Expired First Love: Section 1 - chapter 4

 The content warning is in the footnotes⁰.

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The cash in the envelope eventually increased to 150,000 yen. It seemed Murakami had repaid every yen he had stolen, and now the amount was growing beyond what he had taken. Uno understood that Murakami was trying to make amends in his own way, but it was starting to become a problem. Uno had pretended not to notice that Murakami had been stealing from him, and now it would be awkward to acknowledge that Murakami had not only repaid the money but had added extra.

Murakami carried on as if nothing had happened, just as Uno had done by pretending not to notice the theft.

After some thought, Uno decided to leave only the extra 30,000 yen in the envelope and deposit the 150,000 yen back into the bank, discarding the well-worn bank envelope that now seemed to have served its purpose.

The next day, when Uno returned home from work, he found Murakami standing in the kitchen. Even though it hadn’t rained, Murakami had begun cooking dinner for him since last week. He still went out every day, but he no longer came back filthy and exhausted, so Uno thought Murakami might have quit whatever labor-intensive job he had been doing.

“Welcome home.”

When Uno saw Murakami’s face as he turned around, he let out a surprised “Eh?” It wasn’t just the large bandage on Murakami’s chin that caught his attention—his beard, which had grown unruly and bushy like that of a hermit, had been completely shaved off.

“Don’t stare so much.”

Murakami looked down sheepishly, making him appear so endearing that Uno almost wanted to hug him.

“I hadn’t shaved in a long time, so I guess I overdid it a bit.”

As Murakami rubbed his chin, he had the same face he did back in their university days. Though he had aged appropriately, his hair had grown longer, and his clothes were faded...

“Why don’t you go take a bath first? Dinner’s going to take a bit longer.”

At Murakami’s urging, Uno went to take a shower. Just thinking about Murakami was enough to make his heart race. What should he do? Murakami looked so handsome, too handsome, and it made his chest tighten. He had always been good-looking. Back in university, there were many girls who liked him...

When Uno got out of the bath, he found dinner already set on the table for the two of them. Murakami seemed to have been waiting for him, with everything ready.

“Sorry, I took too long.”

“It’s fine. Tonight, we’re having hamburger steaks—made with tofu, though.”

Recently, Murakami had bought a cookbook. The price tag on the back of the book, from a second-hand bookstore, read 100 yen. Uno had once tried to pay for their meals, but Murakami had refused, saying, “It’s on me.” So, Uno had taken to buying rice and vegetables in bulk about twice a week and stocking the fridge, and Murakami would then cook with them so they wouldn’t go to waste.

The dinner was blissful. It was so fulfilling that Uno felt as if his body might melt from within. Murakami was cooking for him, talking only to him. Their small world felt perfectly complete.

After dinner, Uno approached Murakami, who was washing the dishes.

“Want to eat out tomorrow?”

Murakami turned off the faucet and looked back at him.

“I’m good.”

“I’ll treat you. How about some yakiniku?”

Murakami looked slightly troubled.

“I don’t see any reason why you should treat me.”

Uno hadn’t expected Murakami to refuse, especially since he thought the mention of meat would get an immediate yes. He panicked a little. Maybe he just needed a reason. In that case...

“For your birthday... or something.”

“Hey, my birthday is in March, you know.”

Uno knew that. But... it was a bit of a stretch. He pressed his forehead in embarrassment.

“Well... I just wanted to celebrate, in a way.”

Murakami suddenly fell silent.

“And, well, I also want to eat some meat for the first time in a while...”

Murakami let out a chuckle. When Uno looked up, Murakami had softened his gaze and said, “Alright.”

“Alright, I’ll enjoy some meat on Uno-kun’s treat for the first time in a while.”

Wiping his wet hands, Murakami lightly patted Uno’s head.

They agreed to head out at six. Uno wrapped up his work early and left the office as soon as his shift ended. He was in such a hurry that he would have arrived in plenty of time even without rushing, but he was too excited to slow down. Then he remembered that he was running low on toothpaste, so he stopped by his usual convenience store. As he handed the toothpaste to the cashier, he looked up to hear a familiar voice.

