Kneel Before This Love: Act 5

In the end, Fuyuki wrapped up his first case of alleged assault quite handily. All the witnesses had provided their testimonies, and it had probably helped that the other party had been the ones at fault in the first place. He’d left the boys with a warning that their games weren’t going to fly in the real world, and closed the case with all charges against the arrested gang member dropped. The freed man had wept with gratitude; apparently his wife was with child, and very close to her due date.

This didn’t mean that Fuyuki was excited to be a gang lawyer now.

But Dad’s still recuperating.…

Sokabe was driving him to his father’s office after a brief stop at the hospital to finally check in on him again. Wherever this ended up leading, Fuyuki was already resolved to see it through. For now, until his father was well enough to return, he would serve as gang lawyer in his stead—even if that meant putting his own career as a lawyer in jeopardy. Seeing the tears in that gang member’s eyes had made his mind up for him. It was such an obvious thing, and yet somehow he’d almost forgotten: gangsters were still human beings, leading their lives just like anybody else. Was that why his father worked as a gang lawyer? Not to cover up their crimes, but to protect their day-to-day security? He was currently laid up in the hospital, but as soon as the man’s condition improved Fuyuki wanted to sit down with him and have a nice long chat about it.

Of course, he may have committed himself to acting as gang lawyer, but that didn’t change the fact that he had zero experience. Fortunately the firm had two staff members looking after the office in his father’s absence, and his father may have been bedridden but his mind was still as sharp as ever. Fuyuki wasn’t getting started on this alone.

The car rolled to a stop outside of his father’s office, and Sokabe climbed out from behind the wheel.

“You look cheerful,” he remarked as he held the rear door open for him.

“I decided to get over it,” Fuyuki replied, flashing a nonchalant smile. He had no idea what was going to happen with him and Mitora, but at this point, maybe it was time to just let the chips fall where they may. Before coming here, he had forced Mitora to allow him to return home. He was leaving Mitora’s side, and hopefully that meant he could buy himself some time to think. He felt like it was time to give everything a fresh start.

My body couldn’t have taken much more of that anyway if I’d had to stay.

Once he had decided to fill in as gang lawyer for his father, Mitora had been unexpectedly willing to let him go back home. Perhaps he had felt reassured now that Fuyuki’s ties to him had become permanent. One thing he hadn’t budged on, however, was an escort to and from the office, just in case of any trouble. Fuyuki’s father had received the same, so Fuyuki had agreed to go along with it; after all, he had as much interest in exposing himself to danger as Mitora did.

As he was staring up at his father’s office he suddenly felt the prickle of somebody’s gaze watching him, and he turned around to see Sokabe studying him with narrowed eyes.

“Yes…?” Fuyuki prompted, cocking his head.

“You look beautiful,” said Sokabe, without a hint of embarrassment.

Hearing it from a no-nonsense person like him is so…

Fuyuki sighed. Who knew there were so many compliments in the world that could leave him floundering?

The two staff members had apparently indeed been feeling uneasy working at a law firm without a lawyer, because when their employer’s son popped up at the door with an announcement that he was taking over for his father, they welcomed him with open arms. They were both former gangsters who had, at least outwardly, cut all official ties to their gang. They had studied law themselves, and it seemed they had been serving as his father’s assistants.

“It’s a real godsend having you here, sir,” said the older man, Kuriki.

“We were really worried, not having anybody here,” sighed the other, Shoukawa, a man still in his twenties. “If something happens, the two of us alone wouldn’t be able to help.”

“I still have a lot to learn, but I’m looking forward to working with both of you,” Fuyuki said, giving them a respectful bow. Forty-three-year-old Kuriki had a bachelor’s degree, and Shoukawa had received his master’s in a legal field. They said a lot of gangsters were well-educated these days, but Fuyuki still found himself wondering what the hell kind of karma had gotten men like them mixed up in gang business.

