"Goodbye," you waved your hand: Chapter 1 - part 4

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It was just after 9 p.m. when Keiko contacted him, and Seiichi went to pick Keisuke up at the editorial office. After giving his name to the security guard at the building's entrance, he was let inside without any hassle. He took the elevator to the fifth floor and knocked on the door marked “Editorial Office.”

“Come in,” a voice answered.

The room was smaller than he had expected, crammed with desks. Keiko was sitting casually on top of a cluttered desk, smoking a cigarette.

“Sorry, we're running late,” she said without much concern. “The shoot ran long, and things dragged out from there. But the makeup artist stuck around, so I got her to help out.”

Seiichi scanned the room, but the “finished product” he had come for was nowhere to be seen.

“Where’s Keisuke?”

Keiko pointed to a room labeled “Meeting Room” off to the side. “He’s hiding in there. Got embarrassed.”

Seiichi strode to the door without hesitation. Knowing Keisuke was inside, he didn’t bother to knock. As he opened the door, Keisuke turned, his face meeting Seiichi’s gaze. For a moment, Seiichi was stunned, his hand frozen on the doorknob.

Keisuke’s hair was softly curled in gentle waves, and he wore a red slip dress that could easily be mistaken for lingerie, contrasting sharply against his pale skin. His large, round eyes gave him a youthful, almost girlish look. The lipstick, the same deep red as the dress, was a bold, almost vulgar shade that clashed with the delicate beauty of the rest of his appearance.

If one were to describe Keisuke in that moment, he looked like “a beautiful woman”—a stunning one, even. If any adjectives were added, they would be “breathtakingly” or “exceptionally.” He was the kind of person that, if he were a woman, any man might fantasize about holding at least once.

“I didn’t agree to this,” Keisuke muttered, his rich, deep male voice betraying his stunning feminine appearance.

“You look amazing,” Seiichi said softly.

“Right?” Keiko chimed in, suddenly standing beside him. “Even most girls wouldn’t look this pretty. He’s just got the perfect raw material.”

“Well, now that Seiichi’s seen me, can I take this off?” Keisuke asked, hooking a finger under one of the dress’s straps, but his long fake nails got in the way, only scratching his shoulder.

“Stop that! You’ll ruin the fake nails we worked so hard on,” Keiko said, rushing over to grab his hand.

“I just feel so uncomfortable in this outfit. And the chest part—it’s so tight I can hardly breathe.”

Keiko let out a short sigh. “That’s because you’re wearing a bra. It fits your chest size, so it’s supposed to be snug.”

“Are you... wearing women’s underwear too?” Seiichi asked hesitantly.

Keiko turned around, giving him an exasperated look. “Don’t be an idiot, just the bra.” Seiichi slowly stepped closer to Keisuke and grasped his slender wrist. Keisuke’s deep red lips—dangerously alluring—looked up at him.

“Let’s get out of here,” Seiichi said.

“I don’t want to like this.”

“Why not?”

Keisuke’s arm pulled away slightly, hesitantly.

“It’s weird to walk around dressed like this. People will think I’m a freak.”

“No one will think you’re a man.”

“That’s right. You look amazing, Keisuke-kun. Be confident,” Keiko added.

Keisuke tried to pull his arm away, but Seiichi held on, tugging him gently but firmly. Reluctantly, with a distressed look on his face, Keisuke let himself be led out without further protest. Just before they left the office, Keiko stopped them, draping a silk-like shawl over Keisuke’s shoulders. “For the finishing touch,” she said.

“Where are you two off to?” Keiko asked, a teasing note in her voice.

Seiichi winked at her, giving a mischievous smile. “What do you think? Maybe a date,” he replied. Keiko sighed dramatically, shaking her head.

“You’re so weird. But hey, a promise is a promise,” she said with a smirk.

