Fan Fiction ❯ Kakawarazu Oshi (In Spite of Authority) ❯ Saisho ( Chapter 2 )
[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]
By: Violet_Nyte 
Second arc: How Kimura and Yasun met, taking place when they were in college.
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Drama / Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 12.15.2002 | Pages: 5 | Words: 2.4K | Visits: 177 | Status: Completed
Second arc: How Kimura and Yasun met, taking place when they were in college.
Anime/Manga: Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Angst / Drama / Romance | Type: Other | Uploaded On: 12.15.2002 | Pages: 5 | Words: 2.4K | Visits: 177 | Status: Completed
LSE // 6-15-02
(Saisho - Beginning)
rated: R - violence, language, sexual references
shounen-ai/yaoi
Saisho
"Hel lo. I'm Fujimi Kimura, from your psychology class. Hey, Fujimi,
from psych. How do you do? I am Fujimi Kimura, your psychology tutor.
Yo, I'm the tutor, Fujimi." Kimura shook his head and gathered the
textbook closer to him, taking reassurance in it's solid presense.
It was one of those dorms, the old red brick type with impossibly male
attitude just dripping from every corner, right down the fragrance of
sake. Kimura slowly raised a hand and, gathering himself mentally,
rapped twice on the door.
"What?"
Yes, and this man fit the dorm perfectly. But he wasn't Hawari. "Erm,
good evening, I'm here to see Hawari Yasun...is he in?" Oh, he sounded
so nerdy! Kimura tried to offer a manly grin, but fell short and ended
up looking like a wimp.
"Yo! Ha-wa-ri!" The man wandered off leaving the door open. Kimura
hesitantly poke his head inside, surveying the dingy room.
"May I help you?"
Kimura forgot how to breathe. Something involving the lungs...
breathlessly, he introduced himself.
"What?"
"Fujimi Kimura...psychology?"
"Oh, yeah. Shou-san was actually serious about the tutoring, then? Come
on in." Muscular, but not overly so, just the healthy tone of someone
slightly beyond normal fitness. The man was taller, older, pretty in a
more manly way, sharply contrasted to Kimura's delicate, almost
feminine beauty. His hair was dyed blonde, cut short, and eyes were a
cold steel blue, but, yet, a certain softness... Kimura hastily entered
and tried to think about anything other than the ten'yo before him.
"I thought we'd look over the class notes, senpai." He managed at last.
Hawari shrugged, "Sake?" He nodded to the cooler beside the sea green
sofa, which he prompty settled onto.
"No, thank you. Do you have your notes?" Kimura sat an arms length
away, almost on the arm of the sofa, and opened his textbook, pages
still crisp.
"Uhm, don't have any. Copy yours?"
Kimura relinquished the loose-leaf papers. "Where's your textbook?"
"Damn, Takahiro barrowed it last week and I haven't seen it since.
Hasegawa said I could use his old one though," Hawari dug a much worn
textbook from the cusions.
"You're joking... Senpai, that's last years book."
"It's all the same thing."
---------------------------------------------------------- ------------
"...across several synapses at once. This produces either stimulus or
inhibitory responses..."
Yasun couldn't suppress a yawn. The freshman tutor shot him a scolding
glance, and Yasun offered an apologetic smile in return. Not the kid's
fault they were stuck in the college library at... he looked to his
watch... eleven o'clock on a friday night. He yawned again and
stretched, "I thought psychology was suppose to deal with people's
thoughts, not science and whatever."
"Psychology is the study of people's behavior using the scientific
method, remember? You'll need to know that for the test."
Yasun started to say something cynical, but stopped at the look in
those warm brown eyes. Lord, the kid looked like such a girl sometimes!
"Ossu." He popped open another can of sake
The boy grinned, turning the page in his own textbook before looking
over to make sure Yasun was following along. Maybe tutoring wouldn't
be too bad.
