Chapter 2: in which Mitsuru and Shinobu assess their relationship
~Sunday morning~
Mitsuru felt a light touch on his shoulder and turned over in his bunk. The predawn light filtered through the window and he saw clearly the shadowed form that was Shinobu. In the other boy’s eyes was determination and purpose and…something more?
“Shin? What’s wrong? You sick?” Mitsuru braced himself on his elbow and peered at his friend.
Shinobu didn’t say a word. Instead, he heaved himself up on the top bunk, pulled up the sheets and shoved Mitsuru over with his left hip. The bunk was so narrow that Mitsuru had no choice but to scoot over until he was lying on his right side, back against the wall, and facing his friend.
“Shin?” he asked again.
“Don’t you want to finish what you started?” Shinobu asked softly.
Before Mitsuru could make sense of that comment, Shinobu raised his hand and tentatively cupped the other boy’s cheek. With his thumb, Shinobu caressed the soft skin slowly, making Mitsuru shudder at the unfamiliar sensation. He closed his eyes and leaned into Shinobu’s hand. He had imagined this for so long and now reality was providing him raw data. Reality was infinitely better. The touch, innocent though it seemed, sent spikes of desire through Mitsuru and he knew that he wanted more. He sighed and gladly admitted defeat.
That sigh was all the invitation Shinobu needed. He stopped his stroking of the upturned cheek and proceeded toward more interesting, more intimate parts. With the same hand, Shinobu traced a path from Mitsuru’s face, along the side of his neck, paused briefly in the hollow of his throat. Mitsuru’s Adam’s apple bobbed involuntarily and Shinobu chuckled before continuing on. His hand played with Mitsuru’s collar bone for a moment before continuing down to the boy’s chest. There, the hand was stymied by pajama buttons and Shinobu tweaked at them impatiently.
Mitsuru reached to help but the buttons were already undone when he got there. Shinobu gently set the other boy’s hand aside, placing it back on Mitsuru’s hip. This first time, Shinobu wanted no distractions.
On the hand went, this time slipping under the unbuttoned pajama top and flicking lightly at the nub it found. With a forefinger, Shinobu traced a languid circle around the nipple, causing it to harden and Mitsuru to hiss violently.
“Shin, I don’t…”
Whatever Mitsuru was about to say was soon forgotten as Shinobu’s relentless hand left his chest and wandered down his flat, muscled stomach and under the waistband of his pajama bottoms.
“Oooh,” Mitsuru breathed as Shinobu’s hands brushed against the sensitive head of his hot, aching length.
“Please…”
“Please, what?”
“I…I…” With a wordless gasp, Mitsuru arched his back as Shinobu firmly grasped his shaft and squeezed. Mitsuru felt all sensation recede from his entire body and center on the hand that was now pumping his cock with slow, masterful strokes. It felt like…like…
ahhhh! The hand was increasing its pace, making Mitsuru curl his toes and gasp, dizzy with pleasure. Mitsuru bucked against the hand clumsily, not knowing exactly what to do but following his body’s instinctive reactions eagerly.
“Shin…Shin…I…I…ai shi…aaaaah!”
Mitsuru awoke with a gasp. His body was hot and aching and shivery with sweat. Reaching down, he realized what had finished in his dream was still in need of attention in the here and now. Flipping over on his stomach and muffling his face into his pillow, Mitsuru slid back and forth on his bed until he spent in shuddering relief. Then, because he felt his head about to explode from lack of oxygen, he raised himself up onto his elbows, gasping softly, and took stock of the situation.
Another dream. It had been so vivid, so real. So real, in fact, that he blushed to think of Shinobu in the bunk beneath him, wondering if the other boy had experienced it as he had.
Idiot! He berated himself. Of course, Shinobu hadn’t felt anything. Shinobu didn’t even know Mitsuru entertained those thoughts, much less be prone to lascivious dreams of his own. My subconscious is just looking for relief from all the tension I’ve been feeling. Things did not go according to plan last night. They went decidedly one hundred and eighty degrees away from the plan. And if I’m not careful, things could get downright ugly and dangerous tonight.
Thinking about his adventures of the previous night was effective in banishing any residual lewd thoughts from Mitsuru’s mind. The men were now out for his blood and he had a sneaking suspicion they would have guns. Guns! Listen to me! I am so out of my league here! Maybe it is time to ask Shinobu for help. But first, a bath.
****
“Shinobu?” Mitsuru was back after an indecently long time in the furo. His face was still flushed from the heat but he actually looked awake and aware for the first time in days.
“Hmmm?” That noncommittal tone was not encouraging.
“Shinobu, we need to talk.”
“About what?”