Keisuke stumbled several times in his heels as they walked down the hallway, almost falling despite the flat surface. Matching his slow, awkward pace, Seiichi walked beside him like a parent guiding a fawn learning to stand. They reached the convertible parked outside the building. With exaggerated courtesy, Seiichi opened the passenger door as if escorting a lady, and Keisuke slid into the seat. With a beautiful woman beside him, Seiichi felt a rush of satisfaction. Cars at red lights and oncoming traffic kept glancing at Keisuke, making Seiichi feel fantastic.

“Where are we going?” Keisuke asked quietly, holding down his windblown wig.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The moment they entered the club “Piffle”, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement. All eyes were unmistakably drawn to the stunning woman who had just appeared. Seiichi usually preferred a quiet spot at the corner of the bar, but tonight, he deliberately chose a table in the center, craving attention. Keisuke, looking uneasy, kept glancing around nervously even after sitting down.

"Quit fidgeting," Seiichi muttered.

Keisuke looked at him with pleading eyes. "What if they realize it’s me? Won't everyone think it's weird?"

"As long as you don't talk, you’ll be fine."

The familiar bartender came over to take their order, staring rudely at Keisuke, but as soon as their eyes met, his face flushed red with embarrassment. Friends began to gather, nudging Seiichi and asking him to introduce "her." He didn't give them a name or an age, simply saying she was a friend, and he made sure no one else spoke to her. It didn’t take long for everyone to understand—this beautiful woman was special to him. The blatant possessiveness eventually made the others back off, though their curious stares never completely disappeared. The sensation of keeping such a beautiful woman to himself, the envy in everyone’s eyes—it was intoxicating.

Just as he’d expected, Mari was there tonight too. She had a habit of showing up at the club on Wednesday nights. Keisuke’s cross-dressing had been orchestrated with this in mind. From the moment they arrived, Mari's gaze had been glued to them. As Seiichi pretended to dote on Keisuke, he was watching Mari carefully. Her stare at Keisuke, now dressed as a woman, was sharp—perhaps even tinged with jealousy.

Mari was a beautiful woman, no doubt, but tonight, Keisuke exuded a rare combination of girlish charm and sensual allure, a mix of innocence and seduction that made him stand out. To highlight this, Seiichi repeatedly ran his fingers through Keisuke's wig, making a show of their closeness.

"You really are beautiful. You look just like a real woman," he whispered.

"It’s just the makeup," Keisuke muttered, looking down like a wilting flower.

"Lift your head. You look amazing, so show it off. No point wasting such a perfect look."

But Keisuke kept shaking his head, refusing to raise his gaze.

"Should we kiss?" Seiichi teased.

Keisuke’s head shot up, his half-parted lips tightening into a firm line of surprise.

"Where...?"

"Here, now," Seiichi replied.

Keisuke whispered, "Not here, I don’t want to." That refusal only made Seiichi want to kiss him more, though he knew a kiss on the lips might scare Keisuke off. Instead, as a compromise, he grabbed Keisuke's hand, the one adorned with beautifully decorated fake nails, and gently pulled it toward him. Like a knight paying homage to his queen, Seiichi pressed his lips to the back of Keisuke's hand. He felt a slight tremble in Keisuke’s fingers.

From across the room, Seiichi noticed Mari standing up abruptly. She quickly left the club, followed by a rather dull-looking man who scrambled after her. In that moment, Seiichi felt victorious.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

It was about ten minutes after Mari had left that he finally exited the bar. Mari had stormed off, clearly upset, a sign that she was aware of him—angry, even. He was convinced now. She was into him. If he acted now, she’d be his. He was sure of it.

“I want to change,” came a quiet voice behind him.

He turned around to see Keisuke standing in the middle of the sidewalk, having played his role as Mari’s decoy flawlessly. Keisuke’s voice was small, his presence almost forgotten as he stood there. Ignoring the comment, he grabbed Keisuke’s hand forcefully, pulling him forward. Keisuke, caught off guard, stumbled, and he caught him, holding him tightly.

