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As he walked through the empty corridors of that cold house, she didn’t reply when he called out her name. He was home alone.
It wasn’t a surprise, since it had been that way for as long as he could remember.
His mother relied on nannies and envelopes full of money on his nightstand to ease Kuni’s basic needs.
Kuni went past his room, hesitatingly knocking on his mother’s door while hugging the blanket he was forced to knit at detention.
He began ripping the loose threads of wool after realizing how pathetic he was becoming. It was not a decent gift for her, and why the hell bother?
It ended up in the garbage can.
Kuni stayed up blasting music on the speakers until his ears hurt and he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer.
He was waiting for her daily text message.
“Good night, son. Please be good.”
Was it a threat or a sincere request?
Detention was where he spent most afternoons. There were always six students hanging out there:
A small gang that kept getting into trouble for being too loud and stupid, a green-haired girl buried in a huge book, and Kuni.
Being there was not unpleasant, no one bothered him or caught his attention away from the sacred art of knitting while listening to true crime podcasts.
It was an endless loop until the new student came to detention one afternoon.
The school decided to rename it “Crafting Club”, so it sounded less punishing. That boy wasn’t there because he got in trouble after all.
The next day, sixteen kids filled the classroom. Most of them just joined because of the new kid. He was popular, to say the least.
Kuni was undeniably bitter.
He had a calm demeanor and always held eye contact while listening to the stupid adventures of the small gang, smiling softly at every joke. Even his voice was pure honey… Gods, Kuni hated him so much.
Kaedehara Kazuha was painfully beautiful.
Sitting in the back seat of the classroom, Kuni kept stealing glances while knitting mittens, hypnotized by the back of his head. Sometimes their eyes met, and Kazuha’s gaze was kind, inviting even. He didn’t question why he was being observed.
He never spoke to him.
Kuni kept getting into trouble for talking back to teachers or sleeping in class. They ignored him and called the principal to tell her that the senator’s kid was again a problem. For a year they tried to talk reason to the kid, but it didn’t work.
He wasn’t expelled just by request of the governor and the money they kept injecting as an apology.
Kuni kept going to detention, even if he didn’t have to and by the last days of his senior year, Kuni wasn’t mentally there at all.
Kazuha graduated a year before and the club had once again its usual members, except the green-haired girl. He eavesdropped on the gang talking about how she got into law school and they were hoping to see her again one day. Those kids adored her, hanging out with her even though she kept telling them to go away for years.
Kuni missed her for a while, even if they never spoke a word. Her presence was comforting, keeping the gang from speaking too loudly and ruining the sewing machines.
A family friend promised him that he could move to her place in a different country once he graduated and the boy was academically impeccable. Getting into the university she ran wasn’t a special favor at all.
Kuni hadn’t seen her mom in months, but that day Ei was there with her consultant and a bodyguard, clapping at his graduation while holding a bouquet of lilac flowers.
She, of course, stole the spotlight. No one was looking at him while he held his graduation diploma on stage. As soon as he got home, he gave the flowers to his nanny and started packing. He was numb.
“You left early.”
His mom was looking at him while Kuni was filling a box with his record. Ignoring her, he labeled the box as fragile and turned to his computer, trying to figure out how to pack it correctly.
“Kunikuzushi, I am speaking to you.”
He was at his limit. It was the bitter end, and he wanted to leave that night.
“Please don’t call me that.” He muttered. His name always bothered him. His grandfather—a huge and rancid fascist— insisted that he needed a strong name to be worthy of their legacy.
And his mother didn’t care, not even researching the meaning before signing his birth certificate.
“I am your mother, at least turn around and talk to me properly.”
Mother?
He laughed unintentionally but obeyed, waiting for whatever she had to say.
“You are going to the Akademiya, according to Inagi.” One of the school counselors. For years, she didn’t bother to ask him about his future, so probably she was receiving emails from her. “It is an excellent university. Do you have accommodations?”
He nodded and she sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed.
“You’ll have your usual allowance. But Kun—son, I cannot fix disasters over there. Please be good.”
Her eyes were a beautiful mauve, almost kind for a moment but then, full of concern and hurt.
Kuni was going to be good, as he knew for the first time that she wasn’t threatening him. It was a sincere farewell.
During his early childhood, everyone praised them for being almost twins and Ei always brushed it off by saying that her child was in another plane of beauty. A precious and witty little kid, meant to be the greatest. He held on to those blessings, preventing him from hating her entirely.
“I will be good. I won’t disappoint you.”
They didn’t exchange a single other word.
“Scara, will you help with dinner this time? Don’t pretend you are not home!” Nahida shouted from downstairs. “Hey! I know you are listening.”
The tiny lady had all the money in the world, and she did not hire any help. Hence, Scara learned to cook to prevent starving to death, and sadly he was good at it while she wasn’t, which inevitably forced him to spend the evening bonding over the stove.
He cooked. She did the dishes.
“A professor told me you aced your last thesis revision, are you excited?” She was the overly excited one. “I guess all my nagging worked, hehe! I knew you were a brilliant kid; you are doing so well… Should I call your mo—?”
Scara raised his head from the onions he was chopping, and his facial expression was all that Nahida needed as an answer.
“Never mind!” She laughed awkwardly, bringing the raw beef to the counter for him. “Well, we are hosting a concert. I made friends with the performing arts university…” Scara snorted at her choice of words because of course she made friends and not important academic connections. “So, I signed you up to help us.”
Scara was used to it by now. In the last event the university held, he was pointed out as the leader of the History student body, and he knew it was Nahida’s doing. Nobody would ever vote for him, since his classmates didn’t know his name.
