitant protest and getting to work.

Most of the man’s belongings consisted of DVDs, with only the bare essentials—dishes, a few electronics, clothes, and bedding—besides that. Still, by the time they had moved everything onto a plastic sheet spread out on the grassy area below the apartment, dawn had begun to break.

They could store the items in a vacant room on the first floor while the apartment was being repaired, but they couldn’t move them in while they were still wet. After carrying in the steel racks and cabinets, Keita set to work wiping down the soaked DVDs one by one outside. By the time they had stored everything in the vacant room, it was past 3 p.m. Exhausted, Keita dozed off in the shade of the stairs, only to be woken by the sound of the landlord and the man talking.

“Ten days…” the man murmured.

The elderly landlord bowed his head apologetically. “I’m sorry, but that’s how long it’s going to take. We need to fix the pipes, replace the damaged wallpaper, and do some other repairs. I hate to ask, but could you stay with a friend or someone else during that time?”

“Can’t I sleep in the room where I put my things?” the man asked.

The landlord sighed. “It’s not just your stuff in there, Sugiura-san. Hayakawa-san’s belongings are in there too, so there won’t be any room to move around. I’d appreciate it if you could find somewhere else.”

The man replied, “I understand,” and disappeared from sight. Keita, wondering what he would do, dozed off again until he was gently shaken awake.

“Here, eat this.”

The man handed him a bento box. The smell of food reminded Keita that he hadn’t eaten anything since morning. He sat down in the shade, opened the bento, and started eating. The man sat beside him. As they watched the usual hustle and bustle of cars, housewives, and children going about their day, Keita wiped the sweat from his brow, feeling like a day laborer.

“What are you going to do tonight? Where will you stay?” Keita asked.

The man paused, chopsticks in hand. “I’m going to stay at my cousin Takanori’s apartment until the repairs are done. It’s nearby, only about a five-minute walk.”

Keita was relieved that the man had a place to go. He had assumed, perhaps unfairly, that the man didn’t have many friends, so he had been a bit worried. The man stared intently at Keita.

“Are you going to the university now?” he asked.

“No, there’s no point. Classes are already over.”

The man suddenly grabbed Keita’s right hand, his damp grip surprisingly strong.

“Will you come with me?”

“To your cousin’s place? That might be a bit awkward, don’t you think?” Keita replied.

“Takanori-san won’t mind. We’ve been cleaning and sweating all night. You could take a shower and then…”

The man’s voice trailed off.

“And then…?” It was becoming clear that this man wanted to have sex with him. Despite having prepared himself for this, Keita found it off-putting that the man would bring it up in this situation.

“No, I’m too tired,” Keita said flatly.

The man fidgeted, clenching and unclenching his right hand awkwardly. Even if he seemed sulky, Keita had his own reasons. After all, he had voluntarily helped with the cleanup all night and deserved some gratitude, not a request for sex. The idea of "sex" on top of his exhaustion felt like too much.

“Please come with me,” the man pleaded again.

“I already said no,” Keita insisted.

Frustrated, the man gave his left hand a light shake. “Just stay with me. Be with me. Let me do something for you. I want to say thank you.”

The man was so worked up that his speech became disjointed. Keita told him to calm down, and the man’s shoulders trembled slightly. “Take deep breaths,” Keita advised, and finally, the man’s trembling subsided.

“I… I’ve fallen for you. I want you by my side.”

It was a simple confession, without any embellishment. Cicadas droned overhead as Keita suddenly felt a laugh bubbling up from deep inside.

“You don’t even know anything about me,” he scoffed.

“I do know,” the man replied. “You comforted me. You stayed with me. You carefully wiped down my DVDs. You’re so kind.”

Keita found it ridiculous. How could someone who had killed a man be considered kind? This guy really knew nothing—nothing at all. Keita stared into the man’s pleading eyes with a cold heart. He wondered what kind of reaction the man would have if he knew that Keita had killed someone. Would he still say he loved him?

“Would it bother you if I fell for you?” the man asked, looking up at Keita with a questioning gaze.