“It’s still early. Let’s go for a drive. I’ve got the car today, so I’ll take you wherever you want to go. Where to?”

Keisuke had said he wanted to change, but his request was dismissed as the car headed toward the coastal highway. A park along the ocean, a well-known date spot, was still bustling with couples, even as the clock crept toward 11 PM.

Keisuke remained silent, allowing himself to be pulled along. Mid-June air had grown humid, hinting at the approaching summer. The wind from the sea was warm, carrying the scent of salt and a faint whiff of heavy oil.

The sound of waves grew louder as they neared the shore. A two-tiered sea wall, about a meter high, separated them from the ocean. Keisuke leaned against the wall, gazing out at the sea with a vacant look. Under the dim streetlights, his expression was visible even in the low light. He seemed sad, and without thinking, his hand reached out to touch Keisuke’s hair. Keisuke turned, meeting his gaze, eyes steady and searching. The moment felt intimate, and after a brief hesitation, he brushed his cheek against Keisuke’s, drawn in by the pleasant scent that lingered on him. Gently, he guided Keisuke to sit on the lower ledge of the wall, attempting to part his legs. But Keisuke resisted, keeping his knees firmly pressed together under his red dress.

“Come on, it’s not a big deal to spread your legs. It’s not like we’re gonna do anything,” he said.

He pried Keisuke’s legs apart, inserting himself in the space between. The way the red dress rode up to Keisuke’s knees had a crude, provocative allure.

“This way, no one can see anything,” he said, though Keisuke still wore a look of discomfort.

“People will think I’m being improper,” Keisuke muttered.

“I kinda like it this way. Feels like I’m showing everyone that you’re mine.”

“I’m not a woman,” Keisuke said quietly, almost to himself. His hands, which had been resting on Keisuke’s waist, slid upward, gently moving to the sides. He pressed his thumbs firmly against the soft rise of Keisuke’s chest, feeling a texture startlingly similar to a woman’s breasts under his fingers.

“Cut it out,” Keisuke protested, squirming away.

“What’s the big deal? You won’t feel anything from this, right? It’s just padding.”

“Well, yeah…”

He pressed harder, enjoying Keisuke’s small gasp. Emboldened, his hand snuck under the hem of the dress, sliding up Keisuke’s thigh. Keisuke jerked back, but there was nowhere to go—trapped between the concrete wall and his body. He yanked down the stockings and underwear to Keisuke’s mid-thigh, then carefully grasped the part of Keisuke that betrayed his feminine appearance. All of this happened under the cover of the dress. Keisuke’s face flushed red, his shoulders trembling, his eyes brimming with unshed tears.

“Don’t... I don’t want this…”

His grip tightened, and Keisuke arched back sharply, then clung to him for support.

“Maybe you secretly like the idea of someone watching,” he teased.

“N-No…”

His hand squeezed rhythmically, and soon, Keisuke’s body responded, stiffening and swelling beneath the fabric. It pressed against the dress, rising with the unmistakable sign of arousal.

“Don’t let it out here. You’ll stain your clothes, and you won’t be able to walk home.”

“But… but…”

Keisuke’s knees trembled, and though he knew Keisuke was close to his limit, he didn’t let go. His thumb circled the tip lightly, causing Keisuke to convulse, his toes digging into the air.

“Do you want to finish?” he asked.

Keisuke, tears brimming in his eyes, nodded.

“Then give me a kiss. You kiss me first.”

Keisuke bit his lip, hesitating. His hands, resting on his shoulders, tightened slightly.

“I’m wearing lipstick… it’ll smear,” Keisuke murmured.

He chuckled at that, pressing down on the heated tip with his thumb.

“I’ve never seen a woman refuse to kiss someone because of lipstick.”

Keisuke let out a shallow breath, and perhaps resigned to his fate, leaned in closer. His lips were warm, almost feverish, but even hotter was the slick sensation of his tongue. He must have put on perfume to perfect his appearance, because the rich, floral scent emanating from Keisuke grew stronger.

