by Amy Tasukada
He pushed the looming thoughts aside. If Subaru could start the next phase of his life, Hayato could start his by getting over his monophobia.
Hayato asked Fumiko about the next dance competition. When she got going about swing dancing, she could go on and on. Since Masuo knew nothing, they could avoid talking about the apartment and all the new responsibilities Hayato had to deal with.
With the last slice of cake finished, Hayato put his plate in the sink. Only an hour into owning his own place and he already had dirty dishes. Subaru walked over while Fumiko explained some of the finer points of swing to Masuo.
“You going to be okay?” Subaru asked.
“I’ll be fine.” What else could Hayato say?
“Some days might feel darker than others. I’m always only a phone call away no matter what time it is.”
Hayato smiled, but it felt fake. “Don’t worry about me. You keep your focus on defending your title at the next hop, or Fumiko might dump you for a stronger partner.”
She strolled over with a big grin. “He’s not wrong, you know.”
“Got it, got it. I’ll keep my eye on the prize.” Subaru held up his hands.
“Honey cake, why don’t we give Hayato and Masuo some alone time.” Fumiko winked at Hayato.
He’d known he liked her for a reason.
Subaru gave Hayato one of his proud big-brother hugs that wasn’t really necessary, since Hayato’s apartment was a ten-minute bus ride away from Subaru’s. Hayato didn’t deserve him sometimes. Other times they were even on the awesome brother scale, but in January, Subaru always won.
They gave a friendly goodbye to Masuo and left.
Hayato stretched out his arms. “Freedom.”
“Your brother’s nice,” Masuo said.
“Only when he’s not trying to win the most serious person in the world award.”
“You’ll have to take up bowling now.”
“Oh yes. I’ll start a team with my neighbors.”
Hayato made another set of cocktails using Fumiko’s recipe and the alcohol she’d gifted him. Talk about the best housewarming present ever. He handed Masuo’s glass back to him. He didn’t drink any, but that didn’t stop Hayato from taking a few big sips of his.
Hayato pulled Masuo close and planted a full kiss on his sweet lips. Hayato dove one of his hands beneath Masuo’s shirt. His soft skin covered a set of hard abs.
Hayato dropped his hand from Masuo’s cheek to the back of his neck and guided them down to the heated wooden floors. The kiss was deep, long, and lustful. Hayato put everything he could into it, making sure Masuo understood what he craved.
Hayato opened his legs a little wider, all but begging Masuo to fuck him into next month. But Masuo pulled back and sat on his haunches. His brow wrinkled worse than a condom forgotten in a wallet. He was going to say something, wasn’t he?
“I…” Masuo bit at his lip ring.
Hayato put a reassuring hand on Masuo’s thigh that could easily be moved into a more suggestive location should the mood get back to hot and heavy.
“What is it?” Hayato asked. “You can tell me.”
“I really like you,” Masuo said.
“I like you too.”
“Then can we be boyfriends?”
Hayato’s eyes went wide.
He couldn’t dive headfirst into another relationship and be stuck living with a man who refused to bring handcuffs into the bedroom. But Hayato had moved into a place by himself. It was the biggest step he had ever taken to conquer his monophobia. He wouldn’t be diving in headfirst if he lived by himself.
“I just…” Masuo swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I’m not a friends-with-benefits kind of guy. If that’s you, cool, but I need to know where we stand in our relationship.”
Masuo was being clingy again. Though, if they dated, it didn’t mean Masuo had to be Hayato’s last boyfriend. With his own place to call home, Hayato didn’t need to rely on a boyfriend as much as before. Nothing was stopping him from dating Masuo and seeing how it went. If it didn’t work, they could break up.
Hayato shrugged. “Sure, we can be boyfriends.”
Masuo’s sandy-colored eyes glowed like the bottom of a bourbon bottle. “You mean it?”
“Yeah. Did you think I would turn you down?”
“I mean…” Masuo rubbed his neck.