They ate kibbeh and tabbouleh while she yapped about how amazing the students at that university were. They were going to bring a prodigy who attended his high school.
With all honesty, Scara didn’t recall any talented people in that whole country, so he brushed it off with a huff and drank more wine.
He hated to say it, but it was a good life.
Nobody knew who he was in his previous life—his name used to be in all the papers thanks to Ei, so he legally changed it— and he wasn’t lonely… not by choice at first, but he liked Nahida.
She talked so much and by her silly nature, nobody would think she was the smartest person in the world.
There was no doubt about that, and that kept him grounded, and docile. She’d crushed him like a worm in a debate.
The concert day was scheduled for Friday, and he forgot about it. Nahida was extremely busy and didn’t make home for dinner that week which made him strangely mad for some reason.
The venue was packed with people from his department and some of the acquaintances he made at the last event, including Nilou.
She graduated from that arts university, and she was in charge this time around instead of just hosting.
“I was looking for you! Miss Nahida promised you’d be here. Glad to see a familiar face.” Nilou was one of those people who radiated good vibes, and it made Scara a bit overwhelmed. But he had endured worse.
“Sorry, I was stuck with assignments.” Scara lied but she took it as a valid reason and guided him through the crowd.
“I just need help with accommodating the guests after the show, I don’t know where the dorms are and the cafeteria… this place is huge!” Nilou smiled and got lost in thought for a second. “Oh… wait, I doubt they’ll want coffee. Maybe a tavern?”
Babysitting duty, great.
Friday came and the assembly hall was ready for the performance.
There was a violoncello in the center, surrounded by other instruments and seats. Scara always wanted to learn piano, but asking his mother to enroll him in classes felt like an impossible task.
The students were all in suits and Scara was sitting in the front, next to Nahida and Nilou as they insisted on it.
Nahida was wearing a white and green dress, adorned with gold pieces and Scara just blurted a “You look great.” which made her get emotional.
After dissipating the situation with a mean comment, the orchestra was ready to play, and the silence was immediate.
After the music started, he recognized him.
He was holding the bow against the strings without moving, with the cello between his knees.
The conductor moved her hands, and they started playing.
Scara knew enough about classical music but couldn't name that mainstream song they were playing.
He was entranced by the movements of the white-haired man in the center, relaxed as if Kazuha was just one with the music.
Kazuha in a suit, was in front of him.
Scara didn’t know he played an instrument, and he sat in the back of the same club as him for years.
He was staring like in those days, wishing for their eyes to meet and receive that pretty smile once again. Scara hated how much he liked him back then when they were just kids, and apparently, nothing had changed.
And he froze when his wishes came true just after the song ended.
Which song? No idea. But their eyes connected for a few seconds, Scara was sure of that.
The concert was an hour long and his mind never tuned in. It ended with a standing ovation from the public and it hit him like a ton of bricks.
Scara was meant to oversee accommodation, and he forgot.
He scanned the stage and counted the musicians. He didn’t even realize that there were around thirty people around Kazuha.
That was what thirst does to a man.
The small cocktail after the show was all the time he needed to plan the after-party and collect all the names of the students in an email sent by Nahida a week before. Kazuha wasn’t on the list.
His mind was forced totally out of his will to think back and forth for a reason until he remembered he probably was a guest, not a student.
He was the prodigy. Nahida yapped about him for ages and didn’t say his name once.
Nilou appeared out of thin air next to him.
“There you are! You are a sneaky one, aren’t you?” He indeed was hiding in a poorly illuminated corner. “The students and guests are ready to… They said they wanted to go out and drink. Did you…?”
“Yeah, it’s all coordinated.” By him, just thirty minutes ago. He called a local bar and paid them off to end the attention of the public earlier. “The bar is ready at 8 pm, can they wait a while?”
She nodded with a flashing smile and ran to her people after thanking Scara at least ten times.
He sat down in the back row of the auditorium, mindlessly scrolling through the news on his phone until he read his grandfather's name.
A project starting a closed economy in the country was the beginning of an oppressive agenda. Obviously. What else would he propose? Free education? Gay rights?
The article was from the outside’s perspective and the comments didn’t disappoint at all. Loving all the insults, he realized her mother’s name was not in the article.
He wished to believe that she changed her political viewpoints, and Scara decided to live in the fantasy from now on.
Soon after, he was surrounded by young adults and Kaedehara Kazuha in a suit.
“Nilou told us you’ll be the one to…” Scara nodded and started moving, with the students following him as ducklings and Kazuha was last in line. The walk was relatively short, and he thanked the heavens for that, because they were loud, and he was still on edge by the news.
Scara gave a call to the bar owner and told the orchestra to wait outside for a bit, while he talked details to the guy. He seemed okay with everything, especially because the tab was open and would be paid for by the university, so he didn’t have to worry about chasing drunk people with their unpaid bills.
They were not allowed to smoke inside, and they all agreed, running inside to party.
“Hey, be mindful of not overdrinking and when you are ready to leave, call me.” Scara asked for a phone to save his number and immediately went outside. He needed a smoke.
Scara rested his back against a big tree and put on his headphones, searching for the last lecture he missed, while lighting a cigarette.
After a few minutes of peace, he noticed a different aroma than his tabaco and looked up.
“I know you.” Scara removed one of his earbuds and met Kazuha’s eyes, this time way closer than ever before. “You were in the crafting club back home, right? You haven’t changed much.” Kazuha smiled, tilting his face a bit while scanning Scara’s face. “It’s the first time hearing your voice… but your face is unforgettable.”
