the aphrodisiac (2nd birthday lemon for gohan)


“Are you sure this is such a good idea?”

“I will win this bet, Mitsuru.”

“Uh-huh. Right. I have no doubt. But why me? And why them?”

“For the last time: Yoshi and Fujikake are the perfect targets because they’re the last two people anyone would choose for a prank. And you’re here to help me because you’re my roommate.”

“And?”

A sigh.

“You’re my best friend.”

“And?”

A deeper sigh.

“Must I say it?”

“No, you don’t. I can just walk away right now and enjoy those chocolates Sumire so generously donated to our food fund.”

“Those were Hasukawa’s.”

An airy wave. “Oh, he won’t even know they’re missing!” An expectant look. “So, am I chocolate-bound or are you going to say it?”

“Fine, fine.”

A pause.

“I’m waiting.”

“I need you, Mitsuru Ikeda, because you’re my roommate, my best friend, and the best athlete-cum-trombonist-cum-track runner-cum-scholar in all of Ryokuto Academy.”

“I love it when you say “cum”.”

“Ha, ha. I slap my knee; I laugh out loud.”

“Okay, let’s get this over with.” Then, under his breath: “Smart ass.”

“I heard that.”

Squaring his shoulders in resignation, Mitsuru began sidling down the hall, his back against the wall and his head swiveling furtively in a perfect imitation of an army commando. Next to him, Shinobu followed, not as melodramatically but just as stealthily.

Room 117 was at the end of the corridor and the two boys slinked silently on unshod feet past the other dorm rooms. All was quiet, save for the muted chirping of cicadas from outside. Covert maneuvers were relatively easy to execute here on the first floor, which housed the majority of the freshmen. First year kids were notoriously sound sleepers, what with their arduous schedule of classes and clubs.

Reaching their destination, Shinobu moved past his roommate so that both boys flanked the door. He put a finger to his lips to signal silence. Mitsuru wrinkled his nose, annoyed that Shinobu felt he needed reminding. He scowled, jerked his head to the door, held up middle and index finger, and pointed to his eyes.

It was Shinobu’s turn to frown. Looking incredulously at Mitsuru, he shrugged his shoulders in incomprehension. Mitsuru glared and repeated his action. Shinobu remained perplexed.

“It’s the standard signal for “look”, you idiot!” Mitsuru hissed.

“Why didn’t you just say “look”?”

“Because we’re supposed to be quiet.”

“Well, you aren’t doing such a good job of that, are you?”

Shinobu turned away, tested the doorknob, and slipped into the room, leaving Mitsuru to seethe in frustration and irritation. After a second of righteous hesitation, the blonde joined his roommate, soundlessly closing the door behind him.

It was pitch black; Yoshi and Fujikake always kept their curtains shut tight for privacy. But the layout of each dorm room was essentially the same and Shinobu made his way to the window with easy familiarity. He flicked open he curtain just enough to allow a sliver of moonlight in, then gestured at Mitsuru to get to work.

Inwardly grumbling and thinking all kinds of pestiferous names he would call his best friend once they’d done the deed and were well away from the scene of the crime, Mitsuru clambered on to the top bunk. It was, of course, empty. The two first years were notorious for sharing one bed; it was this information that had set Shinobu’s malevolent mind whirling in the first place. Unfortunately, Shinobu was a self-proclaimed thinker, not a doer. He always left the grunt work to his faithful friend to perform. A boy had to feel useful, after all.

Bored as he waited for Mitsuru to finish his task, Shinobu glanced around the room for some distraction or arsenal for future pranks. The bottom bunk’s bed curtain was drawn firmly closed, but the tandem breathing of two bodies was exceptionally loud in the hushed silence.

Shinobu felt an inexplicable twisting in his gut – spiraling perilously close to his groin – as his treacherous mind conjured up images of what could possibly lie just behind that thin piece of cloth. His eyes inadvertently jerked up, seeking Mitsuru. A jolt of electricity shot down his spine as he spied his roommate’s inviting behind.

Inviting? Gah! This room is contagious!

Shinobu firmly averted his eyes and looked for something else to focus on. On the chabudai in the middle of the room, vague and indistinct in the almost darkness, were a vase of roses, two half-empty soda cans, several burnt sticks of incense, a candle stub coalesced on a dish, and a box.