With a hint of disdain, Keita let out a small laugh through his nose. “Not really.”

Whether the sarcasm was lost on him or not, the man smiled, simply happy that Keita hadn’t rejected him. Keita watched him, feeling increasingly weary. This guy didn’t see anything of substance. He was shallow. The setting sun warmed the back of Keita’s neck, and he felt a strange sense of detachment. He wondered, What am I even doing here?

◇:*:◆:*:◇

The apartment where the man’s cousin lived was in a secluded, quiet area. It was an 18-story building with a chic exterior, and a security-locked door at the entrance. The cousin, Enomoto Takanori, was not a stranger to Keita; they had met before at the bar where Keita had first encountered the man. Just like in the bar, Enomoto was tall, with a well-defined face and a gentle demeanor. Though both the man and Enomoto were tall, the man seemed much younger and more childlike in comparison.

"I heard about it over the phone. You’ve had a tough time being dragged into all this. Please, come in," Enomoto said. He was dressed simply in a shirt and jeans, which only served to highlight his presence. Following his invitation, Keita walked further into the apartment. It was a three-bedroom apartment with a dark brown leather sofa set in the living room and three framed black-and-white photos evenly spaced on the wall. It was the kind of room that looked like it came straight out of a magazine, devoid of any signs of actual living.

The man sat down on the sofa and beckoned Keita to sit next to him. "Come sit by me." But Keita hesitated, thinking about how he had been sitting on the ground earlier and his clothes were still damp. "I’m kind of dirty," he said, declining politely. The man then called out to Enomoto, who was in the kitchen.

"Takanori-san, can we use the shower?"

"Go ahead," Enomoto replied.

With his cousin’s permission, the man grabbed Keita by the wrist and led him down the hallway.

"This is the bathroom," the man said, showing Keita the way.

Keita thought he could have found it just by being told where it was, but he didn’t say anything and simply entered the bathroom. He quickly rinsed off in the shower and changed into a fresh T-shirt from his backpack. As he stepped back into the hallway, he overheard a conversation. The intimate tone made him pause before entering the living room.

"I didn’t expect you two to actually be together," Enomoto was saying.

The man was seated on the sofa, while Enomoto perched lightly on the armrest, sipping coffee. From Keita’s vantage point, he could only see Enomoto’s profile and the back of the man’s head.

"Why not? I liked him from the start," the man replied.

Enomoto chuckled. "I could tell. The way you looked at him in the bar was so obvious it made me nervous."

"It was fate," the man said.

Enomoto shrugged lightly. "I didn’t think that kid would go for someone like you. He seemed like the difficult type, not like someone who’s used to men or looking for a fling. Even when you went after him, I thought it wouldn’t work out..."

The man began counting on his fingers. "It’s been three days since I went to your bar, and we’ve spent every night together since."

"That’s great. But what about, you know, the other stuff? How’s that going?" Enomoto asked, lowering his voice.

The man shook his head. "We haven’t had sex."

"Not at all? But you’ve spent three nights together. What have you been doing?"

"We tried, but it didn’t work out," the man said with a laugh.

Enomoto leaned in and whispered, "Too tight because he’s not used to it?"

Keita’s face flushed with embarrassment as the man laughed it off. "No, it was just bad timing. I want to, but it’s not a big deal if we don’t. But you know, I like him more today than I did yesterday. And even more than the first day."

The man turned to Enomoto and continued, "He’s so kind. Even when I don’t do anything, he’s kind to me. When I’m upset, he comforts me. When I want him to stay with me, he does. It’s amazing."

The man seemed to struggle with his words when he got excited, his speech becoming choppy. "On the night when I was feeling really down, he let me hold him the whole time. Usually, when I feel like that, I just want to die… but I was so happy. And I realized it was because I wasn’t alone. I was happy."

"Calm down a bit," Enomoto gently advised. "Remember that in a relationship, there’s another person involved. You can’t just push your feelings onto them without considering how they feel."

"It’s too late for that," the man said firmly. "I already like him a lot. It must be fate."