Scara didn’t know how to react. He knew Kazuha was outgoing. He didn’t expect to be recognized at all, even less that he would look for him for no reason.
“What do you need?” Scara tried to stay collected, to do his job as coordinator of the night out and accommodations with poise and professionalism. “Do you want a cigarette?” Why else would Kazuha go outside?
“I have my own, don’t worry.” He took out a small box out of his pocket and Scara wouldn’t have guessed he’d see a fat blunt come out of it. “So, what have you been up to?”
Scara decided that the best course of action would be to light up another cigarette and paused the lecture he was watching. He would be content by just staring at him while they smoked in perfect silence, but as human etiquette dictated, small talk was required.
“Finishing a master’s degree in Antiquity.”
Kazuha smiled warmly at him, hitting his blunt after taking a few steps back so the smoke didn’t bother Scara.
“You never told me your first name.”
“Just call me Scara.” The silence wasn’t awkward at all. He looked inside the bar, and the musicians formed a big table pushing small ones together and they seemed to be doing fine. Scara could stay put for hours, so there was no rush to leave.
“I know your family name though.” And there was no warmth in those words. Scara laughed because of course those assholes came into the conversation.
“I don’t use it anymore, so don’t bother.”
Kazuha nodded, happy once again, and got a step closer.
The smell of weed wasn’t Scara’s favorite thing, but whatever Kazuha used as perfume was overpowering it.
“That’s great because I despise your whole family.” He sounded serious. His eyes were not sparkling in the moonlight as before. That was the hottest thing Scara had seen and heard in a long time. “I heard the teacher calling your last name a few times and I thought you might be like them at first, but you were not. I wanted to talk to you in class, but I wasn’t sure you wanted to.”
The spark came back as well as the smile, as he reminisced about his days in that club. He had fun with the gang. The big one kept telling him they were twin brothers: similar color eyes and white hair.
Kazuha was fond of his memories of his country until the government started taking away people’s freedom for seemingly no reason except hatred.
“How are you so sure I want to talk to you now?” Scara said while unbuttoning his suit jacket. The night was cold, but he felt suffocated.
“I saw you staring at me, but that’s nothing new, right?” Fuck, so the gig was up all along. “Well, do you want to come inside for some wine?”
Scara thought about it for a solid minute, crushing his cigar on the floor and picking it up to throw it in a garbage can.
“I rather not.” But he didn’t want the conversation to end just yet. “Did you even learn how to knit or sew? I always saw you…” A mistake because Kazuha smiled at him as he just admitted a crime. “… just talking to people.”
“Some people are interesting. You are as well. Pretty and quiet as always.” Oh, so he was flirting.
Scara thought it was part of his overall charm, but somehow, they were even closer than before. Kazuha was a few inches taller than him, which made him look up to meet his eyes.
He didn’t consider himself an interesting person, he was just indifferent. People misread it as him trying to be cool and mysterious. Scara didn’t care enough to prove them wrong.
Then, as divine intervention, the bar owner came outside.
“A bunch of them got sick. I think they should go home; I don’t want problems with the university for alcohol poisoning.”
Fair enough.
“Thanks. Please mail the tab whenever you can.” Scara gave him a slight bow, and ignoring Kazuha—which felt amazing—, he went right inside to talk to the young adults.
Some of them were wasted and being too obnoxious to others, so it was time to go.
The amount of people was a problem to navigate through the city without flagging them as nuisances to the peace. Some of them were drunkenly singing Opera and Scara didn’t have the patience to say something about it, so he started walking faster and the ducklings just followed his lead.
The dorms on the third floor were empty and each room could be used by two students, so Scara asked a sober girl if she had any preferences.
“Oh my god, thanks! I’ll take a room with my three friends, is that okay? I am worried about those monkeys…” She pointed at a group that was wasted, looking at them in disgust, which made Scara smile. “I don’t want them to choke in their sleep.”
After fifteen minutes of accommodating them according to how drunk they were, ten out of the thirty were left resting on the marble floor.
Scara called the head nurse of the university’s hospital, and she agreed to bring some nursing students to the dorms with banana bags. For Scara, it was the perfect punishment for being annoying.
Then, three nursing students came prepared and one of them was very happy to have humans to practice placing IVs.
“They are patiently waiting in the last five rooms of the corridor. I’ll be here.”
Scara sat down on the third-floor fence, which was highly dangerous, but he didn’t care about that detail. But Kazuha cared, manifesting out of thin air.
“Get down.” He said in a strangely commanding tone. Kazuha was only a couple of years older, and even if it’s required to refer to older people with respect in his native country, Scara swore to leave behind all of that culture, including manners.
So, he just stared at him annoyed and raising his brows.
“I am not intoxicated; I don’t drink, and I don’t do drugs. My senses are not impaired so I can do whatever I want.” It was a small nag at Kazuha’s reddish corneas for smoking pot. “So why don’t you just shut the fuck up?”
Kazuha shook his head and sighed.
“If you die, how can I know where I am going to spend the night?”
Scara smiled, thinking about a good comeback to throw at him but he was tired after an incredibly long night.
“Room 315 has only one bed occupied and I think your roommate is getting IV fluids as we speak. You can ask for one too if you need it. Sleep tight.”
He went down the fence and walked to the door in front of them, asking the nursing student how everything was going. The drunk musician started complaining about how many times he was pinched with a needle before she got it right.
“That’s too bad.” He smiled at him, very happy for his deserved pain due to bad behavior. Then he asked the nurse in training. “How long until you are ready to leave? Do you need me to stay?”