“Come on, even I have to admit you were right.” Hayato’s hand moved closer to Masuo’s crotch. “We have great chemistry.”
Not to mention Masuo had a massive cock that Hayato was ready to see in action.
Masuo pressed his lips together. “Then I should probably tell you you’re actually the first guy I’ve been with.”
No wonder Masuo had become so clingy so fast.
“It’s no big deal. Everyone has to have a first sometime. Mine was at fourteen. Yours was twenty-three?” Hayato guessed Masuo’s age.
“Twenty.”
Damn. They were ten years apart. No wonder Masuo had barely any refractory time. All the better to relive their New Year’s tryst.
Hayato smiled, his hand on Masuo’s inner thigh, his fingertips lightly teasing Masuo’s crotch. The heat of his inner thigh warmed Hayato’s hand, and the whiff of sugary cherry liquor from Masuo’s drink only pushed Hayato to want to show Masuo a good time.
“I need to get going. The parlor opens soon.” Masuo cupped his hand over Hayato’s, preventing him from moving it any farther.
“I’m your boss. I give you permission to be late.”
“But I made a deal with the club upstairs. People are probably waiting.”
Masuo was such a workaholic, but if his plan worked, it would make his parlor a lot of money. If word got back to Endo that Hayato had botched Masuo’s brilliant marketing strategy to get some dick, Hayato would never get back into her good graces.
Hayato leaned back. “You’d better make so much money I have to buy another briefcase.”
“I wish.”
“You can do it, honey cake.”
Masuo laughed. “I’m not much for honey cake.”
“Hmm…I’ll come up with something better, sugarplum.”
“No food.”
Hayato smiled. “Got it, sweet lips.”
“Okay, then, diamond sugar.”
“We’ll have to work on the pet names.” Hayato wrapped his arms around Masuo and pressed their foreheads together.
Masuo made sure their kiss was brief. He gave a cheerful goodbye and left.
The door shut, and Hayato hung his head. He might as well get to unpacking while he was riding the make-out high.
He rolled his suitcase into the bedroom, hung his clothes, and lined up all his makeup along the bedroom floor. Even though he’d taken the time to arrange everything from the lightest shade of pink to the darkest, the whole thing had taken under an hour. He didn’t need to go to work for another seven.
Hayato clicked off the lights and went back into the living room. The sun shined through the living room windows like it had in his childhood home. Exactly like that day his mother… He grew cold and swallowed hard. He could see her shadow on the wooden floor and the pool of urine. A whiff of decay lingered in the stale air.
He was alone.
No one would be there to stop him from ending it all.
He fled, running down the hall and only slowing when he got to the elevator. He smashed the button to take him to the ground floor and headed straight into the lounge.
People surrounded him, and he felt like he’d come up for air after diving too deep into the sea. He couldn’t do anything stupid with other people around.
A large group crowded around the pool table.
“Hey, can I join the next round?” Hayato squeezed into the group. “I’m Hayato. I just moved in today.”
They welcomed him, and Hayato wasn’t alone.
15
A week after officially becoming Masuo’s boyfriend, Hayato was ready to rank their relationship among his top
ten. They didn’t argue. Masuo was kindhearted, albeit a workaholic but not enough to avoid a late-night movie when Hayato suggested one. Really, he had no complaints.
Except the few times their nightly movie make-out sessions had left Hayato hot and wanting. He’d suggest going to a love hotel close by. Sure, it would be two in the morning, and Hayato expected the three-condom standard Masuo had set before. So what if they’d finish at five and Masuo had to go to work a few hours after? No matter how sweet the fantasy played out in Hayato’s mind, Masuo always rejected the offer.
If it wasn’t for his blue balls, Hayato would rank their relationship in his top five.
With Masuo’s grand reopening a week away, Hayato would probably have to wait until then to finally get down and dirty. Maybe it was a bit selfish. It was his own fault for not remembering their New Year’s sex extravaganza.