------------------------------------------------------------- ----------
He'd never been in the senpai's dorm room before. He felt as if he was
violating some sort of scared boundry. Which was a foolish idea, since
he no one had answered the door and it only seemed logical to locate
Hawari. Sure enough, he found the older man stretched out across his
futon, but he looked asleep. Kimura hesitated, unsure of what to do.
They had to study, an important tests were rapidly approaching, even
if it was not yet finals time. Hawari just had to pass the test if he
had any hope of making a decent grade. "Senpai?"
He crossed the room, placing his book aside and kneeling, warily, aside
the pallet. "Senpai, wake up."
Eyes lazily opened, taking in the delicate face framed by a shock of
blue black hair. For a moment neither spoke, Kimura wondered at the
flush across the man's cheeks, then realized it was only a blush of
alcohol and, disappointed, began to rise. "Hey, don't go."
The voice was casual, slightly slurred, but Kimura caught an underlying
sense of pain. Confused, he searched the man's face, searched his eyes,
for any clues, but a devilish grin alighted the features, wiping away
and deeper emotion. "Do you want to study?"
"No." Hawari gained his feet, "I don't want to study."
Kimura abandoned his textbook and followed the older man downstairs,
"Where are you going?"
Hawari shrugged, the muscles in his back visble beneath the thin,
white cotton shirt he wore. Kimura worldlessly followed outside, since
he hadn't been dismissd he just assumed he was to follow. Hawari jammed
his hands into the tight pockets of the faded jeans and sagged against
a telephone pole, "You ever had a woman, Fujimi?"
Kimura blinked owlishly in surprise. "Once," he acknowledged. He didn't
have fond memories of the experience, either. It had finally made him
realize his tastes belonged elsewhere
Hawari shot him a puzzled glance, "Just the one? Eh, freshie...your
lucky, you know. Women only bring trouble."
"Hai, senpai."
"Did you ever meet Kaori?"
"Who?"
Hawari straightened and started walking once more, "Nishiba Kaori,
sparkling girl...beautiful. She has an ass like you wouldn't believe."
"Your girlfriend, senpai?"
"Was."
Hawari didn't say anything else, but then again, he didn't need to.
Kimura easily made the connection between the upperclassmen's mood and
this latest developement. This Kaori must have just recently ended
things, maybe even that night. Most likely as Kimura was driving over.
"Henshu!"
Kimura stiffened but didn't stop walking, only slightly closing the
gap between himself and the other man. He didn't want trouble, and
since Hawari didn't seem to hear the shout he wouldn't mention it.
"Henshu!"
Hawari rocked to a stop, turning towards the group of three fellow
seniors he barely recognized. "Come again?" he called, swaying slightly
at his sudden change of motion. Kimura tried to become one with the
background.
The trio crossed the street and took up position not too far away. The
leader, a big man, more built than Hawari, sneered, "Hey, Fujimi, who's
the prick?"
"Go away, Mizuro."
Mizuro, not on inclined to listen, stepped forward, "Fag."
Hawari casually flexed his fists, not liking the situation at all, but
suddenly wanting to beat the man's face in. "Get lost, punk."
Mizuro ran an eye over him, calculating, then looking back at his two
companions, pleased with how the odds fell out, "Fujimi's got himself
a real man this time, by the looks of it. Someone with some balls."
Hawari took a menancing step forward, but Kimura darted forward,
surprising himself by slamming a fist into Mizuro's jaw. It wasn't a
very powerful blow, but an unexpected one. The larger man's head jerked
sideways. Kimura tried to look as if he had meant to do that. Images,
memories, of his last run-in with Mizuro swirled in the back of his
mind, but he chose only to take anger from them. "Get. Lost."
Mizuro brought a fist up, expecting the younger, smaller, man to flich,
but Kimura didn't. It pissed him off that the little fag thought he
could take the mighty Mizuro. Kimura ducked the swing, lithe speed on
his side as he countered with a punch of his own, but Mizuro was read
and easily caught his fist in his huge hand.