“That’ll be 298 yen.”

When Uno looked up, he saw his favorite guy standing there in a convenience store uniform, stifling a laugh.

“You really didn’t notice at all, did you?”

“M-Murakami! Why are you...?”

“Part-time job. It’s close to home, and I figured you’d drop by eventually.”

Murakami raised his right hand and said, “See you at six,” and Uno gave a small wave as he left the store. He hadn’t expected Murakami to be working at a convenience store. Murakami had always been cheerful and friendly, so he was probably well-suited for customer service. The fact that he had shaved his beard made sense now if he had started working in a service job.

Back at the apartment, Uno quickly changed his clothes. He chose the best outfit he could manage, but since they were going to a yakiniku place... he hesitated. He didn’t want his clothes to get dirty or to pick up any smells. This was their first time eating out together, so maybe... As he was deliberating, Murakami returned, and they ended up heading out in Uno’s usual, rather plain outfit.

The yakiniku restaurant near the station was part of a chain known for its delicious, affordable meat. Though it was still early, there were already quite a few customers inside.

Despite Murakami saying the previous day that he was going to eat a ton of meat, he hesitated when it came time to order. It wasn’t until Uno ordered a lot and started eating enthusiastically that Murakami finally joined in. They ate so much that they felt stuffed, devouring kalbi, harami, loin, and beef tongue, along with beer.

“Meat is the best.”

Uno found it amusing when Murakami mumbled this sentiment, and he couldn’t help but laugh. They started discussing whether the beef tongue was American or New Zealand beef, a trivial debate they often had back in their student days. Just then, a woman’s voice called out, “Hey, Taka-san,” and for a moment, Uno’s heart skipped a beat, thinking it was Hinano. But when he looked more closely, it was a completely different face. Her dense eyelashes and thick eyeliner made her eyes look overly large, similar to how Suma did her makeup. Maybe that was the trend these days. She seemed young, likely a college student.

“Oh, Ichou. You’re here too?”

Murakami replied in a casual tone. The girl called Ichou said, “My friends were like, ‘Let’s be meat lovers today,’ and they insisted on coming here,” speaking in a cutesy, coy voice. Murakami laughed lightly.

“Meat is great. Eat up and get a bit chubby.”

Ichou pouted and turned to Uno.

“Isn’t this guy kind of insensitive?”

Not knowing how to respond, Uno awkwardly said, “I’m not sure,” and Ichou’s attention quickly shifted away. From that one comment, Uno got the sense that she had already dismissed him as someone uninteresting. After exchanging a few more words with Murakami, Ichou went back to her group.

“That girl’s a coworker from my part-time job.”

Murakami explained without being asked.

“Even though I’m older, she’s been there longer, so she’s been showing me the ropes. She’s twenty-one. When I think back to when I was her age, seven years ago, it feels like so much has happened since then.”

A dark stain formed in Uno's heart. Were they really just work colleagues? Even though she was seven years younger than Murakami, that age difference wasn't unusual these days. Besides, it seemed like she was interested in Murakami.

With suspicion brewing, Uno became quieter. After Ichou showed up, the atmosphere between them subtly shifted. The restaurant had become more crowded, and Uno could see a line forming outside. They had almost finished eating all the meat and vegetables.

"Shall we head out soon?" Uno suggested. Murakami also stood up, saying, "Yeah, let's go." After Uno paid the bill and they stepped outside, they saw Ichou and another girl standing in front of Murakami. This must have been the friend Ichou mentioned.

When Ichou noticed Uno, she quickly ran up to him.

"If you have time, how about going to karaoke? There's a cheap place nearby."

Her beaming smile was off-putting. There was no way Uno wanted to go. He didn't like karaoke, and he was terrible at singing.

"Come on!" she said, tugging at his sleeve familiarly. Uno didn't want to go, but what about Murakami? Maybe he wanted to go. As Uno hesitated, Ichou leaned in closer.

