B.L.T: Chapter 13

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The lights had been dimmed to half, the air conditioning switched off. As he mopped the aisles of the bookstore, a voice asked, “Do you actually get paid for this too?”

“It’s already past closing time, isn’t it? Even if you stay and work, it’s not like your pay goes up. Let’s just do it halfway and go home.”

Leaning both elbows on the counter at the register, Akane Shimonuma called out to Masato Kitazawa, who refused to stop cleaning.

“It’s not about whether we’re past time or not. Cleaning up before going home is just common sense. Besides, you saw how busy it was today with one of the employees out. If you’re not going to help, then just go home already.”

He shot the words out a little brusquely and moved to the aisle by the paperback shelves. It was Kitazawa who had introduced Shimonuma, his junior from university, to this bookstore job. But contrary to his expectations, her work attitude was a real problem. She was efficient enough, quick with tasks, but she complained constantly and had a bad habit of slacking off.

At the group mixer where they first drank together, he had thought she was a considerate girl. She read the atmosphere quickly, lifted the mood well, he had been so sure she would make a good worker that he had confidently recommended her to the manager, Yusuke Omiya. Now, he could only click his tongue inwardly. She might do for a stopgap part-timer, but if they wanted her to stick around, she was going to be trouble. He could already sense that Omiya was growing weary of her, though out of courtesy to Kitazawa, he didn’t complain.

But work was work, even if she had been introduced by his boyfriend. This bookstore was Omiya’s domain, and if she wasn’t pulling her weight, he shouldn’t hesitate to let her go. Still, knowing Omiya’s gentle, or rather indecisive nature, Kitazawa doubted he’d be the one to say it. Which meant it would have to be him: “Go ahead and fire her.” He resolved to give Omiya the push.

After finishing one round with the mop, Kitazawa returned to the counter and saw that Shimonuma was already gone. He put away the cleaning tools, checked that the door to the store floor was locked, and switched off the lights.

Sighing, he headed back to the staff locker room. When he opened the door, the room was brightly lit, and there was Shimonuma, perched on a folding chair by the wall.

“Senpai, let’s go home together,” she said, her voice lifting into a sweet, coaxing tone. At a mixer, when they barely knew each other, he might have thought it cute. But now, the cloying sweetness just grated on him.

“Sorry. I’ve got business with the manager.”

She looked up at him through her lashes, lips pouting, her legs swinging petulantly.

“Then I’ll wait.”

“No, really. Sorry. It’s complicated, and it’ll take time.”

“Then it’s fine if I just wait on my own, right?”

She wouldn’t let it go. She’d always been especially attached to him among the juniors, and he’d thought of her as a decent kid. But now he could feel the situation turning into a nuisance.

Before recommending her, he had overheard a classmate say, “Shimonuma’s got a boyfriend, you know.” Kitazawa had figured that if she was already seeing someone, there’d be no chance of her developing feelings for Omiya. Never had he expected her attention to turn toward him instead.

“Listen. I’m already seeing someone,” he said flatly.

Her face went stiff in an instant.

“If I’m misunderstanding, then I’m sorry. But that’s how it is.”

By his locker, he pulled off the apron with the store’s name printed on it and retrieved his bag. Behind him, he heard the door close. Finally, he thought, a little exasperated, and left the locker room himself.

One by one, he pretended to check lights in the hall and storeroom, making sure no one remained. At last, he made his way toward the office.

He opened the door quietly. Inside, the room was lit but silent. The manager’s desk was empty; the man who should have been there was nowhere in sight. Maybe he’d gone to the bathroom… Kitazawa stepped in, glancing around, and then he found him.

Omiya, the manager of Kouchido Bookstore, and Kitazawa’s boyfriend, was stretched out on the visitor’s sofa, fast asleep. At his feet, return slips lay scattered in a mess, as if he’d collapsed in the middle of checking them for tomorrow.

Careful not to make a sound, Kitazawa approached. He’d thought Omiya looked tired even during the day, but he never asked about it. He knew the older man would only brush him off with, “It’s nothing.” So he had stayed quiet.

Crouching beside the sofa, he gazed at his sleeping face. It had been a long time since he’d seen him so defenseless. In the hurried encounters they had in the office or in the car, there was never time to simply look at him.

 

They only had brief moments together after Omiya’s work ended. That wasn’t enough. It was why Kitazawa had taken back the bookstore part-time job he’d once quit, just to be near him, even if they couldn’t talk. It had been about six months since he’d resigned himself to this kind of relationship.

There was a reason they couldn’t meet freely. Omiya hadn’t fully broken things off with his previous lover when he reached for Kitazawa. When Kitazawa learned the truth, he had truly meant to cut him off, I’ll walk away from a man like this. He had planned to leave. But he hadn’t. Because he still wanted to stay by his side.

Last summer, when he went back to his hometown in Miyazaki, he thought he’d forget everything. In a place without Omiya’s presence, maybe he could. But even there, he kept appearing in Kitazawa’s dreams. Over and over, before the memories even had a chance to fade.