Shinobu had not turned from his position by the open window. This gave Mitsuru an opportunity to openly stare. Was it just last night that he had daringly touched that silvery hair, let each silky strand slide between the valleys of his fingers? And was it just last night that he had traced that spine, had clutched at that back…wait! I didn’t do that! I dreamed that! Or did I dream the hair too? And what about the kiss and his hand on my…Oooh-kay! Enough! I just got out of the bath; I don’t intend to return for quite some time. Not because of that, anyway. Now, focus. Approach objective with extreme care. Proceed with caution. Don’t feed the bears…
All manner of crazy, ridiculous notions filled Mitsuru’s brain as he walked toward his roommate. His guilt at keeping Shinobu in the dark, his many sleepless nights (due not only to his midnight excursions but to his dreams as well), yesterday morning’s fight, yesterday morning’s near revelations. All these things had beat at him mercilessly as he had soaked in the furo, and in the full light of day, Mitsuru felt awkward and unsure of how to handle his best friend.
But he had finally admitted to himself that he needed Shinobu’s expertise if he wanted to stay alive past midnight tonight and so the Shinobu-Mitsuru debacle of yesterday had to be set aside for now. Mitsuru promised himself to peruse that matter at great length after this other situation was resolved. And that’s gonna be all shits and giggles, Mitsuru laughed humorlessly, not looking forward to it all.
“We need to talk about me and the last few days and what I’ve been doing…” Mitsuru trailed off as he neared Shinobu and caught an acrid whiff of sulfur.
Without preamble, and knowing Mitsuru detested the habit, Shinobu had waited for his roommate to get closer before he struck the match and lit the cigarette.
“Listen, Mitsuru. I understand perfectly that you need your space. And maybe you haven’t been getting it, what with my being around all the time now that I’ve almost given up most of my student council responsibilities to the incoming president. I thought at first that you needed my help, which was why I may have come off as seeming to pry. But now that you’ve made me fully aware that I’m not needed, or wanted for that matter, I feel a tremendous burden lifted from my shoulders.”
Shinobu took a deep drag from his cigarette before continuing his monologue.
“You see, it was getting a bit tedious, having to bail you out of one scrape after another. I was beginning to despair of ever seeing you stand on your own, but now I see my fears are groundless. You’ve managed this little escapade of yours on your own, it seems. Congratulations. My work here is done.”
With that parting remark, Shinobu crushed the cigarette out on the windowsill and flicked the butt negligently out the window. Then he stalked past a gaping Mitsuru and left the room without a backward glance.
Mitsuru was aghast. When Shinobu had begun speaking, icy tendrils of apprehension had formed around his roommate’s heart. As his speech droned on coldly, the tendrils grew and became treacherous claws of realization that clutched convulsively, rendering Mitsuru speechless. Shinobu was not going to help him. Shinobu was not even going to hear him out. And Shinobu was heartlessly throwing back his words in his face. On my own. I wanted to do this on my own. And now I truly am. On. My. Own.
Instead of feeling strong and triumphant that he had finally squeezed a grudging concession of his abilities from Shinobu, Mitsuru felt nothing but panic.
Shit. Tonight, I’m going to die.
****
Shinobu leaned against the door to Room 211 and put his hand to his chest, as if to keep it from falling out. Because that’s what he was feeling right now – like his heart would explode from his rib cage and fall splat on the floor. He reviewed the incident of the past few minutes in his mind, brought up the image of Mitsuru’s face, and keened silently.
He looked so betrayed. And I did nothing to make him feel otherwise. Hell, I put that look there. I am such a despicable bastard! If Shinobu had strips of leather, he very likely would have begun self-flagellation.
Not only am I despicable, I’m a moron as well, Shinobu continued to lambast himself with almost masochistic glee. He was about to tell me what he’d been doing for the past five nights. And I walked away. Why the hell did I do that?
The question was rhetorical. Shinobu knew why he had walked away. It had nothing to do with that blasted secret; it had stopped being all about the secret. The secret could get up and and sing the Japanese national anthem as far as Shinobu was concerned. No, Shinobu had walked away from his best friend in his time of need because of yesterday’s fight. Because of the aftermath of yesterday’s fight, to be exact.
It was that damned thought! Shinobu clenched his fists. He had a sneaking suspicion he knew what it was all about and he wanted it to play out. Oh, yes he did! But not like this. Not when Mitsuru could confuse it with need. Shinobu had to leave his friend alone so his presence would not taint its natural development.
And if it doesn’t develop? What if I’m just projecting my own emotions, imagining something to be there because I want it to be there? What if Mitsuru does need me and gets into trouble because I’m too busy playing god to help him? What if he gets hurt?
At that point, Shinobu had pretty much resolved to offer his assistance and emotional development be damned when the door abruptly opened behind him. Leaping back and affecting a disinterested pose, Shinobu watched as Mitsuru exited their room.
“Tezuka.” Mitsuru nodded curtly and walked down the hall, down the stairs, out of the dorm…
Out of my life? Shinobu thought in despair. Oh, ye gods and little fishes, what have I done?