Keita turned and went back to the bathroom, purposely making a loud noise as he closed the door. When he emerged and entered the living room, the two of them were still by the sofa, but they weren’t talking anymore.

"Thanks for letting me use the shower," Keita said, addressing Enomoto, and then sat down across from the man. The man seemed like he wanted to say something, but Enomoto nudged him toward the bathroom.

"Help yourself," Enomoto said as he returned to the living room, handing Keita a cup of coffee. Keita was grateful; he was quite thirsty. 

"The sky’s clouding over. Looks like it might rain," Enomoto commented, glancing out the window. Although the sun had been painfully bright earlier in the day, now the sky was covered in gray clouds, giving the world outside a gloomy appearance. Enomoto remained standing, lighting a cigarette. Even his casual gestures seemed to carry a certain elegance.

"Mitsuru’s a bit strange, isn’t he?" Enomoto said suddenly.

For a moment, Keita didn’t realize who he was talking about. Enomoto must have read the confusion on Keita’s face because he shrugged.

"Sugiura Mitsuru. The guy who brought you here. I thought I introduced him at the bar."

"Oh, right…" Keita replied, recalling the name.

Enomoto chuckled. "At least try to remember his name."

Keita hadn’t felt the need to know his name, and he hadn’t bothered to ask.

"Mitsuru tends to get fixated on things, so if he’s being a bother, I hope you’ll tell him clearly. It’s for his own good."

The sound of rain approaching from a distance grew louder. The phone rang, and Enomoto excused himself, "Sorry," as he stepped into another room to take the call. Left alone, Keita took the opportunity to lie down on the sofa. The dim room, coupled with the sound of rain, made him drowsy, and it wasn’t long before he drifted off.

In the distance, he heard voices arguing. He slowly woke up, but he didn’t have the energy to fully rouse himself.

"You’ve got a shift now? You haven’t slept since yesterday," Enomoto was saying.

"Two of the part-timers suddenly couldn’t make it. They’re really short-handed," Mitsuru replied.

"I get that, but there are other workers, right? Why are they calling you when you’re supposed to be off?"

"Because I can be useful. Oh, I almost forgot. Takanori-san, can you do me a favor? If he wakes up, could you ask for his name and phone number?"

There was a brief silence.

"He didn’t remember your name either. What have you two been doing for three days?"

"We didn’t need names because we were together the whole time," Mitsuru said.

The sound of a door closing. Sugiura Mitsuru had left. Silence fell again, broken only by the intensifying rain. The floor creaked as someone approached. Keita instinctively pretended to be asleep, though there was no real reason to. He half-expected to be woken up, but no one spoke to him. He heard a soft click of the tongue before the footsteps retreated.

For some reason, something about this nagged at him. But before he could figure out what it was, sleep overtook him once again. When Keita woke up, he was surrounded by darkness. There was a distant rumble, and the room briefly lit up before a loud crash of thunder shook the air. Keita sat up on the sofa and walked over to the window. He could hear the intermittent pounding of rain against the glass. The stormy weather resonated with his own turbulent emotions.

The room suddenly brightened as someone switched on the lights, and the fleeting mood that had gripped him quickly faded. Keita turned to see Enomoto standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Did you wake up?" Enomoto asked.

"The thunder was so loud," Keita replied.

Enomoto muttered, "Must've struck somewhere," just as another boom of thunder reverberated through the room. Suddenly, the lights flickered out, leaving them in a merciless darkness, with only the sound of the relentless rain filling the void. Though it only lasted two or three minutes, the pitch-black silence felt unbearably long. The light returned just as abruptly, with the hum of appliances coming back to life all at once.

"Damn, that was some serious thunder," Enomoto grumbled.

Without a word, Keita grabbed his backpack and darted past Enomoto. As he put on his shoes at the entrance, Enomoto called out from behind, "What's going on?"

"I'm leaving," Keita replied.

"Leaving? But look at this rain," Enomoto pointed out.

Keita finished putting on his shoes and grabbed a black umbrella from the stand by the door. "Can I borrow this?" he said over his shoulder before dashing out the door.