He had just settled on enlisting Kuriki and Shoukawa’s help in scouring the old case records when a visitor opened the door. The man who walked in was the head of the Jinno family, Youhei Jinno.

“Long time no see, huh, Fuyuki.”

“It really has. Haven’t seen you in three years, Youhei.” Fuyuki rose from his desk to greet him, eyes flicking to the gangster playing bodyguard close at Youhei’s back. Youhei was no longer in a position to go out and about freely like he had as a boy, Fuyuki supposed. He was an old friend like Mitora, though Fuyuki hadn’t seen him since the funeral of Mitora’s father.

“You did good work for one of my men.”

“I’m just covering for Dad,” Fuyuki said, and hastened to warn him, “I know the Jinno family has a reputation for violence and picking fights, and I’ll tell you right now, don’t count on me to call a spade anything other than a spade.”

“I see you’re still as direct as ever, Fuyuki.” The corner of Youhei’s lip quirked up wryly. Compared to Mitora, he came across as quite the cerebral type with his law school degree and administrative scrivener’s license, and yet here he was, leading the most violent gang affiliated with the Komine-kai.

People really are unknowable.

“So why the change? What happened to never sticking your nose into gangster business?” Youhei probed, and Fuyuki had no choice but to laugh it off.

“A certain idiot dragged me off the straight and narrow,” he said in a bitter tone, and Youhei’s shoulders shook with silent laughter.

“I see. So he finally resorted to force, did he? Oh?” Youhei made a little show of leaning in to peer at the back of his neck. “Quite some hickeys you’ve got here. You’re gonna make your old man cry.”

“I never said anything about me and him being like that!”

He and Mitora were exactly like that, but he’d be damned if he admitted it. He kept his expression carefully impassive as he batted Youhei’s hands away.

But seriously, were Mitora’s feelings that blatantly obvious?…

Between the fact that nobody seemed to be put off in the slightest talking about two men having or not having sex, and the fact that every single other person on the planet had picked up on Mitora’s feelings before him, Fuyuki didn’t even know where to start with all this anymore.

“Now there’s what I love to see. Still the same old fighter, and you still play everything cool. Mitora’s always been the only one who brings out your true colors. Though I can’t say that poker face of yours doesn’t get me going, too.” Youhei was grinning gleefully.

“No one’s paying me to listen to your jokes. Why are you here?” Fuyuki looked at him with the pomp of a very busy man, and Youhei ducked back.

“You’re so cold! I just stopped by to pay my respects, as your old friend. And, since you took care of one of mine, I brought a little token of my gratitude.… A man’s got to take responsibility, right, Mr. Lawyer?” Youhei glanced over his shoulder and nodded his underling forward, and a moment later a decently heavy envelope was deposited in Fuyuki’s hands.

“Youhei…”

“I would be grateful for your continued support,” he said with crisp dignity, and he gave Fuyuki a bow.

Youhei’s always been the type of guy who knows when to dot his i’s and cross his t’s, hasn’t he.

The man made sure to do what needed to be done; that part of him hadn’t changed a bit. And his schedule was apparently pretty packed, because as soon as he’d delivered the envelope he was back out the door. Fuyuki watched him go, lost in thought. He was about to be very busy himself, and with work that was nothing like what he’d done before, totally outside his area of expertise. He should probably go around and introduce himself to all the police officers that his father had been developing relationships with. Gangsters and police being in bed together was old, old news, but lawyers and police did a bit of their own mutual back scratching, too.

Actually, didn’t that guy I knew in college end up becoming a police official?…

Maybe he should invest some time in building a few new bridges of his own, and not rely purely on his father’s connections… but the idea had barely occurred to him before he hastily shook his head.

Whoa, whoa!

He was just filling in, nothing more; just holding down the fort until his father had recovered. There was no reason he had to do so much proactive legwork for his new clients. He’d almost lost sight of the original purpose of all this.

Still, as long as he’d agreed to take on these duties, he had a mountain of things to learn. Fuyuki gave himself a mental shake and buckled down to study the case files.