She explained that it usually takes about forty minutes to administer the whole bag and asked him to stay for twenty, just in case any of the students had any sort of bad reactions that needed to be reported to the university.
“I’ll make sure Miss Nahida tips you all for your kindness.”
Scara was ready to leave. Thankfully, Kaedehara Kazuha was nowhere in sight.
Nahida was in the kitchen with some visitors late at night. That didn’t stop her from calling Scara’s name as soon as she heard him quickly going upstairs.
He did not want to greet another human, but Scara knew better than to refuse Nahida.
As soon as he entered the kitchen, three people smiled at him.
He recognized the head of the performative arts university. She made a speech after the concert.
And tragically, Kaedehara Kazuha.
“Good evening, pleased to meet you.” He shook the hand of everyone, including the cello player that was haunting him that night. “Can I be excused, Miss Nahida?”
Nahida always got the giggles when Scara called her like that with a solemn demeanor.
She wasn’t his guardian or direct family, just an old friend of one of his aunts who took a liking to how smart he was the only time they ever met.
She kept in contact with him to shower him with books that were not available in his country and periodically nagged him about his grades.
Nahida was just Nahida to him, even sometimes a “crazy lady”, but Scara was a respectful man as the world was concerned.
“I bought this wine from Germany that we used to enjoy.” And there it went his ‘I don’t drink’ lie from earlier. He avoided the pleased expression of a certain man sitting by her side. “Tomorrow is Saturday, so no early class to attend, right?”
The next sentence was going to haunt him for ages (since Nahida had a master’s degree in rubbing on his face the two times he didn’t join her for dinner), but Scara firmly stated:
“No, thank you, Miss Nahida. Please have a good night, everyone.”
And he left, hopefully, to never be disturbed again for the next two days.
The next morning, he took a shower and did his usual routine to be presentable to the world. He put on an oversized sweater gifted by the university that reached his knees and some shorts, running downstairs to the kitchen.
“Nahida?” He called for her and weirdly, she didn’t greet him back. Scara went upstairs again and knocked on her door, opening it slightly just to see that she was still sleeping. She usually wakes up with the sun itself, so it was strange.
The house, being incredibly big, was always too cold in the mornings so he started to brew some coffee.
Sometimes, memories of his old home back when he was a child filled his mind. As a young child, Scara was afraid of the echo of his footsteps in an empty house, but now he enjoyed the silence.
A few minutes went by, and he heard a door opening. Scara was staring at the drops of coffee filling the glass carafe, so he just spoke without looking around.
“Nahida, can you grab two mugs? I want the one with the puppy, the other ones feel wrong. I told you to stop buying new ones.”
The rough voice that answered was not who he was expecting.
“Not Miss Nahida, but I can help you.”
In his twenty-three years of age, he never expected to see Kaedehara Kazuha in his home. And he looked like shit. It was hilarious and bizarre to the point that Scara couldn’t hold his laughter and just gave up on his new fucked up reality.
“They are on that countertop. Nahida’s is the white one with clovers.”
Without giving it a second thought, he opened the fridge to look for the pancake mixture and mindlessly started making breakfast. He thought about changing clothes since his bare legs were showing. But if life was going to openly torture him, he was just going to sail through as he best knew how: zoning out.
After a while, he successfully forgot about the guest and placed the pancakes on the table, quickly going upstairs to knock on Nahida’s door again.
And he got an answer that was once again something hilarious.
“Please don’t be so loud, that’s so rude… I’ll be there later.”
Kazuha poured coffee in one of the cups and asked how Scara liked it.
“Black, please.”
“I am sorry for intruding on your home. How did you sleep?” Kazuha drank a sip while noticeably hangover.
“Fine. What happened last night?”
Kazuha tried to recall for a few seconds and then he sighed defeated.
“Miss Coralie rented two rooms in the nearby hotel for us, but they got the reservations wrong and of course, we couldn’t share a room.” Scara wanted to tease him a bit about it, as it sounds like the beginning of rom-com.
Also, it meant that Kazuha was just being a little shit about needing accommodation from him. “She called Miss Nahida and she said that her house had many empty rooms, so we were welcome to stay.”
Scara didn’t say anything else, just drank from his mug until he finished it and refilled it in silence.
“I didn’t know you live here. Why…?”
He couldn’t fool himself; he was utterly enjoying meeting Kazuha again, now as mature adults and away from his hometown. As said before, Scara was a thirsty man when it came to him.
He would have been satisfied with just seeing him play the cello for an extra hour, but life kept giving him lemons.
Scara got to stare at him a bit longer and even if talking to him wasn’t as pleasant, he answered with honesty.
“My family is not something I cherish, I never did. Nahida invited me to move here when I was 10 years old.” He tried to cut all the important bits, but Kazuha was staring at him attentively and looking so handsome.
Scara wanted more of it, more of his attention.
He kept going, trying not to get distracted by the man in front of him.
“I did my work so I could get a full scholarship and moved here, cutting all ties. She insisted that getting a job would distract me from my academic success so I am a freeloader, but she keeps me busy… as you saw last night.”
Kazuha was mesmerized by the soft sound of Scara’s voice. For the first time, he wasn’t being rude and it was captivating to hear more than a sentence out of those lips. Scara looked a bit flustered, which made his mind buzz… What else could Kazuha wish for?
Since their high school days, Kazuha always thought of how unfairly pretty he was, like a tiny doll, perfect all over.
Every time he caught him staring, he smiled at him waiting for a ‘hello’, but Scara felt that stealing looks was enough for him while knitting the hideous blankets.