As promised, Seiichi encased Keisuke’s tip in his palm, gradually easing his grip. Immediately, a warm wetness spread across his hand as the hardness that had so boldly asserted its presence began to soften and lose its strength.

"Did you get it all out?"

Keisuke, his face flushed red, nodded. Seiichi withdrew his soiled hand from inside the dress.

"Now that I think about it, I forgot my handkerchief."

He brought his sticky fingers close to Keisuke's mouth.

"Clean it up."

"What?"

"It came from you, so put it back in. Lick it up."

"No way..."

"Hurry up. Come on."

Seiichi spread his palm, revealing the sticky fingers covered in smudges. Keisuke stared at it for a long moment before closing his eyes and slowly bringing his face closer. His red tongue flicked out, licking his own semen from Seiichi’s hand. The sensation of the tongue against his palm sent a rush of excitement through Seiichi, who then roughly yanked Keisuke’s face upward, biting into his lips as he groped the fake chest under the dress.

Keisuke’s long hair flared out in the wind, billowing wildly. One of his high-heeled shoes slipped off, making a soft clatter as it fell near Seiichi’s feet. Keisuke’s body, attempting to pull away, was met with a stronger pull. Seiichi held him tightly, pressing his face against the fragrant nape of Keisuke’s neck, savoring the sweet scent as much as he wanted.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

Three days after riling Mari up by teasing her with a cross-dressed Keisuke, he confessed to her at the club where she had come alone. He told her he liked her, and after she said yes, they headed straight to a hotel. The mere fact that such a proud woman was spreading her legs beneath him gave him a sense of satisfaction that was beyond 200%.

Mari kept asking him about Keisuke, persistently questioning who "that girl" was. He didn’t want to hurt her pride by telling her it was a man, so he lied, saying it was a friend's girlfriend.

Even after he started dating Mari, he didn’t stop dropping by Keisuke’s apartment for meals and sex. As long as Mari didn’t find out, he had no intention of giving up the comfort of that refuge. However, dating Mari had clearly changed his behavior. His visits to Keisuke’s apartment had gone from nearly every day to less than half of the week. But Keisuke never questioned it. He was always like that—passive about everything, whether it was sex or hanging out, never asking for anything. Despite his outward transformation, Keisuke hadn’t changed inside. He had no friends to hang out with, worked diligently every day, and never left his apartment unless invited or to shop for necessities.

Mari, true to her reputation, was an expensive woman to maintain. Whenever they went out, she would inevitably ask him to buy shoes, bags, or clothes. At first, he indulged her without question, partly out of pride. But as it became more frequent, it started to take a toll. Even though Keisuke cooked for him at night, by the time payday neared, skipping breakfast and lunch became routine, and he often found himself irritable from hunger.

On top of that, Mari was self-centered. She called him at all hours, even in the middle of the night or while he was at work. Once, her call came in the middle of his time with Keisuke—just when he was about to climax. He knew that if he didn’t answer, Mari would be upset, so he reluctantly pulled out of Keisuke, still embarrassingly erect, and fished his phone from his bag.

“Come over, right now.”

He glanced back at Keisuke, but Keisuke wasn’t even looking at him. It was clear what he had to prioritize. With a sigh, he hung up the phone and ran his fingers through the soft hair spread across the pillow.

“My company just called. They need me to check something urgently, so I have to go.”

It was midnight. The excuse was obviously flimsy, but Keisuke didn’t question it. Instead, he looked at him with pity, gently stroking his cheek.

“That sounds tough. Be careful.”

“Sorry for leaving things unfinished.”

“Don’t worry about it.”

Keisuke gave a small smile. It looked sincere, as if he really didn’t mind, and that relieved him.