He shouted in wordless loathing and kicked uselessly at Mizuro's shins.
Suddenly, Hawari lurched forward and easily landed a blow on the larger
man's nose. Mizuro let go of Kimura's fist and cursed, cautionary
fingers rising to quell the crimson flow. The two goons, who had
previously been slumped behind Mizuro, stepped forward. Kimura yelled
a warning and shoved the smaller of the two, but he was still bigger
than himself.
He'd never been a fighter, and the other man was obviously trained for
it. Kimura knew it was a useless fight and that he'd lose, but some
sort of hope remained that, maybe, if he kept this one away from Hawari
they'd get out in one piece. Mizuro seemed content to let his pals
handle the tough part; he'd get his deal in once the blonde fighter
was subdued.
Kimura shielded himself as best he could from the rain of blows,
trying to give at least a fraction of what he was getting. From the
corner of his eye he saw Hawari knocked down his opponent, a small
victory. He connected a fist squarely into the other man's eye, which
earned him a small respite from the hail of attack. A small respite,
which he paid for as the man let off aiming for his face and punched
him solidly in the stomache. He doubled over, breathlessly trying to
pull away, out of range, but his muscles spasmed with pain, refusing
to cooperate.
Hawari looked up from his fallen opponent and met Mizuro's hateful
glare, which suddenly turned into a triumphant grin as his eyes left
his own. He follow the man's gaze and cursed, Fujimi was down.
Kimura heard a loud buzzing, which soon became a full out wailing.
Sirens. Someone called the police, he thought dimly.
Mizoru had no desire to be thrown in jail, he quickly turned and jogged
off. The other two started to stay, but similiar run-ins with the law
had never ended up well, so they, too, fled. Hawari started to follow,
intending to settle things elsewhere, but glance to Fujimi stopped him.
Kimura gratefully accepted the offered hand and tried to stand without
a wince, but his head was pounding so hard his vision seemed to shake.
His insides twisted around the knotted pain from the last punch.
Concidering it all, he'd come out pretty good. He'd gotten much worse
from Mizuro and his crew.
"Can you walk fast? We gotta run before the cops show up."
As they hurried back to Hawari's dorm, Kimura realized no one had ever
stood up for him before. He hadn't thought that Hawari held anything
for him other than tolerance...he hadn't even thought the older man
even liked him as a friend. Hawari was willing to take a few hits to
defend him, a lowly freshman.
Similiar thoughts were running through Yasun's head, for he himself
didn't even know what motivated him to step up like that. Several
excuses seemed likely, he didn't like seeing Mizuro picking on Kimura,
he was just being a good senpai, but, deep down, he knew none of these
applied. He hadn't done it out of friendship either. It's the alcohol,
he told himself. You're just a nice guy, he reassured himself. That's
all.
The dorm was empty, the occupants either out boozing or busy elsewhere,
and suddenly Kimura knew he just couldn't stand it anymore. He waited
until the door was shut before stepping up to Hawari, gazing into his
steel eyes, "I want to thank you."
"Don't mention it."
Kimura hesitated, then gathered himself and stood on tiptoe, brushing
his lips across the older man's, just a hint of kiss. Blue eyes widened
in surprise, but Kimura happily noted Hawari didn't draw away in
disgust. Hope filled him, "I've never met anyone like you," he gushed
in a breathless whisper, moving even closer.
"Fuji-"
"Shh..." He deepened the kiss, pulling Hawari to him. He tasted like
cheap sake. Kimura felt a slight twinge of guilt for taking advantage
of the drunken man like this, but he couldn't resist anymore. If Hawari
pushed him away, so be it.
He didn't push him away. It didn't seem to matter that everything
Yasun'd ever been taught went against him actually feeling a stirring
at the young man's kisses. He found himself returning them just as
passionately. Yasun hesitantly put his arms around the other man, and
Fujimi responded by placing slender, delicate hands around his neck,
further hightening the kiss.