Shinobu’s grey eyes flashed with devilish glee as he fixated on the familiar-looking box. Walking from the window and sitting on his haunches, he brought his nose to it and sniffed. Dark chocolate. Mitsuru’s favorite. He unrepentantly grabbed the last three pieces and cradled them in his left hand, keeping his grasp loose and open so as not to melt his prize.

He jerked up and back as he heard Mitsuru scrambling back down, mission apparently accomplished. It struck Shinobu as odd that, for all the noise his roommate was making – clumsy oaf! – Yoshi and Fujikake had not stirred a bit. He brushed the thought aside and chalked it up to good fortune, however, and when Mitsuru’s foot left the bottom rung, Shinobu was nonchalantly leaning against the window ledge where his roommate had left him.

The silver-haired boy kept his hand inconspicuously in the shadows as he quirked his brow in inquiry. Mitsuru nodded once abruptly, gave him a thumb’s up, then motioned to the door. Like silent spirits, the two ghosted out the room, the only hint of their invasion the window curtains twitched open.

From the sky, the moon chuckled at what he’d just witnessed and prepared to enjoy the resulting hijinks from Shinobu’s theft.

~

“Well, we did it.”

“What do you mean “we”? I did all the work! As usual.”

“And it was well done.”

“Don’t patronize me, Shinobu.”

“Don’t be so surly, Mitsuru.”

Mitsuru flung himself on the bottom bunk, causing the sharply-creased bed sheets to twist in disarray. Shinobu drew his brows together in dismay. His roommate knew how much he hated it when his hospital corner tucks came untucked. It was a deliberate act of petulance on Mitsuru’s part, and Shinobu would have probably been more annoyed had his heart not been playing hopscotch against his ribcage at the sight of the golden blonde sprawled on his bed. His bed. Just like Yoshi and Fujikake…

What was wrong with him? Shinobu mentally shook himself, denying the very graphic scenes his creative mind was even at the moment sketching for him in full color. He clenched his fists to steady his nerves, belatedly realizing that his left hand was occupied. Wincing as the sticky caramel filling oozed out its hard chocolate shell, Shinobu decided that the best way to get rid of his brazen thoughts was to torment the object of said thoughts.

“Oi, Mitsuru! Guess Hasukawa beat you at your own game.”

“Huh?”

“The box of chocolates you swiped from him? They’re gone.”

“That little sneak!” Mitsuru bolted from the bunk, narrowly missing hitting his head against the low beam of the top one. He verified that the treasure, which he’d placed on Shinobu’s desk before they’d set out on their escapade, was indeed missing. He groaned mournfully. “And I’m hungry, too!”

“Hmmm…that’s too bad,” Shinobu smirked and popped one of the stolen sweets in his mouth.

“Wha…what’s that?” Mitsuru spluttered even as his keen nose told him with certainty that chocolate was in their midst.

“Don’t you wish you had one, being so hungry and all?” Shinobu ate the second piece, closing his eyes and murmuring at its yummy goodness.

“No fair, Shinobu! I deserve at least a bite after all the work I did! Gimme!” Mitsuru lunged for his roommate but was too late. By the time he’d unfolded himself from the lower bunk, the third and last square had disappeared into the welcoming depths of Shinobu’s mouth.

“Oh, did you want some then? I’m sorry. That was all I had.” A fiendish gleam graced the boy’s grey eyes as he licked his fingers clean and swiped a pink tongue delicately on his palm like a self-satisfied cat.

Mitsuru stared, aghast. His roommate was the devil incarnate! His stomach grumbled in agreement.

“How could you do that to me? That was a horrible, monstrous, despicable…”

“Been reading the thesaurus again, Mitsuru?”

The blonde was inarticulate with indignation and didn’t deign that last remark with a response. Throwing his hands up with an air in surrender, he proceeded to shuck off his clothes until he was wearing nothing more than a pair of faded boxers. Leaving everything lying haphazardly on the floor, Mitsuru bounded into his bed wiggled under the covers and threw the sheets over his head.

Shinobu was left standing in the middle of the room, breathless. It wasn’t the mess that bothered him, even though he kept insisting to his subconscious that it was. In truth, watching Mitsuru strip was the cause of his near asphyxiation. They’d dressed in front of each other before – good lord, they’d even shared baths together countless of times! – but there was something different about tonight. Perhaps the freshmen lovers’ room was contagious after all!

And if it was, did Shinobu really mind all that much?