Today, Hayato wasn’t going to meet Masuo after work, since he’d be painting. Nothing sounded more boring than watching paint dry.
Hayato strolled into his apartment lobby and headed for the resident lounge.
“Mr. Kobayashi,” the manager called.
She came out from the office hallway like she’d been waiting there all night. Her long hair had been tied back in a tight ponytail.
“Yes?” Hayato said. “I love the new apartment. Thanks again for your help with all the paperwork.”
“Would you come with me to my office? There’s something we need to talk about.” The woman’s serious tone set Hayato on edge.
Hopefully it wasn’t the yakuza talk. He’d always figured he acted gay enough no one would believe he was a mobster. One of the late-night billiards players might’ve seen Hayato’s tattoo and complained. Tattoos weren’t illegal, but they sure carried a stigma and made people jump to conclusions. All Hayato had to do was calm the manager down and swear he hadn’t drunk sake with the Kyoto godfather.
Hayato followed the manager to her office and got ready to fake shock at the accusation of being called one of the big, bad, scary yakuza.
She sat behind her large wooden desk, and her expression soured. The air grew thicker than when Hayato had been in high school and his counselor had asked him why he wasn’t applying himself like he’d done the years before.
“Did I forget to put my seal on one of the leasing pages?” he asked.
“We’re glad you enjoy all the amenities we have to offer,” she said.
“I’ve met so many neighbors at the lounge. We’re becoming good friends.”
“That’s good. Maybe invite them to your apartment. You see, we’ve been getting some complaints.”
Hayato’s eyes narrowed. “Complaints?”
“You’ve been found sleeping in the lounge on several occasions.”
“I start a movie and accidentally fall asleep. Who hasn’t done that?”
She frowned. “It’s making some residents uncomfortable.”
“Oh.” An empty feeling erupted inside Hayato’s gut like a sinkhole swallowing a street.
“People are saying that every time they come into the lounge, you’re there, trying to make conversation even if they want to be left alone,” she continued as if talking to a child.
Hayato crossed his arms, his cheeks burning. He couldn’t explain to the manager how being alone made him envision his slow, painful death until it brought him to tears. How his throat would close and leave him gasping for breath.
“I’m excited to meet everyone.” Hayato hoped his voice sounded more confident than he felt.
“We take every complaint seriously, and we’ve had several already. We are being generous and putting you on strike two. I’m afraid if we get one more, we’ll have to ask you to leave.”
“You can’t kick me out. I signed the lease last week. My rent pays for those amenities. It’s like people have never seen someone sleeping before. Salarymen sleep on the subway all the time, and no one cares.”
She pulled out Hayato’s leasing agreement and pointed to a highlighted section on the page. “You see here, it clearly states—”
Hayato stood. “Whatever.”
“Mr. Kobayashi—”
“I get it! I won’t hang out in the lounge anymore.”
He stormed out and smashed the elevator button, trying to quell his anger as the car ascended to his floor. His frustration had mostly subsided, then he reached his door. A paper had been taped to it. The word creep had been written in thick, blocky letters that took up the whole sheet. He ripped it off, crumpled it up, and left it on the floor.
The door slammed shut behind him, and he changed out of his suit and into street clothes. He was so frustrated the solitude didn’t sink in until he went into the living room.
Still empty.
Even the futon he’d bought had remained in plastic wrap, since he hadn’t slept in the apartment. He needed to buy furniture. He had managed to convince Subaru to host their weekly dinner at his place, but that would only buy Hayato so much time to pretend he had his life together.
What even was his style?
His ex was into modern stuff, which had never appealed to Hayato. When he’d lived with Subaru, they’d gotten whatever junk was cheapest.
As a child, their mother had decorated their house in a California-beach style to relive her exchange student days.
Hayato laughed, imagining the same bright-yellow surfboard coffee table in the center of his empty living room. He bit his lip as the memory turned painful.