He ran through the entrance and onto the sidewalk, then out to the main road, where he flagged down a taxi and got in. During the ride, Keita kept his head down, ignoring the driver’s comment about the intense thunderstorm. Twenty minutes later, he arrived at his apartment—a place he hadn’t returned to in several days. With trembling hands, he fumbled for his keys in his backpack and unlocked the door. As he entered, he was greeted by stale air tinged with a faint smell of decay.

Of course... Keita thought, his knees buckling as he collapsed at the entrance. The power outage caused by the lightning had shut down the freezer, leaving the corpse inside to thaw and begin to rot.

I have to get rid of it. I have to dump it somewhere. In the summer heat, decomposition happens fast. The smell will get worse, and the neighbors will start complaining. Keita staggered to his feet and approached the freezer. When he touched it, the cold metal sent a shiver through his fingers. He could hear the faint hum of the motor. The freezer was still running, still keeping Yanagisawa frozen.

The foul odor turned out to be from some garbage he had forgotten to throw out. He sighed with relief, feeling the tension drain from his body, only to be replaced by a sudden chill down his spine. He told himself it was just the damp clothes clinging to his skin.

Keita moved to the window and pulled back the curtain. Outside, the storm raged on with torrential rain and flashes of lightning. He didn’t know if the power had gone out at the apartment while he was away, but there was always a chance it could happen again. He needed to be prepared.

Keita went around the apartment, turning on all the lights—from the entrance to the bathroom, even the tub. He huddled beneath the window, feeling the stale, humid air pressing down on him.

Before he killed Yanagisawa, he had imagined freezing the body countless times. But he had never thought beyond that. The corpse was nothing but an obstacle now, a source of growing anxiety. I don't need this. I wish it would just disappear. Maybe I should dump it, freezer and all. But where would I even take it? If I’m not careful and it’s found, I’ll be in deep trouble. I’ll get caught, labeled a criminal by the police.

Keita imagined a former classmate, face blurred out, being interviewed on TV. It would probably be someone who wasn’t even that close to him, acting like they knew everything.

"He was always reading books, a quiet guy. Didn’t talk much, kind of gloomy... You never knew what he was thinking."

The imagined scenario made Keita irrationally angry. In the past few days, he had spent less and less time thinking about Yanagisawa, especially at night. That was because he had been with him.

Facing the dead body, surrounded by the bright but stifling room, the sound of rain pounding outside, Keita stared at the freezer, feeling like time had stopped. When he looked at the clock, the hands had barely moved five minutes. Nothing had changed. Not five minutes ago, not five minutes from now. The stifling monotony was driving him insane.

After 3 a.m., the rain began to let up. Around 5 a.m., Keita stood up and opened the window. He held his hand out to the air. It was still damp, but he didn’t feel any raindrops. Once he was sure the rain had stopped, he moved quickly. He closed the window and shut off every appliance in the apartment, except for the freezer. No chance of the circuit breaker tripping now.

Keita took the first train he could and got off at a station near the university, heading into a 24-hour café. He ordered two cups of coffee and took out a paperback book from his backpack, one he had started reading and forgotten about. After spending two hours at the café, he left.

The morning sky was clear, as if the night’s storm had never happened. The only trace of rain was the wet pavement and the puddles in the low spots, but even those seemed like they’d evaporate quickly under the bright sun.

Keita headed straight to the clubroom on campus, skipping his first class. Normally, the paths would be bustling with students rushing to their morning classes, but today the campus was eerily quiet. The lack of people made him feel uneasy as he entered the clubroom. He sat on the sofa, trying to remember what his first class of the day was, and pulled out his planner from his backpack. That’s when it finally hit him.

...It’s almost the end of July. The university had just started summer break today.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

It had been a week since the power outage forced Keita to return to his apartment. For a while after that, he had been staying at a friend’s apartment, but this morning, he was kicked out because the friend was going back to their hometown. They suggested Keita return to his own family home, but he had no intention of doing so. His father had died when Keita was ten, and his mother had raised him alone until she remarried two years ago. Though his stepfather was a good man, Keita felt there was no place for him in the house where his mother and stepfather now lived together.