Thus, Fuyuki found himself with quite a lot to do after being freed from Mitora’s clutches. Mitora must have been busy, too; almost a week had gone by without any sort of summons from him. Fuyuki was scrambling to live up to his new title of gang lawyer, poring over stacks and stacks of documents in the office alongside his staff and occasionally reaching out to borrow his father’s wisdom. He probably hadn’t studied this much since he’d taken the bar exam. Every day was grueling, but also fulfilling in a way that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

It was after midnight by the time he finally arrived back home, and he was tugging his necktie loose when he noticed his cell phone ringing.

Who could that be?

He answered the call, and the voice that purred in his ear gave him a pang of nostalgia.

“You holdin’ up over there, Fuyuki?”

He was hearing Mitora’s voice for the first time in a week. Fuyuki sighed. “I was, until I heard your voice again.”

The truth was, the second he’d heard the man speak, his gut reaction had been pure delight. Despite himself and all his intentions, he’d been starving for the sound of that impudent voice. He masked his feelings with more vitriol, “Nobody in their right mind calls someone this late.”

“What’s the big deal? You were up, weren’t you?” Mitora was chuckling over the line. Listening to what other people had to say had never been his forte. “So what were you doin’?”

“I just got back home from work.”

“You eat?”

“I had a small dinner at the office.”

“Ah, c’mon, you’re already so thin… you gotta eat proper.”

“I eat enough to not starve to death.”

“If you were here I’d feed you three meals a day whether you liked it or not.” Mitora paused before adding quietly, “What if you lived with me?”

“Not a chance,” Fuyuki refused point-blank, going back to undoing his stifling tie.

“Always gotta play tough, don’t you? This is how you treat your man after he spent a whole fuckin’ week showin’ you heaven?”

“It’s more than you deserve, asshole! Those were the worst seven days of my life!”

Why was he hurling insults into the phone instead of just hanging up? Did he want to keep hearing Mitora’s voice?

No, absolutely not! Why would I ever want to… to…

As if he would ever long for the sound of Mitora’s voice! The man was a scumbag that defied description. This must be some kind of mistake.

Just hang up on him, right now! Do it, hang up!

But he couldn’t find a good enough excuse to convince himself, and his fingers refused to follow the order.

He couldn’t tell if Mitora had detected his inner conflict, but the man lowered his voice an octave when he said, “What’re you doin’ at night anyway now that I ain’t around?”

“At night…?” Mitora’s crude question left him fumbling for a response.

“I’m thinkin’ it’s about time your body’s started cryin’ for me. Or has your hand been good enough?”

“I’m hanging up,” Fuyuki growled, pitching his voice low to match Mitora’s.

“Drop the act. You were gettin’ it good from me every single day, and I’m thinkin’ now you can’t forget about it. C’mon, you can tell me.”

“I forgot it the second I got back home!” he snapped with irrational anger, even as he felt his cheeks flush hotly.

Maybe he did long for Mitora. Maybe Fuyuki had already lost the moment he’d been unable to bring himself to hang up the phone—but it would be a cold day in hell before he ever admitted it.

Besides, it’s not Mitora I miss, it’s Mitora’s body.…

He was a man in his late twenties; he wouldn’t deny that he had a sex drive. And as much as it killed him to acknowledge it, the fact was that Mitora’s body had given him what he needed.

“Well I think about you every day.”

Mitora’s husky whisper seeped like honey into his ear, bringing a lump of emotion into Fuyuki’s throat. “Nobody asked.”

“Your body’s a goddamn dream. Still tight as a virgin every fuckin’ time, but once I get inside you, you squeeze all around me like a glove. I’ll never get enough of that.”

“Stop!”

Nothing could be more embarrassing than hearing a play-by-play of himself getting fucked. He couldn’t stop the rush of memories at Mitora’s words: Mitora buried deep inside him, pounding up into him from below; the scalding heat of Mitora spilling his seed, and then the vulgar squelch of his thick cock churning it as he fucked him again, making Fuyuki’s ears burn; the pleasure that nearly drove him out of his mind.