Admitting to liking boys wasn’t something that could be said out loud back then. Kazuha wished to have the privilege to just ask him out, as many girls did.
They were enchanted by the mysterious boy in the back of detention and asked him out numerous times through the years.
Kazuha liked the disappointment on their faces when Scara refused every advance, throwing in the garbage the small presents that came along with their confessions.
He even asked Itto, the leader of the most harmless gang in human history, if he knew the name of the only son of the Raiden family.
Itto laughed because he had no fucking clue, even if the news discussed their fucked-up plans for the future of his beloved country on daily basis, polarizing the political climate.
Itto didn’t know about much politics, so he just said:
“Bro, no idea but he is chill. He just sits back there and sometimes detangles the sewing machine for us when Kuki isn’t here. He taught us how to start a fire without using matches too!” Itto proceeded to lose the thread of the conversation and explained in heavy detail what he learned from that purple-haired boy. “Anyways, what’s his name again?”
Years went by, constantly getting pissed off by reading the news until the senator Ei stopped appearing at all. Her beautiful son always came to mind, hoping he left that fucked up family. And he did, Kazuha felt proud of that.
Nahida joined the table at some point, hopefully not long ago, and stared at both with a smile.
“Good morning!” She recovered quicker than Kazuha from the hangover. He greeted her cordially and that made her laugh, shaking her head. “Just call me Nahida, you are not a student.”
And her morning yapping began. At some point, she asked Kazuha what his plan was moving forward. Scara tuned in to the conversation.
“I thought about staying in this city for the rest of the year, I love traveling whenever the wind leads me. Miss Coralie offered me a job as a cello professor for as long as I want to, since there isn’t a philharmonic orchestra for me to work with.” Even if that’d be great news for anyone, Kazuha looked troubled. “I’d have to look for a part-time job or I’ll get bored.”
Nahida looked at Kazuha for a second and then into Scara’s eyes like she was scanning his mind. Scara knew what she wanted to say next.
Nahida had a huge motherly instinct and needed to help whoever she could.
It is a miracle she hadn’t been scammed yet.
Meanwhile, he drank his third cup of coffee, he thought about it for a second. Scara knew how he felt about Kazuha and having him might result in him losing his mind.
Life kept giving him lemons.
Nahida noted the small blush on Scara’s face, connecting the dots and she smiled, waiting for some type of telepathic answer. The small nod was enough too!
“You can stay here as long as you want. Even until after I die!” She laughed at the last line, but Scara knew she meant it. “There are rooms to spare. The performative arts university is relatively close and Coralie told me about how she’d love to have you in her team… You are one in a lifetime talent.”
And as sneaky as she came, she left after patting Kazuha on the back one time with affection.
Kazuha was left speechless.
“Are you okay with that?” He asked after a while. Scara looked at his empty mug, tapping his fingers on it as he considered the possibilities. He was never home before dinner, so Scara would only see him daily if Kazuha wanted to also eat with them at night, and that would be fine.
“To be honest, I wanted to ask you out. You keep looking at me like I am…” Kazuha had his way with words. He constantly got mocked by his friends because he tended to speak dearly of the world he was in, but maybe his brain stopped working the night before. “I am far more interested in what’s on your mind than having a roof over my head.”
Scara looked at him with his big lilac eyes wide open and had to beg his brain to keep his jaw from dropping.
Too many lemons.
Was the world doing that as an apology for his horrific and traumatic childhood?
Probably. But…
“I am in the middle of writing my thesis. I do not want to lose focus. If we go out and it’s a failure, then I’d have to see you every day at home…”
Kazuha nodded, processing those words and as if magic was real, his headache went away.
“What if it goes well?” he said softly, looking at his eyes with determination. Kazuha wasn’t one to give up, his spirit wouldn’t allow it.
“Kazuha, you might be too sweet for me.” Scara blurted it out, regretting it immediately, and correcting his mistake. “Or I might not be sweet enough for you.”
Scara might be too cute for him.
Kazuha had his issues and ironically, most of them were because of the Raiden family. His mother and father suffered because of them.
And Scara was in the dark about it. Maybe he was right.
Maybe they needed time to think it over and Kazuha was a patient man.
“You should move in, of course. I don’t want to see you under a bridge getting high with the pigeons.” Scara bit his lip to avoid smiling, still in conflict with the other part of the equation. He decided to allow happiness in his life this time around.
A couple of months went by and at least two times every week, Kazuha could make it in time for dinner.
Surprisingly, he was a very talented cook and attentive to details. Nahida loved Mondays and Sundays because of that.
He ended up getting a part-time job anyway playing cello at fancy hotels and dinner parties all over town at night, which according to him, was great.
Being a professor wasn’t enough adventure for him. Kazuha could die if he stopped wandering around town and meeting all sorts of people.
Scara was focused on studying. He still didn’t give a shit about the world, except for Nahida, so he made it in time for dinner every night and resumed his endless research at home.
Sometimes, in the middle of the night, he heard steps in the silent corridor of the second floor: Kazuha coming home.
Scara wanted to give a shit about him so badly. He wanted to think about his request to go out with him but couldn’t.
Scara was content with knowing Kazuha was alive a few doors away. The idea of the musician falling for another person, while Scara was trapped on his research gave him a heartache every night.
The pain was brief because he had to focus no matter what.
Nahida was terribly worried, afraid that he was going to burn out and explode.
What would a worried person do for the one they loved?
She naturally decided to throw a massive party at the university, one that her dear Scara couldn’t refuse.
The board was okay with it immediately since she sold it as a fundraiser for people in need and a good time for all the students and faculty.