They touched foreheads, breathing rapid against the other's face. "Are
you sure, Fujimi?" Yasun asked, sake-addled brain dimly grasping the
situation. He was lonely, Kaori was gone. Why shouldn't he enjoy the
throes of passion that night?
"Yasun..." A finger slowly traced a line along the side of his face,
"Are you...?"
Yasun registered surprise at the form of address, but not much. "Not
here," he mumbled in response before scooping the smaller man into his
arms. The stairs threatened to throw him, his footing was shaky enough
on level ground, but he made it up to his room, nudging closed the door
after them. Lips met once more as Yasun lowered them both onto the
futon. He had no idea what how this worked, he'd never...with a man...
Fingers nimble and sure were unbuttoning his shirt, undoing his pants.
Yasun's own hands were clumsy by comparison, but somehow he managed do
the same to Fuji...Kimura, now he was Kimura. They parted only to gain
breath, their kisses taking on an almost desperate frenzy as they shed
the last bits of clothing.
-------------------------------------------------------- ---------------
Kimura lay still and struggled to return his breathing to much more
normal pace. He was exhausted, worn out from his shuddering climax.
Beside him, he could hear the change in Yasun's breathing that signaled
the older man had fallen asleep. Again, he felt a twinge of guilt,
because he knew this might never have happened without Yasun being
completely drunk. Yet, the other man had responded with so much
enthusiasm... Was it possible...Yasun actually felt the same as he did?
He knew he should leave before he, too, fell asleep. There could be no
excuses in the morning, no way to dismiss what had happened. Kimura
knew that he should just leave, if Yasun woke alone he might assume it
had all been a very strange dream.
He didn't want to leave. He didn't it to be a dream.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Notes:
This is the second story I've done using Kim and Yas, and I'm pleased
with how it turned out. There IS a sequel, I promise!
It might get confusing how I switch between Kimura's viewpoint and
Yasun's, especially sine the men refer to each other by last names.
Fujimi = Kimura, Hawari = Yasun.
sake - rice beer
Senpai - senior (at work or, in this case, school)
Ten'yo - godsend
Ossu - yes, sir
hai - yes
henshu - freak
original story copyright 2002
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)
violetnyte.fallenweb.net
(Saisho - Beginning)
rated: R - violence, language, sexual references
shounen-ai/yaoi
Saisho
"Hel lo. I'm Fujimi Kimura, from your psychology class. Hey, Fujimi,
from psych. How do you do? I am Fujimi Kimura, your psychology tutor.
Yo, I'm the tutor, Fujimi." Kimura shook his head and gathered the
textbook closer to him, taking reassurance in it's solid presense.
It was one of those dorms, the old red brick type with impossibly male
attitude just dripping from every corner, right down the fragrance of
sake. Kimura slowly raised a hand and, gathering himself mentally,
rapped twice on the door.
"What?"
Yes, and this man fit the dorm perfectly. But he wasn't Hawari. "Erm,
good evening, I'm here to see Hawari Yasun...is he in?" Oh, he sounded
so nerdy! Kimura tried to offer a manly grin, but fell short and ended
up looking like a wimp.
"Yo! Ha-wa-ri!" The man wandered off leaving the door open. Kimura
hesitantly poke his head inside, surveying the dingy room.
"May I help you?"
Kimura forgot how to breathe. Something involving the lungs...
breathlessly, he introduced himself.
"What?"
"Fujimi Kimura...psychology?"
"Oh, yeah. Shou-san was actually serious about the tutoring, then? Come
on in." Muscular, but not overly so, just the healthy tone of someone
slightly beyond normal fitness. The man was taller, older, pretty in a
more manly way, sharply contrasted to Kimura's delicate, almost
feminine beauty. His hair was dyed blonde, cut short, and eyes were a
cold steel blue, but, yet, a certain softness... Kimura hastily entered
and tried to think about anything other than the ten'yo before him.