Divesting himself of jeans and a black T-shirt, the bewildered boy opted for boxers to bed as well. It wasn’t his standard procedure but, all of a sudden, the room had gotten stiflingly hot. Shinobu was acutely aware of the rustling above him as he slid into his mussed bed. He was so busy alternately trying to picture what Mitsuru was doing then kicking himself for being so obsessed that he nearly passed out in shock when the blonde’s head came poking, upside-down, into his line of vision.

“You are so going to regret the day you messed with me, Tezuka!” Mitsuru intoned ominously, then he popped back out of sight, the wooden slats bowing underneath him as he bounced on his bed.

Outside, the moon waited patiently.

~

It must have been about two o’clock in the morning – that expectant, breathless time that felt like the moment right before a first kiss – when Shinobu woke himself up with the erratic thumping of his heart. He stared blankly at the bed frame above him and waited for it to resume its normal, comforting thumping. But the longer he waited, the faster it got, and soon he felt a bead of sweat trickle down his temple, a sign of strain and concentration.

What is this? Am I sick?

The thrumming of his pulse traveled from his chest to lower, more intriguing parts of his anatomy. Shinobu began to sense the initial stirrings of an undeniable arousal.

Not sick, then. Just…excited.

He tried to tamp down the nerve-tingling awareness. He thought firmly of exams, Catholic nuns and tropical fruit, to no avail. He was swamped by an ocean of eroticism and need.

Hmmmm…tropical fruit. Tropical fruit and Mitsuru…

His toes curled of their own volition and his innards exploded like festival fireworks.

What’s happening to me? Why this? Why now? I thought I’d gotten rid of this feeling two months ago!

Two months, four days and six hours, to be exact. He remembered with painful clarity that day, in the furo, when Mitsuru had jumped in and proceeded to pick a water fight with him. They’d splashed, they’d wrestled, then, in the hazy steam of the hot baths and their exertions, Shinobu had experienced the most delicious, the most frightening spike of desire for his muscled roommate.

Before Mitsuru could notice his growing arousal, he’d shoved the boy away, muttered something about needing to study and then he’d scuttled out the room as if pursued by demons.

And I’ve not thought about it since.

Shinobu’s mind screamed in denial as a vivid picture of Mitsuru, naked and in full Technicolor, jumped out at him. His body followed suit, increasing his heart rate even more and adding a few more logs in the stoked furnace that was his belly.

He faced the wall, curled up into a fetal position and whimpered quietly. He reminded himself that the walls of the dorm were paper thin and he didn’t want an overly-concerned Shun or a troubled Hasukawa on his hands. But most of all, he did not want a nosy Mitsuru discovering this troubling ailment that rendered him practically helpless and vulnerable.

“Shinobu?”

Go back to sleep…go back to sleep! Was it really too much to ask…?

“Shin, are you okay?”

Apparently so.

“I’m…fine…” Shinobu managed through gritted teeth.

Unconvinced, Mitsuru leaped from his bunk then plopped unceremoniously on Shinobu’s mattress, dangerously close to the boy. By his tense shoulders, defensive position and piteous, if muffled, moans, Mitsuru ascertained that Shinobu was anything but fine.

Go away…go away…go away! Shinobu gabbled the mantra in his mind, afraid that he would do something rash if his roommate got any nearer but suddenly not caring about the consequences if he did.

Mitsuru frowned. Now Shin was breathing shallowly, his back muscles rippling as he twitched at intermittent intervals. Twitched? Shin never twitched. And, for that matter, Shin never slept shirtless. Mitsuru licked his lips in unconscious anticipation.

What is he doing? Go away! What is he thinking? Leave now! Would he hate me if…? A soft groan escaped Shinobu’s lips before he could clamp down on it. He shuddered.

“Shinobu! Something is wrong!”

Never one to ponder overmuch on his actions, Mitsuru’s concern and impatience overcame any further doubt, and he grabbed Shinobu’s shoulder, pulling the boy away from the wall and onto his back.

It was that touch that did it. The moment warm flesh met his already overly-sensitive skin, the fire in Shinobu’s belly shot unerringly to his groin. So when he turned over helplessly, propelled by the force of Mitsuru’s jerk, he was horrified to feel himself standing proudly at attention. His boxers did nothing but exacerbate the situation by creating a very obvious tent between his legs.

Shinobu shut his eyes, ashamed and hopeless, waiting for the censure and disgust his roommate was sure to express.