It was her biggest scheme yet and Nahida was over the moon.
“No.”
Scara resumed reading, taking notes, and watching a documentary at the same time. His under eyes were dark and his pale skin made it so much worse. He looked skinner, even tinier somehow.
“Nu-uh! It isn’t a debate. Yes or yes. Say it.”
Nahida wasn’t afraid to play dirty. She knew Scara was too obstinate to accept something without fighting for at least five minutes.
“It isn’t a debate, you are right. I am not going and that’s the end.” Then, Scara finally lost his sanity, with tears blurring his vision. “I am so close to finding what I am looking for. If I stop, I might take ten steps backward.”
Nahida sat down on the edge of the bed and Scara suddenly remembered the last day in his mother’s house. His mother had the same look on her face: pure concern and conflict.
The difference is that Nahida would never give up without trying to make him feel better.
“History won’t go anywhere, tomorrow there will be more papers for you to go through and you’ll find your answers... But life is moving forward and you are losing your tomorrows.” She placed her small hand on Scara’s shoulder and kissed him on the top of his head. “It’s easier to find answers if you can see the bigger picture. Come with me tomorrow.”
Scara whipped off his tears and cleared his throat, feeling like a huge fucking nerd crying over his research.
He didn’t even pout when he left his mother all those years ago. Clarity struck him and he nodded, taking Nahida’s hand and squeezing it.
He needed many drinks.
“Let’s never talk about this again or I’ll move out.” Scara sighed and gifted her a weak smile.
Nahida might be a genius, but she really overdid it this time around.
Somehow, old students got invitations and she wasn’t so sure if the biggest hall could host them all. The man behind all the paperwork that the university needed to function—who graduated from the university as well, and Nahida personally adored— wanted to go on strike by the incredible amount of extra hours he was doing thanks to her little scheme.
The day before, Nahida forced Scara to enjoy the sunlight and shop for fancy new clothes.
He just wanted a regular black suit and tie, so it took him five minutes to find something he liked. Scara dropped a size and he felt guilty. He was worrying Nahida to death. It was rare that she didn’t do anything insane because of that.
Nahida was taking her time, talking on the phone while browsing the store.
On her way out, Nahida was holding more than two bags, one from a different shop.
“What’s on that one?”
“In this turn, I am going to invoke one of your catchphrases.”
Scara looked at her in disbelief. She didn’t have to say it, it was clearly a ‘mind your own fucking business’ moment, and Scara loved it, laughing out loud in the middle of the street.
He just needed to go through two more days without thinking about the disintegration of ancient civilizations.
Taking a long shower was mandatory before daring to be in a room full of people, praying to all that’s sacred that nobody spills drinks on him or disturbs his peace. He will attend the party, drink everything he could lay his hands on, and go home to sleep for twenty hours straight.
When he felt like he couldn’t get any cleaner, Scara put on his fancy new suit and went downstairs.
Nahida was waiting by the door, ready and nervous because her plan was in full action. Normally, she’d say, “Let’s go, nerd!” and get the car, but she didn’t move at all.
“Are you having a stroke?” Scara lowered his head to stare at Nahida’s face, ready to dial the ambulance. She was deep in thought.
Scara went outside to wait for her senses to come back and the door opened almost immediately.
And how could Scara not recognize that perfume?
“It’s been a long time.” Scara tried his best not to check him out. He noticed that he was also wearing a suit, so he probably had a gig in a fancy place that night.
“We saw each other two days ago. You cooked the fish I brought home.” Kazuha snorted and tried to mask it as coughing. Scara was just out of his mind the past few weeks and he promised not to meddle with his business. “Anyways, shall we go?”
Nahida finally came out of the house and grabbed both by the elbow, quickly running to her car. Kazuha noticed her strange demeanor and offered to drive.
“Yes, fantastic idea! Woo-hoo!” She sat in the passenger seat and that meant that Scara had to sit in the back, even though he was always shotgun.
It was a five-minute drive, but Nahida said to take Scara home herself after promising him bottomless whisky. She couldn’t carry him in her arms all the way home.
Finding parking was a hell of an adventure. Kazuha’s good temper was almost gone because of a few bad drivers trying to do parallel parking.
Nahida was normal again and she kept turning around and smiling at a very pissed back-seat passenger.
“I was just overwhelming myself with every possible disaster in advance, so I could be cool once we were inside.”
Scara tried to compute that sentence and Kazuha was delighted by Nahida’s strange mind.
Once they finally found a place to park—Nahida had to call security and ask them to let her park in the faculty’s private space that had been closed for the night—, they went right inside.
Scara didn’t question the presence of Kazuha at all. He had been desensitized by his mental distress, going straight to the bar. He planned to stay there until further notice.
Kazuha kept staring at him, he could feel his crimson eyes right in his nape.
Kazuha was also worried sick.
Scara didn’t recall the night the three of them hung out together, and it was a specially long and nice dinner, merely two days ago. Kazuha wasn’t sure that drinking was going to fix all his troubles, but he promised that it was none of his fucking business.
And because the domino effect was real, he ended up with a glass of wine in his hand to ease his mind.
Luckily, he found one of his dear old friends from university, Ryouma, a very skilled piano player. People from all three universities nearby thought that by just donating to the cause, they could attend without an invitation.
They started reminiscing about the first days in college, staying relatively close to the bar to lay eyes on Scara. He was just drinking and eating cashew nuts.
His friend begged him to go outside for a smoke and Kazuha hesitated to leave the premises but couldn’t give a rational excuse other than stalking his roommate, so he gave up.