A little after 10 p.m., Keita stood in front of the apartment building where Sugiura Mitsuru’s cousin lived. He wasn’t entirely without hesitation. He knew that this time, Mitsuru would definitely expect sex. The reason he came anyway was that he had nowhere else to stay and could no longer bear the nightmares that haunted him every night.

Every night, he saw visions that blurred the line between dreams and reality. Even though he had supposedly killed Yanagisawa, in the dreams, Yanagisawa would come back to life. The sleeping pills in the coffee wouldn’t work, and the cord around his neck would be torn off. Yanagisawa, furious, would chase Keita, causing him to wake up multiple times each night. He kept having the same dream, over and over. It made him start to wonder if maybe he hadn’t actually succeeded in killing Yanagisawa. When he was with Mitsuru, the nightmares weren’t as intense. If being with Mitsuru could keep him from having those dreams, then maybe having sex with him was worth it.

Keita remembered that it would take about ten days to repair the water damage in Mitsuru’s apartment. He figured Mitsuru was still staying with his cousin. As he entered the building’s entrance and stood before the security system, Keita realized he didn’t know the passcode. He didn’t know the apartment number or Mitsuru’s phone number either. All he knew was the name "Sugiura Mitsuru." He lingered in front of the security door for a while, unsure of what to do, before stepping back outside.

He sat on a guardrail along the sidewalk in front of the building, waiting for Mitsuru, while second-guessing his decision. If Mitsuru had already returned from his part-time job, the chances of him leaving the apartment again were slim. In that case, it might be better to find another friend who could let him crash for a night or two.

As he gazed absentmindedly at the sidewalk heading toward the main street, someone suddenly grabbed his arm. Keita turned to see Mitsuru standing there, his eyes wide.

“It feels like a dream,” Mitsuru muttered. Despite not being particularly conscious of Mitsuru in a sexual way, facing him like this made Keita feel a slight tension.

“I still have your umbrella, so I thought I should return it,” Keita offered as a weak excuse. But Mitsuru didn’t seem to hear him, grabbing Keita’s arm and pulling him along. Within seconds, Mitsuru had bypassed the building’s security system, and they were in the elevator. As soon as they faced each other, Mitsuru hurriedly repeated, “Your name, your name.”

“What’s your name?” Mitsuru asked.

It wasn’t something Keita needed to be secretive about, so he told him. Mitsuru repeated, “Utsumi Keita, Utsumi Keita,” over and over again, in a way that gave Keita a slight sense of unease. Mitsuru then pulled out a small notebook from the back pocket of his jeans and, in handwriting as bad as a kindergartner’s, wrote down Keita’s name in hiragana.

“I’m forgetful, so I write everything down,” Mitsuru said, scribbling into his notebook. “If I read it over and over, I won’t forget. Oh, can you give me your phone number too?”

Keita thought there was something off about this guy. It felt unsettling. Reluctantly, he gave Mitsuru his number, but not without changing the second-to-last digit. If Mitsuru noticed it was wrong, Keita could just say, “Oops, sorry,” and brush it off.

Once Mitsuru had registered the number, he seemed to finally relax, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Do you know my name? It’s Sugiura Mitsuru. The kanji are for ‘cedar tree’ (杉), ‘bay’ (浦), and ‘fulfillment’ (充). Do you know how to write them? Are there any you don’t understand?”

Keita forced a smile. The more serious Mitsuru seemed, the more Keita felt like he was being mocked. As they approached the apartment door, Mitsuru fumbled with the key card, dropping it and having to redo the simple lock twice. By the time they finally got inside, Keita’s mood had soured completely. The thought of having sex with this man now filled him with dread.

Mitsuru didn’t let go of Keita’s right hand, even as they took off their shoes and walked down the hallway. The insistent grip made Keita feel slightly irritated. He was led to the room at the end of the hallway, and as soon as they entered and the door was closed, Mitsuru pulled Keita into an embrace. The hug felt more suffocating than passionate or sensual. The complete lack of any sexual tension was almost impressive.