"I thought we'd look over the class notes, senpai." He managed at last.
Hawari shrugged, "Sake?" He nodded to the cooler beside the sea green
sofa, which he prompty settled onto.
"No, thank you. Do you have your notes?" Kimura sat an arms length
away, almost on the arm of the sofa, and opened his textbook, pages
still crisp.
"Uhm, don't have any. Copy yours?"
Kimura relinquished the loose-leaf papers. "Where's your textbook?"
"Damn, Takahiro barrowed it last week and I haven't seen it since.
Hasegawa said I could use his old one though," Hawari dug a much worn
textbook from the cusions.
"You're joking... Senpai, that's last years book."
"It's all the same thing."
---------------------------------------------------------- ------------
"...across several synapses at once. This produces either stimulus or
inhibitory responses..."
Yasun couldn't suppress a yawn. The freshman tutor shot him a scolding
glance, and Yasun offered an apologetic smile in return. Not the kid's
fault they were stuck in the college library at... he looked to his
watch... eleven o'clock on a friday night. He yawned again and
stretched, "I thought psychology was suppose to deal with people's
thoughts, not science and whatever."
"Psychology is the study of people's behavior using the scientific
method, remember? You'll need to know that for the test."
Yasun started to say something cynical, but stopped at the look in
those warm brown eyes. Lord, the kid looked like such a girl sometimes!
"Ossu." He popped open another can of sake
The boy grinned, turning the page in his own textbook before looking
over to make sure Yasun was following along. Maybe tutoring wouldn't
be too bad.
------------------------------------------------------------- ----------
He'd never been in the senpai's dorm room before. He felt as if he was
violating some sort of scared boundry. Which was a foolish idea, since
he no one had answered the door and it only seemed logical to locate
Hawari. Sure enough, he found the older man stretched out across his
futon, but he looked asleep. Kimura hesitated, unsure of what to do.
They had to study, an important tests were rapidly approaching, even
if it was not yet finals time. Hawari just had to pass the test if he
had any hope of making a decent grade. "Senpai?"
He crossed the room, placing his book aside and kneeling, warily, aside
the pallet. "Senpai, wake up."
Eyes lazily opened, taking in the delicate face framed by a shock of
blue black hair. For a moment neither spoke, Kimura wondered at the
flush across the man's cheeks, then realized it was only a blush of
alcohol and, disappointed, began to rise. "Hey, don't go."
The voice was casual, slightly slurred, but Kimura caught an underlying
sense of pain. Confused, he searched the man's face, searched his eyes,
for any clues, but a devilish grin alighted the features, wiping away
and deeper emotion. "Do you want to study?"
"No." Hawari gained his feet, "I don't want to study."
Kimura abandoned his textbook and followed the older man downstairs,
"Where are you going?"
Hawari shrugged, the muscles in his back visble beneath the thin,
white cotton shirt he wore. Kimura worldlessly followed outside, since
he hadn't been dismissd he just assumed he was to follow. Hawari jammed
his hands into the tight pockets of the faded jeans and sagged against
a telephone pole, "You ever had a woman, Fujimi?"
Kimura blinked owlishly in surprise. "Once," he acknowledged. He didn't
have fond memories of the experience, either. It had finally made him
realize his tastes belonged elsewhere
Hawari shot him a puzzled glance, "Just the one? Eh, freshie...your
lucky, you know. Women only bring trouble."
"Hai, senpai."
"Did you ever meet Kaori?"
"Who?"
Hawari straightened and started walking once more, "Nishiba Kaori,
sparkling girl...beautiful. She has an ass like you wouldn't believe."
"Your girlfriend, senpai?"
"Was."
Hawari didn't say anything else, but then again, he didn't need to.
Kimura easily made the connection between the upperclassmen's mood and
this latest developement. This Kaori must have just recently ended
things, maybe even that night. Most likely as Kimura was driving over.
"Henshu!"