“You’re the only one I really love.” In the dream, Omiya whispered to him. Relieved, Kitazawa asked, “Really?” And again and again, “Really? Really?”, until it was absurd. “You’ll never say you don’t want to see me again? You won’t say we should break up?” He clung on, making sure, confirming it to the point of desperation. He could never say the words: “I don’t care about you. Go away.”

Because he loved him. Because Omiya said he loved him too. Kitazawa had agreed to wait until he fully cut ties with the former boyfriend, but only for one year. From the end of last summer, through winter, and now April was nearly over. Half of that promised time was already gone.

He wanted more freedom to be with him. Not just frantic sex, but to lie together in bed, to spend the night until morning.

Leaning close, he brushed the tip of his nose against Omiya’s. When Omiya stirred, eyes half-opening, Kitazawa kissed him. At first, the lips were startled, but then, as if realizing the situation, they slowly responded, and finally drew him in with a deep, consuming hunger.

Pulled closer, Kitazawa climbed on top of him. Large hands tangled in his hair, arms tightened so fiercely around him it felt like his breath might stop.

Heat spread through his groin. The grip of those fingers seemed to want him too. He half expected it to lead into sex like always. But Omiya went no further. Kitazawa wanted to, but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. The man was tired, with work still unfinished. And so, for the first time since being with Omiya, Kitazawa came to know this helpless, frustrating sensation, of holding back, of being the one to endure.

“Your eyes are really red.”

Still sitting on his lap, Kitazawa touched the corner of them. Omiya’s eyes narrowed, curving into a smile.

“Because I was sleeping.”

Those laugh lines at the edge of his eyes, softening his whole expression, Kitazawa loved them unbearably.

“You’re tired, aren’t you? But you had a day off yesterday, didn’t you? What were you doing?”

“Various things.”

“What do you mean, various things?”

No answer. Only a vague smile that dodged the question. He was honestly worried, yet brushed off again. Irritated, Kitazawa slipped off him. Something crunched underfoot. Return slips, stepped on and wrinkled. He bent down and began gathering them, one by one.

“Do all of these need to be checked?”

“I’ll do it. You should rest. You cleaned the store too, didn’t you?”

“It’ll go faster if we do it together.”

Ignoring the protest, Kitazawa quickly started the check. Then turned back.

“Hey, how much of this is already done?”

◇:-:◆:-:◇

They left the bookstore a little after eleven. Outside, the night was chilly, and with only a T-shirt under a thin shirt, Kitazawa shivered. On a moonless night, the streetlamps were the only thing keeping the streets from pitch black.

His apartment was only a few minutes’ walk from the bookstore, but Omiya had said, “I’ll take you home.” Knowing it would only trouble him more, Kitazawa tried to refuse, “I can get back by myself.” But Omiya had given him a troubled look and said, “I really want to see you home…” That had struck him as oddly endearing, so he relented with a simple, “Okay.”

Something felt strange as soon as they got in the car. Omiya drove right past the turn for Kitazawa’s apartment. At first he thought it was a mistake, but the steady, unbothered expression on his face made it clear, this was on purpose.

“Where are we going?”

When he asked, Omiya only smiled faintly and gave no reply. He looked too pleased, too amused, and Kitazawa didn’t feel like pressing him. Maybe he was taking him to a hotel. That would be fine. Kitazawa wanted him too.

After ten minutes, they entered a residential district. The car pulled into the corner of a parking lot beside a six-story apartment building.

“What’s this place?”

Still saying nothing, but clearly delighted, Omiya took his hand and led him inside. They rode the elevator up, got off at the fifth floor, and stopped at room 507. From his pocket, Omiya produced a key.

The lights snapped on with a click, revealing a small one-bedroom apartment: a narrow kitchen leading to about eight tatami’s worth of flooring.

Cardboard boxes lined the wall in haphazard stacks, giving the place a stark, unfinished air. All the more for the slightly oversized bed to stand out.

“I just moved in yesterday. It’s messy, but… come in.”

He gestured him farther inside.

“What is this place?”

“My apartment,” Omiya said, with unmistakable pride.

Kitazawa still hadn’t caught up with what was happening when Omiya pulled him close and wrapped him tight.

“Sorry for making you wait so long.”

The words brushed against his ear.

“Sorry for making you hold back.”

Just hearing that made his chest tighten, tears threatening to spill.

“Did you break up?”

He asked. Omiya nodded.

“Really?”

A firm nod.

“Really?”

Even with those nods, Kitazawa kept asking again and again, fingertips brushing his cheek.

“You’re all mine now? Every part of you?”

“Yeah.”

“Your face, your hands, your legs, down to your nails, your hair… and… and…”

His words caught, throat tight. He was lifted into an upward gaze, kissed softly, as if to soothe him. That kiss quickly deepened, rough with hunger, laced with the scent of sex.