His hips made an aborted little thrust.

Shit!…

Fuyuki bit down on his lip. His body was kindling for Mitora’s spark, and heat stirred inside him, wanton and unstoppable. After a week of constant ravishment, he needed no more than a word, a breath, from the other man, to bring back every memory of his body. The fever, the passion that Mitora had poured deep inside of him, and even the love he had slammed down like a hammer… it had all been so much, too much for Fuyuki to take it all.

“C’mon, baby, lemme hear you.” Mitora made no attempt to disguise the lust in his voice. “Wanna hear you sing for me again like you did in my bed.”

No goddamn way!

Fuyuki was afraid of what kinds of sounds would escape him if he opened his mouth, so he protested by keeping it firmly shut. But Mitora’s next words rumbling in his ear threatened to dismantle his sanity.

“From now on, your right hand is my hand. Think, remember how I always give it to you.”

Fuyuki was groaning low in his throat, trying to swallow the sudden flood of saliva. He couldn’t stop himself from remembering. He’d tried to forget, but he never could. Not after Mitora had fucked him over and over, hard enough to brand his flesh with the memory. The fierce shame and ecstasy of that moment Mitora had forced Fuyuki’s pleasure out of him were still seared into his skin. Fuyuki felt his cock responding, and he closed his eyes.

Shit. I can’t keep listening to him, or I’ll… give in.

“You’re such a fuckin’ slut for it, bet you’re already hard.”

Mitora called him out with the blunt, naked truth, and Fuyuki couldn’t even gather enough wits to sass him back. He was hard. He knew the pathetic state of his own body better than anyone.

His knees buckled, and he fell back onto the bed.

“You don’t gotta hold back. C’mon, Fuyuki.” Mitora took advantage of Fuyuki’s silence to coax him wickedly. Maybe he already knew exactly what state Fuyuki’s body was in. After all, they’d spent a week joining their bodies deeper and harder than anyone else ever had.

“Lemme hear those moans, the real sweet ones.…”

Fuyuki heaved a breath, his shoulders rising and falling. He heard Mitora click his tongue loudly into the phone, and he could easily picture him, licking his lips like a wild animal. Mitora’s gaze had always been piercing, making Fuyuki tremble before him. Even the terror of being devoured was pleasure when the predator was Mitora.

His thick fingers…

Fuyuki quietly pulled down the zipper of his pants, surprised by how loud the sound seemed in his room. Had it been loud enough to hear over the phone? But Mitora said nothing about it.

“Want me to tell you where you like it?” Mitora chuckled darkly, unbothered by Fuyuki’s lack of response. “Let’s go from the top. The backs of your ears, where they connect to your head. When I lick there with the tip of my tongue, you shiver so nice for me.”

Fuyuki let out a little gasp. He almost felt the ghost of a hot, rough tongue swipe along the back of his ear.

“Next, your mouth. You really do love kissing, don’t you? You like it soft, like what little girls think kissing is.”

The innocent kind of kiss, just the slightest brush of lips before pulling away. Fuyuki loved that kind of kiss from Mitora when he was lying boneless in his arms after being ravaged.

“And then, I nip at your collarbone. Always made sure I left my mark right in the dip. When you start cryin’ like you’re about to come and I suck right there, you always ask me for more. You know that?”

He loved the pinprick of Mitora’s sharp canines. Mitora sucked his skin so deliciously hard that in those moments he couldn’t have cared less about hickeys.

“And we got your nipples below that. Both of ‘em nice and pink and hard for me, like they can’t fuckin’ wait for a little abuse. You like it when I use my nails, too. Sometimes you stick your chest out into my face like you’re beggin’ for it. And you love it when I suck ‘em and don’t stop til they’re all red and swollen.”