"Um... does Taka-san have a girlfriend?"

A chill ran down Uno's spine. So, she was after Murakami. Uno roughly pulled his arm away, causing her fingers to slip from his shirt. Ichou let out a small "Ah" and glared at Uno as if to say, "What’s your problem?"

"Oh, I've got plans after this," Murakami said, suddenly wrapping his arm around Uno's shoulder from behind.

"Sorry, but maybe another time for karaoke," Murakami added with a smile, waving to Ichou as he started walking away with Uno. Once they were out of sight, Murakami's arm naturally dropped away.

"Murakami, those plans...?" Uno asked.

"That was just an excuse. I don’t have money, and I can't be bothered to hang out with them," Murakami said, letting out a sigh and shrugging his shoulders.

"Didn't you actually want to go to karaoke?" Uno cautiously asked. Murakami turned sharply.

"Did you want to go?"

When Uno shook his head vigorously, Murakami smiled with narrowed eyes. "Then we're the same."

"I’d rather have a quiet conversation with you than sing with them," Murakami muttered as he walked ahead. For a brief moment, Uno was overjoyed that Murakami had chosen him over the girl from work. Murakami had chosen to be with him today, but what about in the future? When Murakami had been nearly homeless, no one else had come close to him. But now, with his bright smile, everyone was bound to like him.

What if someone came along who Murakami fell for? Would Uno’s rank in Murakami's heart drop again?

Back in their university days, it had been painful for Uno to watch Murakami with Hinano. Was he about to experience those feelings again? Uno clenched his hands tightly. It didn’t matter if Murakami didn’t fall in love with him. He didn’t need anything more than what they had now. He didn’t want Murakami to find someone special.

But such a one-sided wish was never going to come true. Murakami wasn’t his to keep; he was free to love whoever he wanted.

Uno realized how selfish he had become. They lived together, ate meals together, and talked. Even if they couldn’t be lovers, this was an ideal situation. Even if this was temporary happiness, Uno should have been content with what he had. So why did he feel so anxious, as if his body might start trembling?

Murakami, who was walking a little ahead, turned back.

"By the way, isn’t your birthday around this time of year?"

Uno stopped in his tracks.

"Was I wrong?"

"No, you’re right. It’s coming up soon."

Murakami grinned smugly. "I remember there was a time when your birthday coincided with a camping trip. I recall Hinano saying that the girls' team was going to prepare a cake. So, when is it?"

… Of course, Murakami remembered because of Hinano. Uno, on the other hand, had never once forgotten Murakami's birthday since the first time he heard it.

"The day after tomorrow."

"The day after tomorrow? That’s soon," Murakami said, clapping his hands together.

"Let’s celebrate your birthday. I don’t have much money, so I can’t do anything too fancy, but I feel bad that I got such a luxurious yakiniku for my birthday."

Murakami teased, making light of Uno's somewhat contrived invitation. Uno had wanted to return the 30,000 yen that Murakami had given him by treating him to something nice. Murakami likely knew this.

"Next birthday, I’ll try to make it a little more special," Murakami promised.

Would it really happen? By the time next year rolled around, wouldn’t Murakami have found someone else he liked and forgotten all about his promise to celebrate with Uno?

"I’m looking forward to it... I’ll be expecting something great," Uno said, choosing words he knew would please Murakami, even though he didn’t expect anything at all. He didn’t want to be disappointed, so he tried not to hope. But for now, he wanted to make Murakami happy.

"Leave it to me," Murakami said with a bright smile. Even though it was directed at Uno, he no longer felt like it was meant for him alone.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

On Uno's birthday, he stayed late at work even though he didn’t need to. Even though he knew Murakami was waiting for him, he didn’t want to go home.

As he entered the final year of his twenties, nothing about him had changed. As he swayed on the train, he thought a little about his future.

When he finally arrived home, it was after eight. Just before entering the apartment complex, a raindrop hit his cheek. He was glad he made it back before the rain really started.