Kimura stiffened but didn't stop walking, only slightly closing the
gap between himself and the other man. He didn't want trouble, and
since Hawari didn't seem to hear the shout he wouldn't mention it.
"Henshu!"
Hawari rocked to a stop, turning towards the group of three fellow
seniors he barely recognized. "Come again?" he called, swaying slightly
at his sudden change of motion. Kimura tried to become one with the
background.
The trio crossed the street and took up position not too far away. The
leader, a big man, more built than Hawari, sneered, "Hey, Fujimi, who's
the prick?"
"Go away, Mizuro."
Mizuro, not on inclined to listen, stepped forward, "Fag."
Hawari casually flexed his fists, not liking the situation at all, but
suddenly wanting to beat the man's face in. "Get lost, punk."
Mizuro ran an eye over him, calculating, then looking back at his two
companions, pleased with how the odds fell out, "Fujimi's got himself
a real man this time, by the looks of it. Someone with some balls."
Hawari took a menancing step forward, but Kimura darted forward,
surprising himself by slamming a fist into Mizuro's jaw. It wasn't a
very powerful blow, but an unexpected one. The larger man's head jerked
sideways. Kimura tried to look as if he had meant to do that. Images,
memories, of his last run-in with Mizuro swirled in the back of his
mind, but he chose only to take anger from them. "Get. Lost."
Mizuro brought a fist up, expecting the younger, smaller, man to flich,
but Kimura didn't. It pissed him off that the little fag thought he
could take the mighty Mizuro. Kimura ducked the swing, lithe speed on
his side as he countered with a punch of his own, but Mizuro was read
and easily caught his fist in his huge hand.
He shouted in wordless loathing and kicked uselessly at Mizuro's shins.
Suddenly, Hawari lurched forward and easily landed a blow on the larger
man's nose. Mizuro let go of Kimura's fist and cursed, cautionary
fingers rising to quell the crimson flow. The two goons, who had
previously been slumped behind Mizuro, stepped forward. Kimura yelled
a warning and shoved the smaller of the two, but he was still bigger
than himself.
He'd never been a fighter, and the other man was obviously trained for
it. Kimura knew it was a useless fight and that he'd lose, but some
sort of hope remained that, maybe, if he kept this one away from Hawari
they'd get out in one piece. Mizuro seemed content to let his pals
handle the tough part; he'd get his deal in once the blonde fighter
was subdued.
Kimura shielded himself as best he could from the rain of blows,
trying to give at least a fraction of what he was getting. From the
corner of his eye he saw Hawari knocked down his opponent, a small
victory. He connected a fist squarely into the other man's eye, which
earned him a small respite from the hail of attack. A small respite,
which he paid for as the man let off aiming for his face and punched
him solidly in the stomache. He doubled over, breathlessly trying to
pull away, out of range, but his muscles spasmed with pain, refusing
to cooperate.
Hawari looked up from his fallen opponent and met Mizuro's hateful
glare, which suddenly turned into a triumphant grin as his eyes left
his own. He follow the man's gaze and cursed, Fujimi was down.
Kimura heard a loud buzzing, which soon became a full out wailing.
Sirens. Someone called the police, he thought dimly.
Mizoru had no desire to be thrown in jail, he quickly turned and jogged
off. The other two started to stay, but similiar run-ins with the law
had never ended up well, so they, too, fled. Hawari started to follow,
intending to settle things elsewhere, but glance to Fujimi stopped him.
Kimura gratefully accepted the offered hand and tried to stand without
a wince, but his head was pounding so hard his vision seemed to shake.
His insides twisted around the knotted pain from the last punch.
Concidering it all, he'd come out pretty good. He'd gotten much worse
from Mizuro and his crew.
"Can you walk fast? We gotta run before the cops show up."
As they hurried back to Hawari's dorm, Kimura realized no one had ever
stood up for him before. He hadn't thought that Hawari held anything
for him other than tolerance...he hadn't even thought the older man
even liked him as a friend. Hawari was willing to take a few hits to
defend him, a lowly freshman.