The pressure of Mitora’s canines digging into his nipples, like he was going to crunch them between his teeth, was shockingly arousing. It was enough to make him frustrated that Mitora only had one mouth; he wanted him to bite both at once. Lips and teeth on his nipples were even better than fingers.

His imaginary Mitora was all over him, consuming him, and Fuyuki felt his restraint slipping away. He tilted his head to the side to sandwich his phone against his shoulder, and then his right hand began to play with his chest.

“Ah!”

His nipples were already hard enough to poke through his shirt. Fuyuki cried out involuntarily, but Mitora didn’t tease him. He just continued his steady narration of Fuyuki’s weak spots.

“You love me licking your belly button too, love it when I push my tongue inside. And…”

“Oh… mm…”

Fuyuki had been tugging and twisting his nipples through his shirt, but it wasn’t enough anymore.

I can’t…

It wasn’t even close to enough. His own fingers could never give him what he needed. He shoved his hand into his unbuttoned dress shirt to at least give himself some direct stimulation. His nipples jutted out through the cloth, and when he pinched them it made him exhale hard through his nose. He couldn’t even care anymore that the man on the phone could hear the lewd noises he was making.

“But the thing that really gets you goin’, fuckin’ horndog, that’s your cock. You look blissed out enough to die when I play with it. Getting jacked, licked, sucked, you love it all. Don’t you, Fuyuki?…”

He did love it. Maybe Mitora was right, maybe he was a horndog and a slut. Whenever Mitora had his way with him, his head would go blank with pleasure until he couldn’t bear it anymore.

“Ah!” With one hand still fondling his chest, Fuyuki finally took his cock out of his briefs. He wrapped his free hand around the base and started to pump himself frantically. He was sprawled out on the bed, knees up and legs spread, desperately pleasuring himself as he tried to remember the order of Mitora’s foreplay.

“Is it good?”

“Hngh—yes, oh… oh…!”

“Louder baby, come on!”

“Yes—oh God, yes, ah, I can’t…!”

Mitora was listening to his wanton cries. The man may not be looking at him, but Fuyuki knew he must be picturing every shameful twitch of his body in vivid detail—just the same way Fuyuki was picturing Mitora’s body right now, and burning for him.

“Gonna come…!” he blurted, words he’d never quite been able to say before when Mitora had been there in person. He could feel Mitora melting him down, body and soul. Hot semen spurted over his hand as he milked himself through his orgasm.

“Ohhh…” He left his hand curled around his cock, his shaft still trembling with aftershocks. He was soft now, but a few last dribbles were spilling out. “Mi… tora…” he called for him hoarsely.

He’d gotten himself off, but once his body got riled up like this it would take more than a little masturbation to satisfy him. A throbbing ache started deep in his gut, and his hole clenched uselessly around the absence of Mitora’s cock.

“Fuck, baby, your voice is killin’ me.” Mitora was hoarse too. Fuyuki thought he sounded aroused. “Just hearin’ you, it ain’t enough. Tch,” his tongue clicked, and then his tone turned firm. “I’m comin’ to get you. Just wait for me.”

The words “don’t come” never left Fuyuki’s mouth. All he wanted, all he could think about, was for Mitora to take him.

Flooring the car would have gotten them from Fuyuki’s parents’ house back to the Komine-kai mansion in under fifteen minutes, but that must have been too long for Mitora because he hauled Fuyuki into a nearby hotel instead. Once inside, he did nothing but sink himself into Fuyuki in every way that he could.

“Agh—I can’t… m’gonna die…!” Fuyuki was on his hands and knees on the bed, shuddering through yet another numberless orgasm.

“Not yet…!” Mitora’s voice was a perfectly bestial snarl. “Been a fuckin’ week.… I got a lot of time to make up for!”

“Ah!” The man’s thick cock slammed back in to the hilt, and Fuyuki’s jaw shook with the impact. “Ah, again…?!”

Mitora was drilling him open so deep that his lust was simmering back to life. His limp cock began to stiffen again, leaving dark patches where the head brushed against the sheets. Having a partner with insatiable hunger was wearing out the brakes on Fuyuki’s as well.