Despite the dreadful situation, Keita felt his heart begin to beat faster. The kiss was good. Mitsuru was surprisingly skilled, considering his childish speech and demeanor. When Mitsuru wasn’t talking, the awkwardness and clumsiness that usually surrounded him seemed to fade away.

The room was small, with cardboard boxes piled up haphazardly. Keita was laid down on a futon that had been left spread out on the floor. Mitsuru didn’t bother turning off the light as he pulled off Keita’s T-shirt. He then yanked Keita’s jeans and underwear off in one go, leaving him completely naked. The sudden exposure was jarring.

Mitsuru, still fully dressed, looked down at Keita’s naked body. It wasn’t the fact that Keita was naked that bothered him—it was that Mitsuru hadn’t even taken off a single button, making Keita feel like he was being appraised, like an object.

“Am I the only one getting undressed?” Keita asked.

Mitsuru, who had been staring blankly at Keita, blinked as if suddenly realizing where he was. He reached out and touched Keita’s cheek, causing Keita to flinch. Even though this man wasn’t Yanagisawa, the memories of his past sexual experiences resurfaced, and for a moment, Keita feared he might be hit.

“It feels like a dream,” Mitsuru murmured, leaning in for a soft kiss. His lips trembled, betraying the confidence with which he had stripped Keita.

“I’ve dreamt about you so many times. My chest hurt so much. That’s why being here with you feels like a dream,” Mitsuru whispered as his hand caressed Keita’s side.

“You’re so beautiful. Your face, shoulders, chest, even your navel—everything’s beautiful. You’re even more stunning than I imagined.”

Compliments that were too extravagant felt hollow. To silence Mitsuru’s clumsy words, Keita wrapped his arms around Mitsuru’s neck and pulled him into a kiss. Mitsuru seemed surprised at first, his shoulders tensing, but he quickly reciprocated. The kiss, in stark contrast to Mitsuru’s earlier nervousness, was deep and intense, his tongue exploring Keita’s mouth with deliberate care. When Mitsuru’s tongue brushed against the back of Keita’s teeth, a jolt of unexpected pleasure shot through him.

Despite his clumsy appearance, Mitsuru’s fingers moved with purpose, caressing Keita’s hair and back. This tenderness reminded Keita of his past experiences with Yanagisawa, who had never cared to find what pleased Keita. Yanagisawa’s idea of sex had been rough, often focusing solely on the prostate, as if that was all it took to make someone feel good. He’d whisper, “Feels good, right?” over and over, never realizing how off the mark he was.

The kiss with Mitsuru became slightly shallower. Keita, wanting more, tried to deepen it again, but a finger grazed his nipple, causing him to gasp involuntarily. The finger twisted and pinched, hardening the nipple until the sensation turned from pleasant to mildly painful. After brushing the moisture from Keita’s lips, Mitsuru leaned down and took the hardened nipple into his mouth.

“Ah—”

Keita’s toes curled as Mitsuru sucked gently, his tongue swirling around the sensitive nub before nibbling softly. Mitsuru alternated between Keita’s nipples, teasing each one until Keita was writhing with a pleasure he’d never experienced before.

The sex Keita had known until now had always been mechanical. There were times when they’d barely remove any clothing, simply exposing what was necessary for penetration. Those encounters had always left him feeling hollow, though not devoid of physical pleasure. He had come to vaguely accept that sex between men was just like that.

Just from the kissing and the stimulation of his nipples, Keita felt as if his entire body was melting. So when Mitsuru grasped his half-erect penis tightly, the intense sensation made Keita’s back arch involuntarily, a high-pitched “Ah!” escaping his lips. As Mitsuru’s fingers varied their pressure, Keita’s hips trembled on their own, his breathing growing ragged.