Similiar thoughts were running through Yasun's head, for he himself
didn't even know what motivated him to step up like that. Several
excuses seemed likely, he didn't like seeing Mizuro picking on Kimura,
he was just being a good senpai, but, deep down, he knew none of these
applied. He hadn't done it out of friendship either. It's the alcohol,
he told himself. You're just a nice guy, he reassured himself. That's
all.
The dorm was empty, the occupants either out boozing or busy elsewhere,
and suddenly Kimura knew he just couldn't stand it anymore. He waited
until the door was shut before stepping up to Hawari, gazing into his
steel eyes, "I want to thank you."
"Don't mention it."
Kimura hesitated, then gathered himself and stood on tiptoe, brushing
his lips across the older man's, just a hint of kiss. Blue eyes widened
in surprise, but Kimura happily noted Hawari didn't draw away in
disgust. Hope filled him, "I've never met anyone like you," he gushed
in a breathless whisper, moving even closer.
"Fuji-"
"Shh..." He deepened the kiss, pulling Hawari to him. He tasted like
cheap sake. Kimura felt a slight twinge of guilt for taking advantage
of the drunken man like this, but he couldn't resist anymore. If Hawari
pushed him away, so be it.
He didn't push him away. It didn't seem to matter that everything
Yasun'd ever been taught went against him actually feeling a stirring
at the young man's kisses. He found himself returning them just as
passionately. Yasun hesitantly put his arms around the other man, and
Fujimi responded by placing slender, delicate hands around his neck,
further hightening the kiss.
They touched foreheads, breathing rapid against the other's face. "Are
you sure, Fujimi?" Yasun asked, sake-addled brain dimly grasping the
situation. He was lonely, Kaori was gone. Why shouldn't he enjoy the
throes of passion that night?
"Yasun..." A finger slowly traced a line along the side of his face,
"Are you...?"
Yasun registered surprise at the form of address, but not much. "Not
here," he mumbled in response before scooping the smaller man into his
arms. The stairs threatened to throw him, his footing was shaky enough
on level ground, but he made it up to his room, nudging closed the door
after them. Lips met once more as Yasun lowered them both onto the
futon. He had no idea what how this worked, he'd never...with a man...
Fingers nimble and sure were unbuttoning his shirt, undoing his pants.
Yasun's own hands were clumsy by comparison, but somehow he managed do
the same to Fuji...Kimura, now he was Kimura. They parted only to gain
breath, their kisses taking on an almost desperate frenzy as they shed
the last bits of clothing.
-------------------------------------------------------- ---------------
Kimura lay still and struggled to return his breathing to much more
normal pace. He was exhausted, worn out from his shuddering climax.
Beside him, he could hear the change in Yasun's breathing that signaled
the older man had fallen asleep. Again, he felt a twinge of guilt,
because he knew this might never have happened without Yasun being
completely drunk. Yet, the other man had responded with so much
enthusiasm... Was it possible...Yasun actually felt the same as he did?
He knew he should leave before he, too, fell asleep. There could be no
excuses in the morning, no way to dismiss what had happened. Kimura
knew that he should just leave, if Yasun woke alone he might assume it
had all been a very strange dream.
He didn't want to leave. He didn't it to be a dream.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's Notes:
This is the second story I've done using Kim and Yas, and I'm pleased
with how it turned out. There IS a sequel, I promise!
It might get confusing how I switch between Kimura's viewpoint and
Yasun's, especially sine the men refer to each other by last names.
Fujimi = Kimura, Hawari = Yasun.
sake - rice beer
Senpai - senior (at work or, in this case, school)
Ten'yo - godsend
Ossu - yes, sir
hai - yes
henshu - freak
original story copyright 2002
LSE - "Violet" (ManzokuBiscuit@aol.com)
violetnyte.fallenweb.net