When he arrived at Mari’s apartment, the reason she had called him was to kill a cockroach. He was so dumbfounded by how trivial it was that he couldn’t even speak. At first, her whims seemed cute, but as the days passed and the requests piled up, they began to grate on him.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

On a scorching Sunday in mid-July, he went on a date with Mari. After watching a popular movie, they wandered through a department store together. Each time Mari visited a new shop, he grew increasingly anxious that she would ask for something. But although she picked up a few things, nothing seemed to catch her fancy, and she didn’t ask him to buy anything.

However, Mari suddenly stopped in front of an accessory shop. Her gaze was fixed on a silver necklace. It wasn’t too expensive, but his wallet was nearly empty. If he bought the necklace, he’d have to choose between dinner or a hotel, and he couldn’t afford to skip either.

“I want this,” Mari said, turning to him with a dazzling smile. For a moment, he almost said yes, but he hardened his heart, thinking of what lay ahead.

“Sorry, I don’t have enough money on me today.”

He pulled her away from the shop as she pouted. That night’s dinner was at a trendy restaurant he’d managed to reserve through a friend’s connections, but Mari didn’t seem the least bit pleased. It was obvious she was still upset about the necklace, but there was nothing he could do now. He tried to stay cheerful and act as if he hadn’t noticed.

After dinner, they headed to the hotel—the main event. When she didn’t pull away from his hand, he felt confident and checked in. As soon as they entered the room, Mari, with a sweet voice, made a request.

"Take your clothes off first," she said, smiling.

“I want to see you naked, Seiichi.”

He smiled back, even though he wanted to see her naked instead. But what did it matter? He was going to undress eventually. Stripping down to nothing, he stood there, completely nude. Mari stifled a giggle, clearly amused.

“I’m not in the mood today, so I’m leaving. Bye.”

At first, he thought she was joking, but then she grabbed her bag and opened the door. Panicking, he grabbed a nearby shirt to cover himself and ran after her. Just before stepping out, Mari turned around and gave him a wicked smile.

“We went to the hotel, but you couldn’t buy the necklace. That’s just how men are, right?”

The door slammed shut. Humiliated, he slumped to the floor. Mari, angry that she didn’t get what she wanted, had dragged him to an expensive hotel only to leave him behind without so much as a thought of sex. There was no greater insult.

He grabbed a pillow and hurled it at the wall. He needed to hit something. Dinner, the movie, the boring window shopping—what was it all for? The answer was obvious: for sex. The thought of staying in the hotel alone was unbearable. He began dressing, but the idea of paying for a room he’d barely used made him sick.

With a thud, he sat down on the bed, pressing his hand to his forehead. His eyes fell on the phone on the side table. Without thinking, he grabbed it and called his cousin, who had just bought the same model of phone.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

After taking a shower, Seiichi opened the door in his bathrobe to find Keisuke standing there, slightly out of breath. It had only been about thirty minutes since he’d called, but Keisuke had already shown up. He wore a stylish branded shirt and jeans—the same brand Seiichi had been strongly encouraging him to wear lately, which Keisuke had adopted for his everyday look.

“You called so suddenly and to a place I didn’t know. I rushed over, but I got a bit lost, so it took a while...” Keisuke began, but before he could finish, Seiichi roughly grabbed his arm and pulled him inside. Keisuke stumbled as he was dragged to the bed, where Seiichi pushed him down. Staring up in surprise, Keisuke was caught off guard as Seiichi pinned him down and kissed him fiercely, almost biting.

“What’s... what’s going on?” Keisuke asked with wet lips, but Seiichi, irritated, growled, “Shut up,” his voice low and forceful enough to make sure Keisuke heard.

“But—”

“I said shut up!” Seiichi snapped, slapping Keisuke’s cheek. Keisuke had only asked what was wrong; it wasn’t a big deal. Yet it was enough to spark a rage in Seiichi. Even though Keisuke went silent after the first slap, Seiichi hit him again and again. Then he tore at Keisuke’s clothes, ripping them off with a forceful tug, exposing his bare waist. Without any gentleness, he thrust himself inside. Keisuke’s pale torso convulsed like a fish, reacting to the intrusion.

