by Amy Tasukada
“Who is it?” Subaru mumbled.
Somehow Hayato managed to find his phone behind the photo of their mom. He answered, not even checking the caller ID.
“Hello?” Hayato kept his voice low.
“I’m calling to take care of your morning load.”
“What?”
“Your morning load.” Masuo’s voice finally clicked in Hayato’s head.
It was not okay to call someone before noon. If Masuo thought Hayato had been a jerk before—
Masuo continued. “I’m sure you only need to look down to know what I’m talking about.”
Who did Masuo think he was, giving Hayato orders? He pulled back the phone, ready to hang up, but then he spotted the tent in his briefs.
“My morning load,” Hayato repeated.
“Hangover slowed your thinking?” Masuo’s cheeky grin could be heard in his voice.
“Shut up.”
Hayato left the bed and locked himself in the bathroom. It was on the other side of the apartment, so Subaru probably wouldn’t hear, but Hayato turned on the faucet just in case.
“What are you wearing?” Masuo’s voice was low and husky, tickling Hayato’s ear.
He licked his lips. He hadn’t had a phone-sex session in ages. Though pink briefs with rainbow trim didn’t make for the most sensual role-play.
“You called right in the middle of me getting dressed,” Hayato said.
Masuo laughed. “That’s such a lie.”
“If you don’t want to be part of this fantasy, I can hang up and enjoy it on my own.”
“Are you a pants-first or shirt-first kind of guy?” Masuo changed his tune fast.
“I got the last button of my shirt done. I was about to pick what pants to wear.”
Hayato hummed and sat on the side of the tub. In such a tiny bathroom, if he angled just right, he could catch all of himself in the mirror. He wiggled to get a better view, his briefs riding up. Damn. Subaru might have the bulky muscles, but Hayato had some too. He was a yakuza, after all, and had to keep a workout routine.
He’d wasted his body during his years with Jiro. Hayato’s high school sex-ed class had had more variety than Jiro, and that had lasted two days.
Hayato hadn’t even really liked him anyway. He was a soggy, limp noodle at the bottom of the bowl, while Masuo already knew exactly what Hayato liked, and they weren’t even dating.
“You wearing underwear today or is your cock peeking out from the bottom of your shirt?” Masuo’s heavy breath sent Hayato’s imagination running.
“I’m working today, so I’ve got some on,” Hayato said.
“Hmm. What kind of fruit is it this time?”
“Not fruit this time, baby.” Okay, so not the sexiest, but Hayato was out of practice.
“What is it, then?”
“Eggplant.”
A small chuckle came from Masuo, and then Hayato joined. A peaceful sigh left his lips. He hadn’t felt so completely himself in ages.
“I got a whole orchard and farm, honey,” Hayato added.
“That’s ironic, since my boxers have peaches on them.”
Their conversation had turned into a morning at the farmer’s market.
Hayato rubbed himself through his briefs, keeping the mood. “Have you done this before?”
“Y-yes.”
“You’re such a bad liar. Let’s start over before we swap jam recipes. You still at home or did you get to the parlor?”
“I’m still at home.”
“Okay, I’m there too. I pushed you onto the bed. I can see the desire in your eyes. I lean on the bed and put my hand right over your crotch. I can feel you. You already want me.” Hayato’s hand hovered over his crotch. “Can you feel me?”
“Yeah.” Masuo’s words were wet and sultry.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to touch me.”
“Where?”
“My cock.” A sharp gasp came over the line. “Make me hard, Hayato.”
Good thing Masuo wasn’t shy, even if he was getting ahead of himself playing pretend. Hayato hadn’t touched him yet, so there should’ve been no gasp. A whimpering wine, sure. A Hayato, you’re so big, put it in me, all the better. But no gasp. Even if Masuo was too eager and had jumped ahead in the fantasy, he provided feedback. The worst phone sex was when the other person was silent as a trip to the library.
“That’s what I like to hear.” A little moan left the back of Hayato’s throat. “I’m unzipping your pants now. I already feel your heat on my hand. I reach inside and pull out your cock. Can you feel me touching you?”