The moment Uno opened the door, a popping sound echoed, making him jump and freeze in place. Colorful paper streamers gently rained down on his head.

"Welcome home, Uno Hiroki-kun."

Murakami was sitting in the entryway, holding an empty party popper and smiling.

"You were so late, I was getting tired of waiting. Was work busy?"

"Uh, yeah. A bit..."

"I see. Well, good job."

Murakami reached out and gently patted Uno’s head as he bent down to take off his shoes. The casual kindness made Uno’s chest swell with warmth, and he fought back tears as Murakami walked into the living room.

On the table was a pile of fried chicken and a beautifully arranged salad that looked delicious.

"The last dish is pasta. It’ll take a bit to boil, so why don’t you take a bath first?"

It was unclear who was the homeowner at this point. Following Murakami’s instructions, Uno quickly showered and changed into his loungewear. When he returned to the living room, the steaming pasta was already on the table.

As soon as Uno sat in his usual spot, Murakami handed him a cone-shaped party hat with silver and green stripes, topped with a golden pom-pom.

"What’s this?"

"It’s for the birthday person."

"I’m not a kid. This is more like a punishment."

Despite his complaints, he ended up wearing it. It seemed that doing so satisfied Murakami more than anything else.

Dinner began. The fried chicken had gone cold due to Uno's unnecessary overtime, but it was flavorful and delicious. The freshly made pasta had a tomato sauce mixed with crab meat, and it tasted great.

"How is it?" Murakami asked, peering at Uno. When Uno sincerely replied, "It’s all really delicious," Murakami smiled contentedly.

Even though it was delicious, Uno couldn’t eat much, and quite a bit of the fried chicken was left over. Murakami, as if expecting this, said, "I'll take it in my lunch tomorrow."

Uno had thought the celebration would just be some slightly fancier food, but after the meal, a small cake appeared. On the chocolate frosting, it read, "Happy Birthday, Uno-kun." When Uno imagined what face Murakami must have made when ordering it, he couldn’t help but smile a little.

Murakami placed candles shaped like the numbers two and nine on the cake, lit them with a lighter, and then dimmed the room’s lights. He sang the birthday song with a serious expression, so Uno also seriously blew out the candles.

Murakami told Uno to eat the entire cake by himself, but that was impossible with how full he was. At Uno's insistence, Murakami was assigned to eat half of the cake.

"Oh, I forgot something," Murakami suddenly said, running to the refrigerator and returning with some beer and umeshu (plum wine).

"I meant to have these with the meal, but I forgot."

He handed the umeshu to Uno and opened the beer for himself. Uno drank the sweet plum wine while eating half of the cake. It was rich yet not overly sweet, and it was delicious.

Murakami sipped his beer slowly and talked amusingly about some peculiar customers at the convenience store. He was in a good mood and had been ever since Uno came home.

"You seem to be having more fun than I am, even though it’s my birthday," Uno commented.

"Do I?" Murakami tilted his head and then lowered his eyes, murmuring, "Maybe I am."

"...It makes me really happy to be working properly, earning a salary, and celebrating someone’s birthday together. I know this is normal, but I’d forgotten what it felt like..."

Then, as if suddenly remembering something, Murakami clapped his knees.

"Is there anything you want?"

Uno took off the childish hat he had been wearing.

"I couldn’t do much this year, but I think I’ll be able to manage something by next year. I have some debts to pay off, so I can’t get anything extravagant, but you’ve helped me out so much..."

Next year, next year, next year... Murakami kept talking about the future, which was uncertain. Even though Uno knew he could satisfy Murakami by mentioning some low-cost gift that wouldn’t be a burden, he didn’t want to say anything. He didn’t want to express a desire for something he might never receive. He didn’t want to get his hopes up.

Being together made Uno happy. But it was also equally painful because he knew Murakami would never be his and that someone else might take him away. But that had been clear from the start—from their university days...

"Hey, isn’t there something you want?" Murakami pressed.