“It hurts... it hurts!” Keisuke cried out. The tightness was uncomfortable, even painful for Seiichi, so he began roughly stroking Keisuke’s limp penis to loosen him up. Only when Keisuke finally began to harden did the pain lessen. Taking that as his cue, Seiichi thrust with abandon, driven solely by his own desire.

After finishing from the front, he flipped Keisuke onto his stomach and continued from behind, digging his nails into Keisuke’s small nipples until they bled. He treated Keisuke’s penis and testicles like objects, tugging and pulling them roughly, enjoying how the pain caused the tightness inside to contract. None of it resembled affection or tenderness. Driven by anger, Seiichi bit down on Keisuke’s shoulder repeatedly, each time drawing a pained whimper and a shudder. Yet no matter how roughly he treated him, Keisuke remained hard and came each time. Even though part of Seiichi’s mind recognized how senseless it all was, he couldn’t stop himself from taking Keisuke with violent force.

After the final wave of pleasure, he pulled away from the trembling body beneath him. The sheets were a mess, stained with semen and blood. Keisuke’s limp body lay buried in the ruined bed, unmoving. His previously flawless, pale skin was now marked with fresh scratches, and bruises in the shape of Seiichi’s bites marred his shoulders. A sudden wave of guilt hit Seiichi, too intense to bear. Unable to face the damage he’d done, he fled to the bathroom.

This was bad. Really bad.

Under the hot spray of the shower, he scrubbed away the physical traces of what had happened, trying to come up with an excuse. It wasn’t until that moment that he fully realized Keisuke was another human being, someone who thought and felt. He tried to console himself with the fact that Keisuke had climaxed too, that he had seemed to enjoy it, but that didn’t make what he’d done any more acceptable.

He couldn’t just say, I called you over and used you because I was pissed off after being stood up by a girl. No matter how much Keisuke might like him, even he wouldn’t forgive that.

Still without a convincing excuse, Seiichi left the bathroom. The sound of chatter filled the room—bright and lively. In the dim light, the television was glowing, broadcasting some variety show that punctuated the air with bursts of canned laughter. Keisuke sat on the bed, eyes fixed on the screen, not noticing Seiichi’s presence even as he walked closer. His face was eerily blank, lost in the TV’s flashing colors.

“Is it funny?” Seiichi asked.

Keisuke’s back jerked with a start. He turned around, his face pale as wax.

“I’ll turn it off,” he said quickly, his hands fumbling awkwardly over the bed in search of the remote.

“It’s fine. You’re watching it, right?”

“No, not really...”

“Then why’d you turn it on?”

Keisuke dropped his gaze. He wasn’t being accused, but he went silent anyway. Seiichi could sense that Keisuke was afraid of him, picking it up from the atmosphere. He had expected to be yelled at, but being feared like this threw him off balance. He had no idea how to approach Keisuke anymore. If being rough had failed, then maybe he needed to be gentle. Reaching out with careful fingers, he touched Keisuke’s cheek. At first, Keisuke flinched, but after a moment, as Seiichi’s touch remained soft and light, Keisuke exhaled quietly, relaxing just a bit.

Just as Seiichi’s hand moved from Keisuke’s cheek to his neck, Keisuke’s fingers wrapped gently around his wrist, stopping him.

"You shouldn’t touch me,” Keisuke said softly.

“Why not?” Seiichi asked.

“You just took a shower, right? I’m still dirty...”

That endearing thoughtfulness, even now, was unbearable. Before he realized it, Seiichi was holding him close. Keisuke’s body trembled violently in his arms, but he didn’t resist, simply allowing himself to be embraced. Before he could come up with another clumsy excuse, words of apology slipped naturally from Seiichi’s lips.

“I’m sorry I was so rough,” he said.

“It’s okay.”

Keisuke, who had been passively lying there, began to move, slowly wrapping his arms around Seiichi in return.