Hayato set his cock free. Imagining his cock was Masuo’s admittedly bigger dick, Hayato lavished it with teasingly light touches. Masuo let out a string of breathy moans. Hayato closed his eyes and saw Masuo writhing with pleasure.
“I can feel you touching me,” Masuo said. “It feels so good.”
Hayato stared at his cock in the mirror and pretended it was Masuo’s. As Masuo’s heavy breaths echoed in his ear, a wave of heat flushed through Hayato’s body.
“You’re leaking at your tip.” Hayato’s thumb smeared the milky precum leaking out.
Masuo’s sweet moans carried off the less desirable feelings wrestling inside Hayato. The pain of January forgotten. The lingering longing for Jiro had been abandoned for Masuo’s sheer cries of pleasure and relief.
Hayato lifted himself a little higher, his toes curled, and ready for release.
“Are you close?” Hayato managed to get out.
“Yeah.”
“Then tell me when you come. I want to hear it.”
Masuo’s breathing hitched and got louder and more guttural. Hayato bit his lip, finding the delicate mix of frustration and ecstasy as he got himself so close to the edge of climax he could taste it. He could see Masuo under him, skin glistening underneath a layer of salty sweat. A few stray strands of his black hair sticking to his face. His mouth agape and moans spilling out like precum from his massive cock. The air scented with the musk of pleasure and Masuo’s vanilla-and-oak cologne.
“I’m coming,” Masuo cried.
Hayato tightened his hand around the base of his stiff length. He squirmed, blocking himself from gaining his own relief. Masuo’s hiss of a climax sent a shudder through him.
“You sound so hot,” Hayato said.
Masuo’s breath slowed, and he gulped down a breath of air. “I’m ready for you to get your eggplant in my peach.”
“That’s the most unsexy thing anyone has said to me,” Hayato said.
“You still hard?”
Masuo had him there.
“I take off your pants and get your peach in the air.” Hayato slid off the edge of the tub and dug through the cabinet to find some lube.
Masuo hummed. “And what do you think of my peach?”
“It’s begging for me.” Damn it. Hayato came up empty. “I’m putting my fingers in your mouth so you can get them nice and wet.”
Hayato sucked on two of his fingers, balancing the phone on his shoulder to free up his other hand to continue to stroke himself. Every exploring touch was no different than any other time he’d jacked off, yet images of Masuo, his airy gasps and rippling moans, inundated Hayato and made everything new.
“Hmm.” Masuo let out a sloppy sucking sound. “I’m ready for you.”
Hayato’s fingers popped out of his mouth. “Oh really?”
“Make sure you remember this time.”
Hayato pulled down his underwear and angled himself the same way he imagined Masuo, ass in the air, begging to be filled. Hayato was more than happy to please. His finger grazed his entrance.
“Mmm. Stop teasing and hurry up,” Masuo said.
“So eager. You’re practically swallowing my finger. I have one finger inside. I can feel you trembling with excitement.”
Masuo let out a little moan, and Hayato put a finger inside himself, knowing exactly where to angle to hit his spot best. It stung at f
irst, but it was a sweet pain and soon gave rise to pleasure with a few determined thrusts. He dropped the phone to the ground but kept it close so Masuo could hear all Hayato’s breaths.
“Give it to me. I can take it,” Masuo said. “I already know your body, but I crave you learning all about mine.”
“Then let me hear it.”
Masuo’s aching moan mimicked Hayato’s as they played both each other and themselves. The distance between them vanished. They were together. They were one. Their bodies melded. Each gentle touch Hayato lavished on himself, he lavished on Masuo.
“Hmm, you’re so tight,” Hayato said.
Masuo pleaded for more, harder, faster. Their words strung together. They embraced eternity. Together.
“I’m close. You feel so good.” Somehow Hayato’s words rang hollow compared to the warmth he felt, the pure surrender.
“Go ahead. Come inside me.” Masuo’s words rang in Hayato’s head like he’d said it himself.