A minute becomes a lifetime when one waits in dread. Mitsuru hadn’t moved, but he hadn’t spoken either. The pounding of Shinobu’s heart, echoed by the one in his groin, was deafening. He gathered up his courage then, like tattered robes around him, and opened one wary eye, terrified of what he would see on his roommate’s face.

He blinked, eyes wide open.

Mitsuru was eyeing his crotch with the satisfied smirk of a lion who’d just blooded his prey.

Shinobu flushed when Mitsuru’s raised his gaze and met his eyes. In the darkness, it was difficult to read what was behind those beautiful violet orbs but, in the condition he was in, Shinobu really didn’t care. He didn’t want to think or analyze or speculate. He just wanted to feel. He was one huge ball of twinging nerve endings, raging with unfulfilled need. All Mitsuru had to do was ask and he would surrender.

“Shin…?” Mitsuru whispered.

Good enough.

Shinobu hitched up ever so slightly, raising his left side in invitation. Mitsuru seemed only too happy to oblige, grabbing at the elastic of the boxer’s waistband and slowly pulling them from Shinobu’s hips. The slow skimming of cotton against his stiffness sent Shinobu into paroxysms of lust. He moaned.

Paper thin walls…paper thin walls…paper thin walls…

Shinobu pulled the pillow from under his head and dropped it over his face instead, partly to silence himself and partly to hide his randy reaction to Mitsuru’s startling audacity. Was he humoring him? Or did he want this as much as Shinobu did?

Mitsuru left the boxers rucked around his roommate’s ankles, still overcome by wonder. Maybe it was because it was so late; people were more prone to uninhibited things in the dead of night. Or maybe he’d just been lucky enough to catch Shinobu in the middle of an erotic dream. Mitsuru didn’t want to question his astonishing opportunity. He simply feasted his eyes on Shinobu’s gloriously, tantalizingly naked body, his for the taking.

Mitsuru had thought about this often, had fantasized about having his normally stoic, eerily composed roommate at his mercy. Never in his wildest, most hopeful, dreams did he ever think it would come to pass. Yet here they were, Shinobu all but ordering him to ravage his body. There was a god in heaven!

Kneeling by the bed, the blonde placed a tentative hand on Shinobu’s flat stomach, just above the navel. With the other hand, he traced the leg nearest him, starting from the calf, up and around the knee, then slowly, with increasing boldness, down the inner thigh.

Paper thin walls…paper thin walls…

Shinobu’s involuntary quiver gave Mitsuru all the acquiescence he needed. No longer worried whether his advances would be rebuffed, the blonde drew upon his extensive repertoire of imagined fantasies and set about pleasuring his best friend.

Paper thin walls…paper thin…oooohhh!

Nipples are not reserved for women as erogenous zones; they are highly sensitive for men as well. Mitsuru pinched lightly at Shinobu’s right nub, then began rolling it around between his fingertips. With his free hand, he fondled the tip of Shinobu’s erection, running an experimental thumb over its satiny softness. Not to be outdone, Mitsuru’s mouth found its own captive, lapping at the slight dip of Shinobu’s navel.

The silver-haired boy trembled violently, face still covered by the pillow.

Tiring of the navel and deciding his hand wanted to be elsewhere, Mitsuru’s mouth transferred its attentions to the abandoned head, suckling fiercely, while the wayward hand moved lower, caressing the twin globes encased in velvet skin. The other hand moved to tweak at Shinobu’s left nipple, more roughly this time, to keep in synch with the ferocity occurring below.

Oh…my…god! More!

Shinobu’s shame disappeared under the onslaught of carnal desire. He threw off the pillow, gasping, and grabbed at Mitsuru’s head, yanking at the fine, golden hair in mute plea and urging the boy to take him in more deeply.

Mitsuru absently batted Shinobu’s hands away then, realizing their current position was causing a crick in his neck, he gripped the boy’s thighs with both hands. Tugging forcefully, Mitsuru pulled him over and across so that Shinobu’s torso was perpendicular to the bed, his legs hanging over the edge and laying on either side of the blonde’s head. He got rid of the boxers pooling around Shinobu’s right ankle with an impatient toss. Throughout this entire maneuver, Mitsuru’s mouth had not let go of Shinobu’s throbbing shaft.