“Did it hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

Tears spilled from Keisuke’s eyes—quiet, steady drops that slid down his cheeks, even though his face showed no sign of crying. He looked confused by the tears streaming down, like he didn’t understand why it was happening.

“Is this place dusty or something? My eyes feel... weird,” he said, rubbing them carelessly, prompting Seiichi to panic and grab his hands.

“Hey, you’re wearing contacts, aren’t you? If you rub them like that, you’ll scratch your eyes.”

“I don’t know what’s going on. It’s so strange...” Tears continued to fall, but Keisuke was smiling.

“Everything’s blurry now,” he murmured, his vision clouded.

Unable to hold back any longer, Seiichi kissed Keisuke’s left chest, the spot he had likely hurt the most. Keisuke’s breath hitched as he tried to speak.

“I... I can’t stop it...” He sobbed; his words broken. The TV was still playing, the cheerful sounds providing an odd sense of comfort amid the tension.

“I had a rough day,” Seiichi said, as if it were an excuse—though that’s exactly what it was.

“Everyone has days like that,” Keisuke said gently, without a trace of blame. Those soft words soothed the raw wound Mari had left in Seiichi’s heart. He kissed Keisuke again, pressing his face into the thin chest marred by scratches. It was such a stark contrast to some people—no matter what terrible things he did, Keisuke would just smile and forgive him.

“Have you ever gotten angry?” Seiichi asked, his voice muffled.

Keisuke chuckled, his chest rising and falling slightly as he did. “Do you think there’s someone out there who’s never been angry? Of course I get mad.”

“But you didn’t get angry today.”

Keisuke tilted his head to the side. “Did you want me to?”

“It’s not that, I just...”

Keisuke’s fingers kept stroking Seiichi’s hair.

“Not long ago, a really terrible guest came to the hotel,” Keisuke said, suddenly changing the topic.

“A guest?”

“Yeah. He came back to the hotel completely drunk, then collapsed at the front desk. We had to call an ambulance, and it turned out he had acute alcohol poisoning. But when he woke up, he yelled at us for making a fuss. He was so selfish and loud that I finally lost my temper and yelled back.”

“You yelled at him?” Seiichi asked in surprise.

“Yeah. I told him, ‘Well, if it happens again, we’ll just leave you to die in the lobby.’”

“That’s... intense.”

“The guy stormed out angrily, but I regretted it later. I shouldn’t have said it that way.”

“You really are kind.”

Seiichi’s tongue flicked over one of the small, tender nipples on Keisuke’s chest. Keisuke’s whole body jerked in response.

“It hurts a little...”

Seiichi winced at the sight of the reddened spot, feeling genuinely guilty for having hurt him. “Can I take a shower too?” Keisuke asked hesitantly, still cradling Seiichi’s head against his chest.

Seiichi nodded and pulled away. Then, acting on impulse, he scooped Keisuke’s dirty body into his arms. Startled, Keisuke clung to Seiichi’s neck.

“I’ll bathe you,” Seiichi said.

“No, that’s okay,” Keisuke protested, squirming in Seiichi’s arms.

“Let me do this,” Seiichi insisted. Realizing that it was Seiichi’s way of apologizing for what he’d done, Keisuke finally gave a resigned nod. Seiichi carefully bathed him, not letting Keisuke lift a finger. As he washed him, he kissed him over and over, making sure to gently clean every part of Keisuke’s body, from his stained thighs to his toes. When Keisuke’s arousal became too obvious, Seiichi took responsibility and finished him off with tenderness.

With their clean bodies, they slipped into the bed they hadn’t used earlier, the crisp, cool sheets brushing against their warm skin. Without any particular reason, Seiichi moved closer, fitting himself snugly against Keisuke’s side. It was so much better, he thought, than the roughness from before. Nestled in Keisuke’s gentle arms—arms that never blamed or condemned him—Seiichi felt himself drifting into the familiar depths of sleep, closing his eyes.

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