Scara said he’d drink at the bar until he passed out, he was going to be just fine.
It was a nice night until his friend chimed in on a conversation between strangers after hearing an awful take with a ‘Wait, what?’.
Kazuha was enjoying the music and his drink, pacing himself because he was a lightweight.
“I don’t think you understand that those types of people shouldn’t exist at all. The government is acting according to what’s right. I hope this country follows the lead soon. I am sick of waiting for a change.”
His friend was frozen in place, eyes wide open, and turned to Kazuha, who was tuning into the conversation.
“What’s going on?” He whispered to his friend, who was clenching his fist. Kazuha drank all his wine in one go and left the glass next to the wall, very confused by the situation and weird vibes.
“Ha! I was just talking to my buddy about a law that Minister Raiden—you know him, right? He’s from another nation but pretty famous.” Kazuha nodded at the question and kept listening, looking at his friend from time to time. “Well, he proposed that the border should close, so deserters can’t come back with their tails between their legs. A bunch of degenerates left that country to get married and adopt innocent kids, and now they want to go back.”
Kazuha was confused.
He understood the existence of bigots. He hated them with every fiber of his being. But why was that man being homophobic and uneducated out of nothing?
Then Kazuha saw it, clear as day. A woman was holding her partner under a tree, who was sobbing while trying to clean her dress.
“Are you saying that because of them?” Calmly, Kazuha looked at the two ladies and the man just huffed, proud. Ryouma was about to move, but he stopped him by holding his arm just to make sure.
“Yeah, I guess they are going home soon. Can’t go dancing around with a stained dress, right?”
And it happened way faster than he thought it would.
The bigot was bleeding through his nose, trying to get up and the two women ran to them as soon as the friend of the piece of shit tried to push Kazuha against the wall.
Kazuha’s friend was stepping on the bigot’s throat to make him stay still.
“I’ll call the police if you don’t leave right now. Stay the fuck away from us! Fucking creeps!” She yelled at the man and turned to Kazuha’s, sobbing at his bloody knuckles, and tried to clean them with her already stained dress.
Her partner tried to explain the whole situation to Ryouma, telling him about the sick bastard and how he followed them outside just to throw the glass filled with wine at them after they were dancing together inside.
“Ha-ha! I guess I touched a nerve. I guess you two are also huge fagg—” This time, Kazuha couldn’t avoid his friend hurting his knuckles, but he stopped Ryouma after he landed a good blow right in the face. Two black eyes in total were enough.
“Get out, both of you. And I swear in my mother’s grave, if I see you here again, I will end you.” Kazuha said without skipping a beat, with his usual calm demeanor but the kindness that came with it was not there at all. It was a promise that he meant to keep.
The two pieces of shit left, cursing them in childish ways and Ryouma guessed they wouldn’t place charges against them, since Kazuha scared the living shit out of him at some point. They surely were terrified too.
It was good that Kazuha wasn’t that drunk after all.
“I am so sorry this happened, it was a good night out. This is our alma mater so we thought it would be nice to visit. Sorry for ruining it…”
Ryouma didn’t understand why the girls were apologizing and truly, he was going to search those motherfuckers if he found out anything else. They left after properly thanking them a hundred times.
“Man, I just. Sorry, you know the shit that is going on back home and I just lost it.” Kazuha smiled at him, but he felt sad for Ryouma. He understood. “I need to go home… Wait, weren’t you spying on your friend?” Ryouma said as soon as he heard the door open, remembering there was a party inside the building.
He said goodbye to Kazuha with a hug, promising to text him soon. After a few seconds, Kazuha decided to go inside again but a hand stopped him from opening the door again.
“What happened to you?” Scara had an unlit cigarette between his lips that dropped to the floor, and the color left his face as soon as he saw Kazuha’s split lip and bloody knuckles. “What happened?” He looked around the space beside the building and took Kazuha’s hand without knowing what to do.
Kazuha was going to tell him all about it, but he couldn’t help it any longer. He softly pushed Scara’s small frame to the wall and took his chin between his fingers, brushing his lips against his soft cheek.
“Can I kiss you?”
Scara nodded and hugged Kazuha’s neck to bring him closer, waiting for him to kiss him. Scara didn’t have much experience and was too torn about Kazuha’s wounds to tell him about that detail.
He let Kazuha nip his bottom lip and they kissed softly once for a few seconds, with strong arms around his waist. Kazuha whispered. “Open your mouth, just a bit…” and that way, he could finally kiss him properly, deeply as he wanted since Kazuha met him years ago.
Scara was clumsy at first but he was a fast learner. He liked being taught by Kazuha, being asked to stick out his tongue so Kazuha could taste it, suck the tip slowly, and return the favor, biting his lower lip and tasting his blood… Right, he was wounded.
“Fuck, sorry… What happened to you?”
Kazuha shushed him and Scara was about to insult his whole lineage for ignoring his questions, but he instead let out a sob when he felt Kazuha’s thigh between his legs and let himself be devoured again.
They only stopped when the door opened again, people exiting the party to smoke and Scara’s face was something Kazuha would never forget.
He was blushing, spit under his slightly swollen lips, and looking at him the same way Scara did for years without trying to hide it.
“Can we go somewhere else?” Kazuha said in a whisper near his ear, kissing his temple softly. He noticed that Scara wasn’t drunk at all, just tipsy. And that was good, he needed to be in his right mind to answer. “Only us.”
Scara prayed all the way to the library for some peace and quiet, no other human being was there. His heart was racing for two important reasons:
He had been ravished two minutes ago and still didn’t have answers about what on Earth happened to Kazuha.
