Chapter 4: New
Hikaru’s soft exhalation, that single syllable of startled understanding, hung in the humid air like a physical thing. Yoshiki flinched, his entire body locking tight as Hikaru’s gaze remained fixed on the undeniable evidence straining against his jeans. The awe in Hikaru’s expression, the beginnings of a tender, hopeful smile curving his lips – it was unbearable. Mortification, hotter and deeper than any arousal, flooded Yoshiki, turning his skin clammy. He tried to twist away, to hide the traitorous reaction, but Hikaru’s weight pinned his hips firmly to the thin mattress.
“It’s okay,” Hikaru murmured, his voice low and thick, cutting through Yoshiki’s internal storm. He shifted his gaze back up, meeting Yoshiki’s panicked eyes. The tenderness in Hikaru’s expression didn’t waver. “It’s just me.” He leaned down slowly, deliberately, his lips brushing Yoshiki’s jawline, feather-light, before moving to his ear. His warm breath ghosted over Yoshiki’s skin. One hand slid back under Yoshiki’s shirt, warm and grounding on his stomach, while the other moved with shocking directness to the button of his jeans. Yoshiki gasped, a strangled sound escaping his throat as the pressure released.
“I have to shower.” Yoshiki says quickly, and gently pushes HIKARU away. HIKARU watches him, wondering himself why the hell he was so set on the idea of actually giving his best friend oral sex. He got carried away.
The dorm room door clicked shut, sealing Yoshiki inside the sterile white silence of the bathroom. He braced his hands on the cold sink, his reflection a pale, haunted stranger in the mirror. The three moles on his cheek and the two on his neck stood out like dark imperfections, marks of a body that had betrayed him. How disgusting.
Steam began to fog the glass, blurring the edges of his self-loathing. He stripped off his clothes, the fabric smelling faintly of Hikaru’s soap and their shared sweat. The shower spray hit his skin, scalding and sharp, but he barely felt it. His hand moved down his stomach, rough and determined.
He gripped his erection, a shudder wracking his frame. He thought of Hikaru’s warm, insistent mouth, the feel of his hands under his shirt, the low moan that had vibrated against his own lips. His hips jerked forward into his own fist, the rhythm frantic and shameful. He pictured Hikaru’s awed expression, the tender smile that had made his chest ache.
Pleasure built, a tight, guilty coil in his gut. He bit his lip to stifle a sound, the taste of mint from their kiss ghosting his tongue. His release was swift and violent, a wave of blinding heat that left him trembling. He slumped against the slick tiles, the water beating down on his bowed head. How disgusting.