He came, shooting his seed on the floor. His breaths heaved, then slowed as he came down from the high. The blur of their bodies separating. The distance growing. They were apart.
Hayato leaned against the wall and grabbed the phone.
“That was amazing.” Hayato’s breathing still sounded rough.
“I’m always happy to help.”
“Hmm. The white-knight yakuza saving everyone from blue balls.”
Masuo laughed. “Maybe just you for that one. I had a nice time last night.”
Hayato didn’t have the heart to tell him their evening had blurred to black after the third drink. January was such a shit month. Hayato would rather forget it all, even if some good parts happened here and there.
“I’ll see you later tonight. Hopefully with some money in your safe,” Hayato said.
Masuo gave some lame excuse and said goodbye.
Hayato cleaned up himself and the floor. He shut off the faucet. Hopefully it had masked his moans. He opened the bathroom door and found Subaru awake, sitting up in bed.
“Did the Korean mafia attack again?” Subaru asked.
“Everything’s fine.” Hayato waved it off. “An apartment manager was calling me back.”
“The search is going well, then?”
“Oh yeah. It’s wonderful,” Hayato lied, even though he knew somehow Subaru could tell. His big-brother powers meant Subaru could read Hayato quicker than a dealer could spot a junkie.
“I know it might be harder for you to find the right place, since it’s your first time living alone,” Subaru pressed.
Hayato frowned. He only had five days to find a place. It would be hard on anyone.
“I need to get ready to go see another apartment,” Hayato said. “Sorry the phone woke you.”
“Do you want company?”
Hayato wanted to say yes, but to be perfectly honest, he wanted to suggest they find a two-bedroom place so all three of them could live together. Yet he couldn’t let the foul creature of his selfishness be the barrier to Subaru’s happiness. He deserved to move on with his next stage of life. Hayato couldn’t keep holding him back.
“Don’t worry. I got it,” Hayato lied again.
11
Masuo couldn’t see himself having another Monday off for the foreseeable future. He needed the mental break after three full days of parlor duties, and he couldn’t think of a better way to spend his downtime than helping Kira.
“Detective Pom Pom!” Daichi called. “I wanted to watch Detective Pom Pom.”
“Okay, Detective Pom Pom it is.” Masuo clicked over to the daytime children’s program.
The theme song for the poodle detective played, and Daichi sang along, mimicking the sound effects. His sister, Sakura, was much more amused by Masuo’s cat and brushed the gray tabby’s fur.
“Is lunch almost ready?” Masuo called.
“Putting the finishing touches together,” Arashi said.
Whenever their days off matched, Arashi would come over and join in the babysitting duties. Though he also had a not-so-secret crush on Kira, and Masuo was sure she was the real reason for the help.
Arashi stepped out of the kitchenette with lunch. The kiddos got octopus-shaped sausages and rabbit-shaped apples, while he and Masuo split the pork cutlet sandwich Arashi had picked up on his way over.
Masuo grabbed his plate. “How much does a new pachinko machine cost?”
“It depends on the machine.” Arashi sat beside Masuo on the sofa. “You can usually get some used ones for like two hundred thousand yen.”
Masuo jotted down the amount on his notepad. It had been filled with the daily list of parlor duties he’d refer to until it became habit. The back pages were dedicated to figuring out the best way to get the parlor into shape. So far, the ancient machines attracted less people than a pay toilet. He’d stayed up half the night debating whether changing the carpet was more important than updating the machines. Eventually he’d figured if the games were good, no one would notice the bloodstains on the carpet.
“What machines do people like to play most at your parlor?” Masuo asked.
Daichi turned and poked Masuo’s shin. “The show’s on.”
“Sorry,” Arashi continued in whispers. “The Castle Vampire ones are popular.”
“Got it. If I can snag a few used ones on the cheap and then drive some advertising, it could make for a good grand reopening in two weeks.”
Arashi took a bite of his sandwich. “Don’t you have to close for a grand reopening?”
“Like Endo would ever let me close for two weeks.”
