Second Serenade: Chapter 17

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One Night

Sunahara dreamed of being surrounded and crushed by the students in his homeroom class. He woke to the sound of his own groaning.

Peeling the man's head off his chest and pressing it down into the pillow, Sunahara reached for the pack of cigarettes on the bedside table. His eyes hadn't yet adjusted to the darkness, and his fumbling fingers knocked something over with a clatter. He clicked his tongue in irritation and bent to retrieve it, finding the chipped plastic edge of his alarm clock. The hands read five minutes to midnight. He blinked in surprise at how early it still was, muttering to himself that it must be because he'd gone to bed around eight.

The clock ticked quietly in his palm. Just five minutes left in his twenties. Half of his classmates were already married with kids, part of a "family." Sunahara didn't like comparing himself to others, but he couldn't deny a small, nagging sense of being left behind. Perhaps it was because that kind of life felt so distant from his own reality.

It had been six years since he started dating the man sleeping beside him—Aketo, who had once been his high school student. He hadn't expected it to last this long. Sunahara had learned the hard way from his previous relationships that the intoxicating heat of early romance never stayed for long, and that feelings inevitably changed over time.

Though he never said it aloud, a part of him had been quietly counting down to the end, expecting their relationship to fizzle out within a year or two. But here they were, six years later. They had fought bitterly, and there had been more than a few moments when he'd thought about sinking this stubborn, impossible man to the bottom of the sea in a block of concrete. But somehow, they were still together.

Sitting up, Sunahara reached over and drew the curtains aside. In the pale moonlight, his lover's bare body came into view. He had grown taller over the years, shedding the last traces of boyhood for a more masculine frame.

"You're really something."

Sunahara gently traced the sleeping man's cheek. His face was perfectly handsome, a striking contrast to his often prickly personality—a fact Aketo was all too aware of, making him all the more insufferable at times. He could be cruel and occasionally taunting, but he had matured significantly over the years, becoming a bit more patient and kinder in his own way.

Tugging playfully at a lock of Aketo's soft hair, Sunahara's thoughts wandered to last year's birthday. He had a bad habit of forgetting Aketo's birthday, while Aketo, for all his prickliness, was oddly meticulous about such things, always arranging dinner reservations and picking out gifts well in advance.

Last year, Sunahara had assumed Aketo had forgotten his birthday, given that there had been no hint of plans as the date approached. So, on the day itself, he went out drinking with friends, stumbling back to his apartment in the early morning hours, only to find Aketo waiting by the door, arms crossed and glowering.

"You call this decent behavior? Going out on a night like this?" Aketo had snapped the moment he saw him.

"You never said we had plans," Sunahara had shot back, annoyed by Aketo's tone, which only made Aketo's scowl deepen.

"I told you I had exams coming up, and I have never once forgotten your birthday," he had retorted, his voice sharp with indignation.

They hadn't spoken for a week after that. When they finally made up, Aketo had presented him with a slim silver chain necklace as a belated birthday gift. Sunahara wasn't one for jewelry and had initially left it untouched, but when Aketo noticed, he'd sulked again.

"You won't even wear a gift from your lover? Makes me question your commitment," he'd huffed.

So, with a reluctant sigh, Sunahara had started wearing it, eventually growing so used to the cool weight around his neck that he felt strangely bare on the rare occasions he forgot to put it on.

Last year, Aketo had made such a big deal out of his birthday, but this year, he hadn’t even mentioned the word birthday. It was selfish, sure—but somehow, Sunahara found it kind of endearing and let out a quiet chuckle to himself.

...Rrrring... Rrrring... Rrrring...

The alarm clock in Sunahara's hand suddenly blared to life. Startled, he reflexively flung it away, and it landed squarely on Aketo's head, still buzzing.

"Ow! Damn it..."

Groaning, Aketo slowly sat up, clutching his head. He grabbed the still-ringing clock and silenced it with a rough squeeze, the noise cutting off abruptly, leaving the room steeped in silence once more.

Turning back, he blinked sleepily at Sunahara's startled expression, then leaned in and kissed him with a lazy, lopsided grin.

"Happy birthday," he whispered in Sunahara's ear.

With a soft sigh, Sunahara buried his face in Aketo's shoulder.

"You set the alarm for this time, didn't you?"

"Yep."

Aketo's hand moved slowly, deliberately, over Sunahara's back, tracing the familiar contours.

"I wanted to be the first to wish you a happy thirtieth."

After another brief kiss, Aketo reached under the bed and pulled out a small, carefully wrapped package.

"Here, open it."

Urged on by Aketo's expectant gaze, Sunahara peeled back the neat wrapping to reveal a simple silver ring. Aketo took it from his hand and slipped it onto Sunahara's ring finger with a gentle, almost reverent touch.

"I know you're not really into this kind of thing," he said, gazing down at the ring with obvious satisfaction, "but humor me, okay? This is something I want to do."

Then, leaning down, he pressed a kiss to Sunahara's ring-clad finger. The warmth of his lips lingered, spreading a slow, pleasant heat through Sunahara's body.

"...I'm happy..."

The words escaped him in a whisper, so quiet he wasn't sure if Aketo even heard. There was no sign of a reaction, so probably not.

"Aketo."

"What?"

"Want to do it?"

Before Aketo could answer, Sunahara wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. He knew he had no right to complain about anyone else being self-centered—he forgot Aketo's birthday more often than not—but when Aketo showed his affection so openly, it always made Sunahara feel like he was coming apart at the seams.

"You know," Aketo murmured, holding Sunahara close with a smile, "you always want sex when you’re happy. That’s, like, textbook body language."

Being called out like he was some kind of pervert pissed Sunahara off, so he bit Aketo’s neck.

"Ow! I was joking, okay?"

Aketo reached up to stroke his hair, a soft, placating gesture that made Sunahara feel ridiculous for sulking. Without thinking, Sunahara brushed his tongue lightly over the faint teeth marks he'd just left.

"Why the hell do I love you this much... It’s kind of impressive I haven’t gotten tired of you yet, don’t you think?"

Aketo's teasing words made Sunahara’s body go slack, and he slumped against Aketo's shoulder, clinging without shame.

"Well, if you feel that way, why not just leave me?"

For a split second, Aketo's expression turned serious, and he replied with a conviction that left no room for argument.

"Not a chance."

Sunahara briefly wondered what exactly makes him so sure, but the question slipped away the moment Aketo kissed him again.

As long as they could stay together, for as long as it was possible, Sunahara would take it—arrogance, bad attitude, and all. Even if Aketo was a pain in the ass sometimes, with his twisted sense of humor and his stubbornness... none of it mattered.

Tears threatened to spill. Panicking, Sunahara buried his face in Aketo’s chest. He knew how pitiful he looked—completely gone for him—and couldn’t even find the words to say it aloud.

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