Whenever this man said something, Uno couldn’t help but feel joy and hope. And in the end, he was always disappointed. Next year’s birthday would probably be the same. Even if Murakami forgot, it wouldn’t be his fault. It would just be an oversight, nothing more...

Uno wanted to escape these feelings. Yes, he had always wanted to be free from them. He wanted to be released from this unrequited love. If only Murakami weren’t around, he wouldn’t have to suffer so much or feel so bitter.

"I don’t want anything, but I have a request."

"Hmm? What is it?"

Murakami leaned over the table, looking at Uno with gentle eyes. Uno took a small breath, gathering his strength to speak.

"...Quit your convenience store job and leave this place."

Murakami’s cheerful expression froze in an instant.

"Wait, hold on a minute." Murakami pressed his temple. "What... what do you mean?"

He looked at Uno with pleading eyes, waiting for him to take back what he had said. Waiting for him to say, "Just kidding." But Uno didn’t.

Murakami's face crumbled into an expression of confusion, on the verge of tears, before he looked up again, his entire being radiating anger. His fierce glare made Uno feel like he might be killed.

Without a word, Murakami stood up and stormed out of the living room, running down the hallway with forceful steps. The door to the entrance slammed shut with a loud bang, causing the air in the room to tremble.

He... left. Murakami had left. He really... left. He didn’t even have a cell phone. He didn’t have anywhere to stay. ...They might never meet again.

Tears gushed from Uno's eyes. He had done something irreversible. Maybe he had made a mistake. No, he definitely had.

But he didn’t want to be hurt anymore. He didn’t want to be given promises that would never be fulfilled. If only Murakami had stayed filthy and smelly, it would have been better. If he had remained a man that no one loved, Uno could have stayed by his side without fear of losing him.

That’s right, Uno had no obligation to take care of Murakami, who was nearly homeless. He had taken him in out of his own will, so he should have had the freedom to kick him out.

...It was the worst. He was thinking only of himself. Because things weren’t going his way, he had thrown Murakami out. He had chased him away. Uno hugged his knees and rested his forehead against them. His chest ached. It had hurt before Murakami left, and now that he was gone, the pain in his chest didn’t subside. It throbbed like a festering wound, and Uno clutched his left chest and closed his eyes.

Was there a right answer to this? What would have been the best way to handle this situation? Should he have just let Murakami stay, as he was getting comfortable here? Murakami, who had once been like a soulless doll, had begun to smile freely.

But, but, what if someone fell in love with the forward-looking Murakami, and Murakami loved them back? Would Uno have just relived the painful feelings he had in college?

No... No, no. He wanted to end it. He wanted to forget because he knew it was hopeless. But he had misunderstood. Being close to Murakami made him think Murakami only saw him, and he had foolishly believed that this moment could last forever.

The birthday hat sparkled brightly. Uno approached the table. Half of Murakami’s cake was left. The cake was misshapen, eaten from the edges.

Uno took the fork Murakami had used and ate the leftover cake. He couldn’t taste anything. Only tears kept streaming down his face. This was something Murakami had given him. Not a promise for a future that might never happen, but something Murakami had chosen for him, bought for him.

When the cake was gone, nothing was left. Realizing this, a sense of despair grew. He couldn’t move anymore. He wanted to hate Murakami. He loved him, but he wanted to hate him... He wanted to hate him. He wished he could just take the feelings of love he had for Murakami out of his heart and throw them away.

The sound of rain poured down. ...Had Murakami taken an umbrella with him? It would be a pity if he were getting soaked. Stop it. Stop thinking about him. Go back to how things were before Murakami came...

As Uno tried to stand, his eyes fell on the small basket placed beside the sofa. He had bought it to store Murakami's clothes. Uno took out Murakami's laundry and brought it close to his face. Although these were the clothes Murakami had worn when he first arrived, after being washed multiple times, they only smelled of detergent now.

Uno hugged the laundry tightly and curled up into a ball. He knew it was pathetic, but he couldn’t stop himself.

