The Piano Man (Iwaoi)

Chapter 20

        "Do you remember when we were on the playground in first grade and I fell off the jungle gym? I scraped my knee, and you started bossing people around, telling one kid to tell the teacher, another kid to get bandages..."

        "I remember. I was so terrified, I'd never seen a cut like that before."

        "None of us could tell you were scared at all. You were so smooth and authoritative."

        "I've always been a good actor, haven't I?"

        "And I was just sitting there laughing, because I knew it wasn't a big deal, but I knew you would get upset if I told you that."

        Tooru reached up and clung to Hajime's neck like a baby monkey and kissed his bare chest. It was late—a little past midnight. But these hours were the only time that Hajime and Tooru had together. Hajime, even more than Ushiwaka, was married to his work. He rarely took days off and had racked up an absurd number of vacation days, always went into work despite sickness, was the first into the precinct and the last to leave almost every day. Late at night, sleepy and weary, exhausted, starved for touch and intimacy, were the moments that Tooru and Hajime had to love each other. Which was why most nights they were at Hajime's apartment. Which was why most nights, Tooru massaged Hajime's shoulders, kissed him and touched him in forgotten places, why most nights they talked and loved until late, late, late at night. (Which in turn was why Hajime was running on so little sleep. Tooru tried to get him to sleep more, but Hajime claimed that he couldn't with Tooru running his mouth all night.)

        Hajime was still recovering from the terrible break with Michiko. The emotional, social, and economic ramifications were just as bad as they'd been expecting, and he was hurting. Tooru tried to heal him without revealing that he needed healing, too—after all, Hajime didn't really need to do anything special to help Tooru heal. Holding him, kissing him, telling him he loved him was everything Tooru needed to heal. Looking up and seeing Hajime's cheek pressed to the pillow, black paintbrush eyelashes fluttering up and down, fingers absentmindedly stroking Tooru's shoulder. The languor in his eyes, the messiness of his hair, the scars on his skin and the overwhelming beauty of his limbs moving and stretching in the twilit shadows. This was all Tooru needed to heal.

        "I liked to think I was in control, even then," Tooru grinned. He was obsessed with the feeling of Hajime's index finger twirling a strand of his curling chocolate hair.

        "You were in control. Everybody listened to you without even questioning it."

        "I needed to be."

        "Control freak."

        Tooru stuck his tongue out at him, and Hajime stuck his tongue back. Then he leaned forward and swallowed it with a slow, lustful kiss.

        "Not so controlling now, hmm?" he teased in hushed tones.

        "I guess you're the exception, I-wa-cha-an~."

        Hajime took the invitation and rolled Tooru over onto his back. He settled himself between his hips and kissed him heavily, burying his hands in his hair and pushing against his crotch. Tooru gripped Hajime's warm wrists, wrapped his legs around his waist, and pulled him in tighter. Until sweet, stomach-churning pleasure spread from between his legs and up to the moan in his lips. When his mouth opened, Hajime grinned, traced the line of Tooru's wide, wet lips with his tongue, taunted him so cruelly. Then he clamped his teeth gently down on Tooru's lower lip. Sucked, and, made thirsty, kissed him as if his life depended on it.

        "If you fell off a jungle gym today," Tooru murmured, moving his hips with Hajime's slow thrusts, "I'd be just as terrified."

        "You're so...ah, you're so full of it."