“Does this feel good?” Mitsuru whispered near his ear, causing Keita to open his eyes. The moment he saw himself reflected in Mitsuru’s gaze, his entire body flushed red. The realization that Mitsuru had been staring at his face, twisted in pleasure, was embarrassing enough, but the fact that Mitsuru remained surprisingly calm only deepened the humiliation. When Keita turned his head away, Mitsuru asked, “What’s wrong?” But Keita couldn’t respond. Instead, Mitsuru gave a gentle tug on his penis, like a leash, forcing Keita to acknowledge him.

“Don’t look at my face,” Keita finally said.

“Why not?” Mitsuru asked, continuing to nuzzle against Keita like a puppy.

“Because… it looks weird.”

With a soft laugh, Mitsuru rubbed his nose against Keita’s and replied, “It doesn’t look weird.”

Those large, dark eyes, strangely clear, continued to stare at him.

“Seeing the expression you make when you feel good because of what I’m doing… it makes me really happy.”

As Mitsuru spoke, he applied pressure to the tip of Keita’s penis with his thumb, just as they were kissing. A tingling pleasure shot through Keita’s entire body, and before he realized it, he had already ejaculated. Mitsuru carefully licked his fingers clean of Keita’s semen, then slowly leaned back and took Keita’s still-dripping penis into his mouth.

The obscene sound of sucking echoed in the room, like a cat lapping up water. Keita covered his face with both hands and shut his eyes, regretting that he hadn’t asked Mitsuru to turn off the lights. If it were dark, maybe the shame wouldn’t feel so overwhelming.

The second time he ejaculated came quickly. Already prone to premature ejaculation, Keita couldn’t resist the pleasure Mitsuru’s tongue brought as it played with the sensitive, rounded tip of his penis. Mitsuru swallowed everything Keita released, then kissed him on the cheek.

“Did it feel good?” Mitsuru asked.

Keita nodded honestly. As Mitsuru’s fingers pressed around his anus, Keita’s body twitched.

“Is it okay if I put it in?” Mitsuru asked.

“Probably. I haven’t done it in a while, but… ah!”

Before Keita could finish speaking, Mitsuru’s fingers were already inside. The residual semen made it easier for Keita’s body to accept the intrusion without resistance.

“Ah… no… ah…”

Mitsuru began to move his fingers slowly, swirling them around.

“Does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t hurt, but… no, ah…”

Mitsuru added another finger.

“I don’t like that,” Keita protested as Mitsuru’s two fingers moved skillfully around the sensitive opening, widening it. Despite his protests, Mitsuru continued, and soon Keita felt something much larger and hotter pressing inside.

“Ah… ah…”

The pressure was overwhelming. Mitsuru’s movements paused, and when Keita opened his eyes, Mitsuru was gazing down at him with concern.

“It’s all in. Are you okay?” Mitsuru asked.

“Yeah.”

Though Mitsuru was larger than Yanagisawa, it didn’t hurt as much as Keita had expected. Maybe it was because Mitsuru had entered him so slowly.

“Is it okay if I move?”

Instead of answering, Keita pulled Mitsuru closer and kissed him. As if that was the signal, Mitsuru began moving with an intensity that surprised Keita. The rhythm of being pulled and thrust into was directly connected to the pleasure building inside him. With the combined pressure from within and the stimulation of his front, Keita found himself ejaculating again. He didn’t even have the presence of mind to apologize for finishing on his own, as Mitsuru continued to move inside him. The tremors running through Mitsuru’s body, combined with the hot breaths near Keita’s ear, told him that Mitsuru had also climaxed. But just as Keita began to feel relieved, he realized with a start that Mitsuru’s erection hadn’t subsided.

Mitsuru began moving his hips again, kissing Keita softly as if to muffle any sound. Keita’s breath hitched as he was pulled back into the overwhelming pleasure of the encounter. “Wait, wait,” he murmured, but Mitsuru didn’t stop. The pleasure was so intense that it frightened him, making Keita feel like he might lose control of more than just his semen.

As he was swept away in what felt like a marathon of sex, his mind went blank. In the midst of a pleasure unlike anything he had ever experienced, Keita lost consciousness without realizing it.

◇:*:◆:*:◇

Footnotes

0. Content warning: NSFW.

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