...How long had he been crouching there? The sound of someone pounding on the door made Uno's body jolt. He looked up at the clock. It was already the middle of the night. Who could it be...?

He cautiously approached the entrance. The door shook from the violent pounding outside.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing in the middle of the night?"

It was the voice of the housewife who lived next door.

"Shut up!"

It was Murakami. Uno's body trembled.

"If you don’t stop, I’m calling the police!"

"Go ahead! I’ll kill you!"

Uno panicked and hurriedly opened the door.

"M-Murakami, it's the middle of the night..."

Murakami shoved his way into the entrance, pushing Uno aside. He was drenched from head to toe, and through his wet bangs, his sharp eyes glared at Uno.

Murakami grabbed Uno’s arm and stomped down the hallway without removing his shoes. He pushed Uno into the living room, where Uno collapsed onto the floor, falling on his back. Something wet and heavy was thrown onto his face—it was a bundle of ten-thousand-yen bills.

"This is your fault!"

Murakami shouted.

"I had quit pachinko for good. I hadn't touched it for over a month. I swore I’d never do it again, but because of you, I went back. I was pissed off, but the damn balls just kept coming, and it made me even angrier."

Murakami stomped around in his wet shoes, dirtying the floor and splashing water everywhere.

"I don’t get it! Why the hell did you suddenly tell me to leave? Even when I didn’t bathe and was stealing money from you, you never said anything like that. And now, I’m not even causing you that kind of trouble anymore!"

Murakami raked his wet hair with his hands.

"If something’s bothering you, just say it! Do you want me to split the rent with you? If you want me to pay for utilities, I will. But you can’t just tell me to get out without saying anything!"

Murakami's eyes were red as he shouted.

"I... I have no one left. My parents are dead, Hinano ran away, and my friends... they’re all gone. It’s only natural since I borrowed money and couldn’t pay it back. But even if I repay the money, there’s no guarantee things will go back to the way they were. So... so when you said you were leaving me too, I thought my life was really over!"

Murakami clenched his fists.

"I tried to hold on. I promised myself I wouldn’t touch that last ten thousand yen you gave me. Even if I had to cut off my hands, I wouldn’t use it. I wanted to play pachinko so badly it drove me crazy, but I was sick of that kind of life. I knew I was a failure as a person, but I just wanted to live a normal life!"

Murakami crouched down and grabbed Uno by the collar.

"Did you hate me from the start? Were you just keeping quiet while secretly thinking ‘Get out, get out’ the whole time?"

Murakami’s anger and sadness crashed over Uno like a massive wave. It was terrifying, so terrifying. Unconsciously, Uno covered his ears with both hands. But Murakami, as if demanding that he listen, yanked Uno’s left hand away.

"I thought you were an amazing guy. I thought this must be what God is like. You didn’t say anything, but you were always watching over me... I wasn’t alone. I thought I had you... so..."

Frustrated by Uno's silence, Murakami shouted, "Say something!" right next to his left ear. The sheer force of Murakami's rage made Uno's body tremble uncontrollably.

"Please... don’t shout..."

"Then tell me why!"

Uno was lifted up, and his throat felt constricted. He tried to push Murakami’s arm away, but he couldn’t. The grip only tightened.

Murakami’s face looked like he was about to cry... but Uno felt the same.

"...I want... to hate you..."

"Why do you have to hate me?"

Murakami shook him violently, making his head feel fuzzy. Why couldn’t he make Murakami understand?

"...I... don’t want to love you... any more than I already do."

The hand squeezing his throat suddenly released. Uno collapsed onto the floor, clutching his throat and gasping for air.

Just as he thought he could breathe again, a hand slipped under his chin, lifting his face up. He felt something against his lips. Realizing that Murakami was kissing him, Uno shoved him away with all his strength.

"...What the hell?"

Murakami, who had fallen back onto the floor, irritably pressed a hand to his mouth.

"You said you loved me, so isn’t this what it means?"

"It’s... it’s not like that."