Their bodies had been doing the talking since the second Mitora had arrived outside Fuyuki’s house. Wary of waking his sleeping family, Fuyuki had made an estimate of Mitora’s travel time and slipped out a minute ahead to wait by the front door, and as soon as Mitora had appeared he had swept him up into his arms, crushing him to his chest and kissing him. Even after Mitora had dragged him into the car the man’s hands had been everywhere, groping and fondling his sensitive body. Arousal had already been tingling under his skin, and the car ride of heavy petting meant that by the time Mitora had laid him out on this bed, Fuyuki’s body had been ripe for the picking.

“Don’t you mean ‘more?’ Little slut. Never thought you’d be gagging for it like this. Didn’t you already come once just now on the phone?”

“Hngh…” Mitora’s fingers wrapped around his erection and Fuyuki twitched and jerked beneath him.

“You didn’t finger yourself before? You’re so tight.” Mitora had plunged his cock in without loosening him first, and he pounded into him as he toyed with Fuyuki in the palm of his hand. “You’re my woman, and my woman comes from gettin’ fucked.” Fuyuki could hear the leer in Mitora’s chuckle. “I’ll show you.”

“Show me…?”

Suddenly Mitora pulled out, taking all the searing heat and bulging pressure with him, and Fuyuki was bewildered. He had no idea how the man could exert so much control in the state he was in. Mitora lay back comfortably on the king-sized bed and pulled Fuyuki on top of him, facing away, which put the imposing jut of Mitora’s straining cock directly in his line of sight. The length and girth of it took his breath away. Was it really this massive thing splitting him open that made him writhe in pleasure? It was his own body and still he could hardly believe it. A sheen of milky liquid gleamed all along Mitora’s shaft, now slick from the tip down to his balls from plowing Fuyuki, and slightly cloudy spurts of pre-cum welled up from the head like an endless fountain. Fuyuki closed his eyes, the virility of it too much too close.

But Mitora plucked his hands away from their grip on the sheets and guided them behind him to his own ass. Mitora’s semen had left sticky smears across his skin, and even now he felt the excess inside him leaking out to trickle down his thighs. And Mitora had a front row seat to all of it. It was all helplessly bared before his slitted gaze: his own come filling Fuyuki’s hole and streaking his cheeks, and the guilty swell of Fuyuki’s cock, never limp for very long no matter how many orgasms Mitora tore out of him. Just imagining it made him shiver.

“Finger yourself, Fuyuki,” Mitora ordered him with the arrogance of a true dictator. “Feel what it’s like inside you.”

“Wha…!”

Finger his own ass, right in front of Mitora? He stuttered into silence. If he touched himself there now, he knew he wouldn’t stop pumping his fingers until the semen filling his channel foamed. Every thrust would bring more of the white fluid oozing out of his greedy hole, to Mitora’s certain delight. And on top of it all, he knew it still wouldn’t be enough. Not fingers, he needed something bigger—and the tyrant in his bed would hound and bully him into submission until he cast all shame aside and cried for it. The thought alone fanned his pleasure to a sweltering blaze. When had he become so shameless?

I can’t believe it.…

Even his own internal monologue as he railed at himself was nothing but more fuel on the fire.

“Oh… ohhh!”

Conscious of Mitora’s gaze prickling at his back, Fuyuki slipped two fingers inside. He was open enough to take them without any resistance, and the soft warmth of his own body squeezed around them. But they weren’t thick enough, weren’t long enough to reach where he needed, and his inner walls clenched in frustration.

“Uh… mmgh…”

The thing he wanted was bobbing hard and ready right in front of him. He stared at it intently, unable to look away. That was what he wanted. Fingers couldn’t even begin to compare.

So thick…

“Mm… mmgh…”

Fuyuki stuck out his tongue and flicked it in little licks along Mitora’s length. The man’s cock was engorged, dark veins even popping out from the skin. There shouldn’t have been anything beautiful about it at all, and yet in that moment, it was unbearably lovely to Fuyuki.