“Why don’t you ask Hayato?”
Masuo bit his lip. He didn’t want to ask for special treatment, especially since he and Hayato were hitting it off so well. Yesterday, Masuo had been so worried Hayato wouldn’t think he was interested anymore because of the love hotel rejection that he’d jumped at the opportunity to call for before-work phone sex. Even if it further complicated their working relationship.
Instead of answering Arashi’s question, Masuo avoided it, choosing to become very involved with Detective Pom Pom and the case of the missing sock.
The episode ended, and Masuo cleaned up while Arashi and Daichi played the mysterious case of the missing cat brush over the commercials. Even little Sakura joined in. In the end, the brush had somehow found its way underneath the cat the whole time. Gasp!
Masuo’s phone rang.
It was probably Kira needing him to watch the kids for a few more hours. No big deal, especially since it was the last time he could help.
He grabbed his phone, but instead of Kira’s name flashing on the screen, it was Hayato’s. Hopefully he wasn’t expecting another round of phone sex because now was not a good time.
“Hello?” Masuo said.
“Hey, I need you to go somewhere with me,” Hayato said.
Masuo wandered into the bedroom. “Where?”
“You’ll see.”
“So like on a date?”
“More like I need you to help me with something.” The tone in Hayato’s voice made it sound like a date was the last thing on his mind.
Masuo crossed his arms. Clearly Hayato wasn’t ready for their relationship to become anything more than fun between friends. Masuo had expected their night out would be the spark for a real relationship.
Pain tugged at Masuo’s heart. The same pain had echoed in Hayato’s voice when he’d talked about Jiro. Two years was a long time. Even if Jiro was a jerk, it would take some time to get used to dating again. Masuo could wait, but he didn’t want to be stuck as a fuck buddy. He’d stay with friends until Hayato grew comfortable enough to date him for real. The phone sex had left the ball in Hayato’s court.
“Okay,” Masuo said. “I can be ready for our not-a-date in about an hour.”
“Oh.” Hayato sounded shocked Masuo had a life.
“An hour, or I can’t do it.”
“Fine. An hour, then. I’ll text you the address. See you there.”
/> Masuo said his goodbye, and a few moments later an address popped up on his phone.
The next episode of Detective Pom Pom played, and Arashi met Masuo in the bedroom. He probably didn’t want to get hushed by a child again.
“Who was that?” Arashi asked.
“Hayato.”
A dopey smile appeared on Arashi’s face. “Still think he’s a jerk?”
“He can be a jerk.” Masuo nibbled on his lip ring. “But he can be nice when he wants to be.”
“Well, he must like you because he never hangs out with the other managers.”
Masuo told his heart to stop beating like it was the first time he’d asked a girl on a date in high school.
Masuo searched the address Hayato had sent him while the train chugged along. A website for some super exclusive-looking apartments popped up. Why would Hayato want to meet him there? Unless they were going to pretend they were looking to live there. Masuo smirked. They might not be on a date, but Hayato was going down Masuo’s list. It had to mean there was still hope for a real relationship.
Masuo got off the train and made his way to the luxury tower. It didn’t have a doorman, but for some reason, it looked fancier than Jiro’s place.
“There you are,” Hayato said.
He’d dressed in the typical yakuza suit and tie, but he made the ensemble look so damn hot. His long lashes and rose-glossed lips warmed Masuo on the winter’s day.
“Do you think they’ll even let me in this place?” Masuo looked down at his black bomber jacket and jeans.
“You’ll be fine. Come on.”
Hayato’s optimism pushed them into the apartment lobby. A huge modern art painting hung behind a sleek glass-topped desk where a lady stood.
“Hey.” Hayato took the lead. “I called earlier. I wanted to look at one of your apartments.”
“Mr. Kobayashi?” she asked.
“The one and only.”
Wasn’t Hayato an identical twin?
“Let me call one of our managers, and she’ll show you the model. Would you like anything to drink while you wait? We have coffee, wine—”
“Oh, wine, yes. White, red, whatever you’ve got, I’ll take it.”