Even though Uno said it wasn’t, Murakami approached him again. Uno stood up, backing away, and fled to the bedroom. He tried to hold the sliding door shut with both hands, but Murakami was stronger. The door was easily forced open. Murakami, still wearing his shoes, entered the bedroom, grabbed Uno's arm, and roughly pushed him onto the bed. The impact was absorbed by the springs. As Uno tried to get up, Murakami’s wet body pressed down on top of him.

"Mura—"

His words were swallowed by Murakami’s lips. Uno didn’t know how to react to the raw sensation of their lips touching. As he hesitated, Murakami’s tongue parted his lips and entered his mouth. When the unfamiliar tongue traced the inside of his mouth, Uno's back twitched involuntarily.

"Mmph... mmm..."

Murakami’s tongue entwined with Uno's, making it hard to breathe. It was frightening. Uno tried to pull away, but Murakami held his head in place, trapping him. After what felt like an eternity of being devoured, Murakami finally pulled away.

"Now it makes sense."

Murakami spoke while hovering over Uno’s lips, looking into his eyes.

"If you really loved me, that would explain why you didn’t abandon me, even when I was at my worst..."

Before Uno could ask him to stop, Murakami once again claimed his mouth. Through the wet, cold clothes, the heat from Murakami's body seeped into Uno’s. The lack of air made his head spin, and just as he was about to lose consciousness, their lips parted again. Uno finally gasped for air, but his chest heaved, and he couldn’t fully inhale.

He saw Murakami straddling him and removing his shirt.

“Ah, damn it.”

When Uno realized that Murakami was about to remove his soaked pants, he knew it was wrong. Murakami shouldn't be doing this with him. There was no way he should be doing this.

Uno tried to turn to the side to escape, but Murakami forcefully flipped him onto his back. Murakami, who had stripped off his clothes, pressed his body against Uno’s and hugged him tightly.

"…You're warm," Murakami murmured as he embraced Uno, as if seeking warmth from his body. Then, he kissed Uno again. Uno noticed the fingers slipping under his sweatshirt, but before he could say "Don't touch me," Murakami's fingers reached his most intimate area.

“Murakami, stop. No…”

Uno tried to push Murakami’s shoulders away, but his strength faltered as Murakami gently grasped him in the genitals.

"It’s my first time touching someone like this... it’s so hot."

Murakami’s fingers began to apply rhythmic pressure, and the straightforward stimulation caused heat to rapidly gather in that area.

"Ah… ah… no… stop…"

It felt good, but Uno didn’t want this to be happening. He really didn’t want this, but his body was responding to the pleasure, growing harder and more swollen with each touch.

"Mmph... fuh... no... no... ah... fuh..."

Murakami pressed and rubbed against the sensitive tip, causing a sharp, high-pitched cry to escape from Uno's lips.

"Your voice... it’s getting to me. It makes me want you even more."

As Murakami whispered this while licking Uno’s ear, the deep tone sent shivers down Uno’s spine. Murakami's hand movements suddenly became more intense, and the sensation was too overwhelming for Uno to handle.

“Ah, ah… ah… ahhh…”

This kind of pleasure was unknown to him. The stimulation was far stronger than anything he had ever experienced on his own, making his lower body twist in response.

“I’m scared… scared, scared, scared…”

Tears spilled from Uno's eyes and trailed down his cheeks, which Murakami licked away like a dog.

"What are you scared of? I’m just making you feel good."

With those words, Murakami gripped Uno’s member firmly. In that instant, an electric surge of pleasure shot through Uno's body. He shuddered violently, and a moment later, he felt his tip erupting in pulses.

Even after it was over, a tingling sensation spread throughout his entire body, down to his fingertips. He was left weak and powerless.

In that state, Murakami began to strip him of his clothes. Soon, Uno was completely naked, his male body exposed to Murakami’s gaze.

“Don’t look… please…”

Uno pleaded, but Murakami didn’t avert his eyes. The lingering effects of the stimulation still rippled through Uno’s body as he turned on his side. Just as he tried to curl up and hug his knees, Murakami flipped him onto his stomach.