I want it.…

His eyes were wet with lust and longing as he worked the fingers inside of him faster. He couldn’t quite get his tongue curled around it, only grazing it in tickling swipes. The taste of him soaked into the tip of Fuyuki’s tongue like gasoline to a flame.

“I want it, Mitora…!” Finally, he pleaded with Mitora aloud.

“Want what?”

Mitora himself had been rutting like a ravenous animal up until a second ago, but while Fuyuki was quivering with desire, Mitora’s voice was cool enough to be cold.

“I want… you.… Please, put it in!” If begging was what it took to get it, he’d beg all night long. Tears of need sprang to his eyes as he groaned, “Give it to me!”

He craved it so, so badly. He couldn’t wait for Mitora to shove his cock inside him.

“Bein’ honest with me for once, baby?” Mitora pounced up off the bed and reversed their positions, forcing Fuyuki down onto the sheets beneath him. “Beg me to fuck you.”

Fuyuki looked up at Mitora’s feral expression with eyes glazed in heat. His chapped lips trembled several times before he whispered, “Fuck me…!”

If that was what he had to say to be satisfied, he’d say it a thousand times. His arms rose to wrap around Mitora’s broad back as he spoke the words, and then Mitora finally sank back inside of him. Scorching pleasure crackled through him, slamming his heart into his throat, and he was well beyond even thinking about keeping count of his orgasms as he hurtled over the edge one more time.

Fuyuki’s legs felt unsurprisingly like jelly when he awoke, and he sat in a lump on the bed with the sheets still wrapped snugly around him.

“What’re you thinkin’?”

Mitora, on the other hand, who prided himself on his inexhaustible stamina, was already back to his usual self and looking refreshed after his shower.

Is he a mutant…?

The man might fuck him to death one day, and Fuyuki didn’t really mean that as a joke.

“Thinking? About what?” he more rasped than said, his voice hoarse enough to be a stranger’s. His throat was raw from a long night of screaming.

“You wanna go home, or stay here tonight?”

“I do have work tomorrow…” But it was almost dawn. Coming and going at this hour would only bother his family. “I’ll stay.”

“Yeah? Maybe I’ll stay too then.”

“What about your driver?”

“Probably napping.”

It was the window between night and morning when it was hard to say if it would be better to let the driver finish his nap in the car, or wake him and send him home to get some proper rest.

“Fuyuki, move in with me. We can tell your old man it’s easier that way, better for work and security, nobody’ll question it.” Mitora licked the sweat off Fuyuki’s brow as he spoke.

“Forget it.” Fuyuki massaged his throat. “You think I could take this every night?”

“We only fuck like this ‘cause we don’t see each other.”

“Yeah, right.”

Fuyuki wheezed through a little coughing fit. The problem was Mitora’s limitless endurance, anyway; the man could easily repeat tonight’s performance several nights in a row.

Until I get an absolute guarantee that won’t happen, no goddamn way!

No, in the first place even the idea of living together with Mitora of all people was unthinkable… or it should have been. But at some point he’d started embracing Mitora’s presence at his side.

I’m insane.…

How had things turned out like this? Fuyuki’s shoulders slumped.

I fucking—I just—!

Hate him, but he couldn’t say it, and that was why he had already lost. He just wanted to curl up into an exhausted ball on the bed.

“Sleep next to me, it’s been too fuckin’ long.”

Mitora’s arm hooked around his shoulder, and Fuyuki shook his head like a sulking child.

“It was only a week, idiot.”

But it really did feel like it had been ages, and he was made painfully aware of just how fiercely he’d been missing Mitora. That night he slept soundly in his arms, his body utterly spent. As he was nodding off, he even felt carefree enough to think, maybe this wasn’t so bad once in a while.

But just as everything was starting to look like it was settling down, a tidal wave came crashing down on top of their heads.