When he was pulled toward the bed, Kitazawa was too shaken by excitement to do anything. He knew some ways to please him, but in that moment he could do nothing, just cling to the broad back before him, as if it were their very first time all over again.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

The warmth of his back made Kitazawa feel safe, like he was being protected. Even though their legs were tangled to the point of discomfort, he liked it that way. He pulled the arm circling his stomach up near his face and rubbed against it again and again, like a cat.

A small laugh came from behind, and his hair was tousled roughly.

“What are you doing?”

As a joke, Kitazawa said, “Marking you.” That must have hit the right spot, because Omiya laughed so hard the bed creaked.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked. Kitazawa wanted to see his face while talking, so he shifted to turn toward him.

“Because you keep doing all those indecent things.”

“My fault, huh?” Omiya laughed again. It was four in the morning, not long until the sky would start turning blue.

“You haven’t slept either, right? You’ve got work at nine-thirty tomorrow. You should…”

Like a child, Omiya pressed his face into Kitazawa’s chest. For such a big guy, the way he clung was ridiculously cute. Kitazawa wrapped his arms around his head, holding him close.

The sudden pull at his chest made Kitazawa shiver. He’d felt that same thing countless times already, and yet one touch, one caress, was enough to unravel him again.

“D, don’t start that stuff again…”

He tried to push Omiya’s head away, but it didn’t work, and his body, already sensitive, betrayed him, responding instantly. Again, he was pushed over the edge by Omiya’s palm.

With a dazed expression, Omiya licked his soiled hand. Once, Kitazawa had tried tasting it himself, and it had been raw and bitter. Since then he’d never bothered. But seeing Omiya like that made him wonder, could it really be that good? He grabbed the dirty hand and pulled it toward himself.

He gave it a tentative lick. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t good.

“Ugh.”

Sticking out his tongue, grimacing. Omiya burst out laughing.

“It’s your own, you know.”

“Even if it’s mine, gross is still gross.”

But despite what Kitazawa said, Omiya smeared the rest against his lips. He tried to turn away, but Omiya sealed it with a kiss. The taste was awful. The smell, though, just a little exciting. Their kiss deepened, long enough to drown both taste and scent.

“Hey, seriously, are you okay not sleeping?”

It was fun, playing around like this, but Kitazawa worried. He was already planning to skip his morning lecture, but Omiya had work. Staying up all night had to be rough.

“I want to sleep,” Omiya said.

“Then just sleep. Don’t bother with me.”

“I’m too wound up. It’s been so long since we’ve been together like this.”

Kitazawa laughed, running his hand through his hair.

“Is this head of yours filled with nothing but dirty thoughts?”

“Not just that,” Omiya answered, though he didn’t deny it either. His fingers kept moving over Kitazawa’s body, pausing only to kiss him again and again. The pleasure slowly blurred into drowsiness. Still, Kitazawa felt guilty about dozing off while Omiya stayed awake, so he talked a little.

“My junior at the part-time job…”

Omiya tilted his head.

“You mean Shimonuma?”

“You can fire her if you want. Don’t hold back just because I introduced her.”

“Why?”

“She’s not serious. No motivation. And isn’t she the kind you hate?”

Omiya’s wry smile said he’d hit the mark.

“Like or dislike aside… the slacking is a problem, yeah, but not enough for me to want her gone.”

Kitazawa looked steadily at him.

“What?”

“I think Shimonuma likes me.”

Omiya’s expression changed instantly.

“She’s not my type, so I’m not interested,” Kitazawa added.

Still, the strength of Omiya’s arms around him betrayed a flicker of unease.

“The one I love is you.”

The words slipped out, meant to reassure, but they only left Kitazawa blushing at himself.

“Say that again.”

“Say what?” He played dumb.

“That you love me…”

“No way.”

He refused, was begged, tangled up in it all, until morning light seeped in through the window, and at last the two of them fell into a shallow sleep.

◇:-:◆:-:◇

It was the faint sounds that woke him. His eyes ached with sleep, and his body felt heavy. The clock showed a little past nine. Omiya was getting dressed with his back turned to Kitazawa.

He tightened his tie, then turned, finally noticing Kitazawa staring drowsily at him.

“Did I wake you? Sorry.”

“…Not really.”

Kitazawa sluggishly pushed himself up, though the pull of the sheets was still stronger. He hugged the pillow loosely against his chest.

“You can keep sleeping. I’ve got work.”

“Mm.”

“If you head out of this building and turn left, the Tatsugawa Line station’s right there.”

“Got it. I’ll head back whenever.”

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Omiya reached out and ruffled Kitazawa’s hair, as if reluctant to leave him buried in the sheets.

“I’ll leave a key on the table. You don’t have to give it back.”

Looking a little embarrassed, he said that and left.

When the door clicked shut and silence lingered, Kitazawa finally rose and shuffled over to the table. A brand-new key, gleaming, sat there. He picked it up.

“Doubt I’ll use it, though…”

There was no point in coming here without Omiya. Still, it made him happy.

Even after crawling back into bed, Kitazawa kept fiddling with the key for a while. Sleepiness overtook him again, and he pressed his face into the sheets that still smelled of Omiya, fingers closing tight around the key as he drifted off.

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