It had really happened. Twenty years ago. It felt so far away until Hayato closed his eyes. Then he was ten again, walking home from school. Their father had left the night before on a three-week business trip, and they were alone with their mom.
Dad had put Subaru in charge and given him a large envelope of cash to pay for everything down to the rent. Mom had been sick all year. She’d turned into a completely different person. They’d have to take care of her and the household chores.
When Dad had left for his trip, the little light in her eyes had faded. No wonder she’d…
Hayato swallowed, not daring to think the words, too afraid of evoking the vision. His fingers went numb, and a cold chill shook him to his marrow. He couldn’t stay here alone. His thoughts would drift, and within minutes, he probably wouldn’t be able to control them.
No one would be here to stop him.
It got hard to breathe.
He grabbed his coat and left. Watching paint dry with Masuo suddenly sounded a lot more interesting.
The paint fumes hit Hayato before he got near the parlor. Masuo stood on a ladder, stripped down to his white undershirt and completely absorbed in painting. He sighed, grabbing the end of his shirt and using it to dab a bit of sweat off his brow. The man had such delicious abs.
“Hey, sexy. You missed a spot,” Hayato said.
Masuo looked down with the biggest smile on his face. It almost made Hayato forget how horrible January was.
“You changed your mind about coming,” Masuo said.
“Well, you know.” Hayato held up one of the hot-chocolate drinks he’d picked up along the way. “Happy one-week anniversary. Or do you want to call it two? We’d have a better first date story about hot New Year’s sex if we say two weeks. I do kind of feel bad I don’t remember it, but that means I can make up more outlandish things if anyone asks what we did.”
Masuo ignored the offered cup and climbed down the ladder to embrace Hayato. He could’ve been outside on the chilliest day for hours and the way Masuo hugged him would’ve warmed him. In his embrace, all the horrible things with the apartment and the crappy month grew to distant memories.
“Thank you.” Masuo squeezed a little tighter. “I was thinking about saying it was our one-week anniversary, but I thought you might think it was sappy.”
“Oh, honey, come on. We’re together now. Nothing is too sappy, but I can think of a lot more ways we can celebrate than with some hot chocolate.”
Masuo pulled Hayato closer by his waist and kissed
him. Hayato let out a little gasp of surprise, and Masuo took the upper hand to deepen the kiss. His hands cupped Hayato’s face. It wasn’t sloppy or sexy like Hayato would’ve said he wanted, but it was everything he needed.
Masuo pulled back, his smile lighting up the room. A calm flooded Hayato’s body. He almost didn’t mind the parting because he’d been so satisfied.
“I’m happy you came,” Masuo said. “I’ve been enjoying our late-night outings.”
“I have too.”
“I would like to keep kissing you, but I have to get this coat finished.” Masuo picked up his paint roller.
“You went with white paint?” Hayato asked.
“This is the primer.”
“It’s streaky over there.”
“It’s the primer.” Masuo said it like Hayato was supposed to know what that meant.
The minutes passed.
Hayato sighed and rocked side to side on one of the pachinko stools. Watching paint dry wasn’t the most riveting date.
“Arashi gave me a contact for used machines,” Masuo said after ten minutes of silent painting. “Have you heard of a guy called Tall Ken?”
“I wouldn’t want to go drinking with him, but sure.”
“He says he’s got a few of the new Castle Vampire machines, but they’re not supposed to be officially released for a few months. Is it legit?”
“He’s got some connections.”
“So I should trust him?”
Hayato finished the last of his hot chocolate. “I should probably go with you. He owes me a favor, and I can make sure he gives you a good price.”
“Monday night?” Masuo stepped down from the ladder, moved it a little bit, and climbed back to move to the next section of wall.
“It’s a date. A boring date but a date.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
Hayato’s arm snaked around Masuo’s waist. His usual oak-and-vanilla scent was mixed with a deep musk from all the work he’d been doing. Hayato’s fingers crawled up Masuo’s delicious abs.