Murakami grabbed Uno’s buttocks and spread them apart. The realization that Murakami was looking at him there made all the blood drain from Uno's face.

“No! Don’t look!”

“Isn’t this where guys do it with each other?”

“We don’t have to… We don’t have to…”

He didn’t want this to happen. He really didn’t want this. He had imagined being intimate with Murakami many times, but in those fantasies, he had a woman’s body…

“They don’t get wet down here, right?”

Murakami applied a slippery substance to a place Uno had never touched himself, then inserted something thin and firm. Uno felt himself gradually open up.

“Hngh…”

“Does it hurt?”

Uno shook his head. …It didn’t hurt. But it was frightening. The feeling of something inside him that wasn’t a part of him.

“I’m scared…”

The foreign object slowly pushed deeper, moving around inside him.

“Murakami, no, no… stop, don’t move…”

Even as Uno pleaded, shaking his hips, Murakami didn’t stop. When Uno tried to crawl away, Murakami followed him. Just as Uno thought it was over, the number of intruding fingers increased. Uno clenched his hands in front of his face and began to sob.

His hips were forcefully lifted. Something even hotter than before was pressed against that already heated spot. In a four-legged position with only his hips raised, Uno twisted his head around with difficulty.

"Please don’t put it in..."

Through his tears, Uno couldn’t see Murakami’s face clearly.

"I'm begging you... don't..."

Ignoring Uno's pleas, something hard started to push its way inside.

“No, no…”

The large, hot object slowly entered him. The pressure felt like it was pushing up into his stomach, causing his thighs to tremble uncontrollably.

Tears flowed freely as Uno cried, and Murakami leaned over him. The angle of penetration shifted slightly, and Uno let out a small, anguished moan.

“You’re so warm inside…”

Murakami whispered in a wet voice close to Uno's ear. As he began to move slowly in and out, a mixture of sharp pain and tingling pleasure surged up from within.

“Are you enjoying this?” Murakami asked. Uno's member was hard, trembling with frustration, and dripping with desire.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Uno was the first to wake up. His entire body felt sluggish, and even moving his fingers seemed like a chore.

Feeling slightly cold, Uno reached out to touch something warm in front of him. As he lay there, memories of the previous day slowly started to resurface. He hurriedly sat up, wincing as a dull pain shot through his hips.

Before him was Murakami’s beautiful back. The details of how this man had violated him the previous day came flooding back. It was... awful. Terrible, terrible, terrible. Tears welled up in Uno’s eyes as he bit his lip. Terrible, terrible, terrible...

Tears burst onto Murakami’s shoulder. "Mmm," he murmured, his broad back twisting as he slowly turned to face Uno, gently stroking his tear-streaked shoulder.

Murakami looked up at Uno intently.

"Why are you crying?"

Uno let out a heavy sob.

“…I told you I didn’t want this.”

His voice trembled.

“I told you over and over that I didn’t want this!”

Murakami sat up on the bed, crossing his legs and facing Uno.

“I told you over and over and over that I didn’t want this!”

“But you were feeling it, weren’t you?” Murakami’s fingers softly touched the now still part of Uno’s groin. Uno flinched and backed away, pressing himself against the wall and curling up.

“Even so, I said I didn’t want it!”

Uno held his head and cried.

“Awful, it’s just awful…”

Awful, awful, awful.

“Now that you’ve done this… I’ll never be able to forget you.”

For seven years, just watching him had been impossible to forget. And now, after being physically connected, there was no going back.

“I’ll never be able to forget this for the rest of my life…”

As Uno sobbed, Murakami wrapped his arms around him, holding him tightly.

“Then you don’t have to forget.”

Uno trembled in Murakami’s arms.

“I don’t want you to forget me.”

His trembling didn’t stop easily. But as their body heat merged, Uno gradually began to calm down. He started to consider the meaning of being held like this.

Hesitantly, Uno reached out to embrace the back of the man who had been his first love.

Footnotes

0. Content warning: NFSW, dub-con.

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