Now more easily accessible, Mitsuru was finally able to give the erection the attention it deserved. Grasping it by the base and tilting it forward, away from Shinobu’s stomach, Mitsuru enveloped the whole of it in his mouth. He sat up on his knees for better leverage, loosening the back of his throat instinctively as he drew Shinobu even deeper into him. Breathing through his nose, Mitsuru kept the shaft embedded in his throat while he laved at it with a rabid tongue.

Shinobu clutched at rumpled sheets and bucked wildly.

Mitsuru nearly gagged and slapped at the boy’s flank in reproof. Then he pushed Shinobu back down on the mattress, both hands pressed against his pelvis, and kept him mercilessly pinned. As an added punishment, Mitsuru let his lips go slack and his teeth, previously sheathed, grazed the delicate skin of the shaft.

Shinobu hissed loudly, dizzy with pleasure and pain, and bucked again.

Having reached the head at this point, and annoyed that his captive had not learned from the first lesson, Mitsuru bit down firmly, right under the ridge that encircled the tip. At the same time, he reached under him and pulled sharply at the sack.

Shinobu was nothing if not astute. He subsided in both motion and sound after this definite reprimand. Only the uncontrolled shaking of his thighs betrayed his inner turmoil. He wanted so much to participate in the coupling but apparently Mitsuru had other plans. This commanding, demanding nighttime lover was the complete antithesis of his cheery, lackadaisical daytime friend. Shinobu’s stomach roiled in sheer excitement, unbelievably aroused.

Mitsuru was long past aroused. The throbbing between his legs begged for release and, after countless, secret conversations with Fujikake, he knew exactly how to assuage his passion.

He stood up suddenly, slapping Shinobu lightly on the thigh as a warning. Aware of what was expected of him now, Shinobu lay still and silent, simply devouring Mitsuru with hot, hungry eyes as the blonde quickly discarded his own boxers. His erection slapped against his stomach, freed from its cotton prison. Standing over Shinobu in the moonlight, the shadows emphasizing every ripple of his muscled abs, Mitsuru was utterly oblivious to anything else but what was under his mattress.

Before Shinobu’s curiousity could break through the wall of sizzling lust, Mitsuru ceased his rummaging and knelt back down, tube in hand. He captured Shinobu’s gaze, both boys now accustomed to the dark that Shinobu was able to verify the desire – as strong as his own – reflected in his roommate’s eyes.

His breath quickened as he watched Mitsuru deliberately open the tube and smear a liberal amount of lubricant on his engorged erection. Shinobu may have been a virgin, but he wasn’t stupid. A jab of apprehension shot through him as he realized what his lover was planning to do.

But he’d been pleasured already and it was only fair that Mitsuru be satisfied as well. So it was with a willing heart that Shinobu allowed the blonde to lift him from the bed and position him, stomach down, on top of the chabudai.

Mitsuru emptied the remaining contents of the tube in that enticing crevice, taking a finger and distributing the gel evenly. Then, unable to resist any longer, he put a hand on either cheek of Shinobu’s rump and spread them open. His lubricated shaft glistened briefly in the moonlight before it disappeared deep into his lover in one strong thrust.

Shinobu could not prevent the moan that drove itself from his throat. It hurt; shooting, stabbing, fiery pain that caused tears to spring up in his shocked eyes. But then, Mitsuru pulled out and he felt an overwhelming sense of loss and emptiness.

“Shin…”

It was the first word spoken since they’d begun, and it sounded so much like his Mitsu – the maddening, tempting, beautiful, boyish Mitsu and not the dark lover – that Shinobu wept again, only this time with joy.

“Hai.”

Shinobu’s response was decisive, trusting. He wanted this completely now, without doubt or reservation. He wanted Mitsuru to make him his.

And so, gently at first but inevitably rising to a furious crescendo of thrust and push, of pressure and friction, of electricity and dynamite, they climaxed instantaneously, Mitsuru spending deep inside and Shinobu gracing the chabudai with his release, compliments of the expert manipulation of his lover’s lubricant-slick hand.

Afterwards, the two lay in each other’s arms, on the floor in the room where they’d first met and become roommates. Shinobu’s legs entangled Mitsuru’s as they spooned in the room where they’d lived and become best friends. Mitsuru kissed the back of Shinobu’s neck in awe and contentment as the other snuggled closer in his embrace in the room where they’d defied reason and finally become lovers.

The moon sighed in voyeuristic pleasure then surrendered its station to a sleepy sun, gossiping shamelessly on his way out.


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