The door was always open, but he didn’t stop until they took the elevator to the second floor where he usually spent his afternoons. He went straight to one of the small conference rooms, not bothering to turn on the lights. He opened the curtains and the moonlight was enough to see Kazuha wearing a suit.
Scara didn’t talk at all; he was a man on a mission. He did what he was asked to, now it was Kazuha’s turn.
“A man threw a glass of wine to a couple, two girls around my age. My friend noticed he was talking shit, so I punched him in the face a few times. Then my friend also punched him after the dipshit spoke again.” It was embarrassing how long it took him to read the situation. “I was distracted thinking about… how much I worry for you.”
Scara nodded slowly, taking a moment to process the information.
“You punched a bigot. You saw a bad situation and your first response was violence.” He said it out loud just to make sure. “You… Kaedehara Kazuha.”
Kazuha didn’t expect him to start laughing. At first, he wasn’t sure that Scara approved of his choices, but then, it was the first time he had ever seen him so happy.
“Fuck, I like you so much.” Scara said, grabbing Kazuha by the nape. “You can ask me out. You can kiss me again.”
Kazuha leaned closer to his face and softly asked.
“Can I kiss you all over?” And Scara whispered a soft ‘yes’.
Kazuha brought his mouth to him, starting slowly and then pushing his tongue inside his mouth. Scara wanted to do the same thing for him because it felt divine.
He loved his sweet taste alongside the traces of wine, drowning in his scent. Scara didn’t realize he was now sitting on the edge of the desk until he felt two hands grabbing his thighs. He spread them for Kazuha, hugging his hips with his legs and allowing him to get closer.
Their bodies were rubbing together, Scara was panting but refused to stop kissing Kazuha like it was what he was made for.
“You look so good in a suit. Every time you came home after playing somewhere… God, you are so handsome.” He managed to whisper between sloppy kisses and Kazuha smiled, taking off the jacket. Scara did the same, as he was getting unbearable hot.
“All over you said.”
Scara looked at him attentively as Kazuha unbuttoned his shirt slowly, revealing Scara’s pale chest little by little, caressing the skin he was uncovering. And he didn’t waste any time, nipping at his neck and licking the line of his collarbone. His nipples perked at the softest touch and Scara didn’t know what to do with himself.
He had kissed people before, but not like this. It wasn’t as intense or needful. Scara knew what his own body felt like, how it felt when he pinched his own nipples, but Kazuha’s lips were undoing him.
Kazuha sucked while rubbing it with his tongue, biting softly before devouring the other one until they were bruised. Scara was so hard and it was the only discomfort he felt. Everything else was a pleasure he could never mirror on his own.
“More?” Kazuha whispered, kissing near his bellybutton and Scara nodded, laying his back on the desk.
Kazuha was a fan of beauty. He could spend hours sitting in front of a beautiful scenery practicing violoncello.
And Scara was beautiful all over. Gods, the expressions he was making only for him as he asked for more, his broken voice, and how desperate he was.
It was worth the wait, those days pinning for him all day after a small smile at breakfast.
It was enough back then. Now, Kazuha needed more.
He bit his soft waist, licking the mark of his teeth and after a few hickeys right above his hips, Kazuha raised his head to see his face.
Scara couldn’t speak and it felt like Kazuha was asking for something, and hell, he was allowed to take every part of him and tear it to pieces. He just bit his lip and didn’t break eye contact, until he could bring himself to say “anything you want” without sobbing between words. He wanted to hold on to the pride he had left.
Kazuha unbuttoned his pants and took them off without hurry, kissing the lowest part of his belly and hips, before leaving his clothes in one of the chairs around the desk. He kissed his clothed erection and as Scara grabbed him by the hair, he waited for approval before taking off his underwear.
Such a pretty sight. Kazuha wanted to fuck him so badly, knowing that Scara could only get prettier if he had his cock inside of him.
That was not going to happen.
It’d be with zero doubts, Scara’s first time, Kazuha needed to ruin him properly, and without lube, it was impossible.
He was just so pretty and needy. Kazuha only could worry about him, so he grabbed him by his neck to kiss him again, craving his taste, and softly said:
“I’ll make you cum right here, so next time you come to study in this place, you’ll remember me and you’ll hurry home.”
Scara was so aroused and pent up, he wanted to beg him to shut the fuck up and do whatever he wanted with his body. But he kissed him back with such desperation, that there was nothing left to say.
Kazuha lowered his face to Scara’s crotch and licked the head of his cock, opening his mouth to fit it inside. Before he could feast on Scara, he was stopped by soft taps and whispers.
“Can you… kiss me here instead?” Scara put both of his heels on the edge of the desk so he could move a bit and use his hands to timidly spread his butt cheeks. His face was blushed to the limit and it got worse when Kazuha smiled at him like he was proud of him for asking.
“Of course.” Kazuha then helped Scara by grabbing his ass roughly and burying his head right where he wanted. Scara covered his mouth with his hand and used the other to tangle his fingers in Kazuha’s mop of hair.
It was quickly too much to handle.
Kazuha was pushing his tongue relentlessly against his rim, rubbing it until the small hole relaxed enough to be fucked by Kazuha’s mouth.
Scara used to hate him because he was seemingly too nice, too perfect… And now he was furious because Kazuha was indeed fucking good at everything, including making him moan loudly against the palm of his hand.
Scara was pulling his hair, with his weak legs trembling by the sides of his head. The lewd sounds of content that were leaving Kazuha’s lips were music to his ears, overloading every one of his senses.
And then, Kazuha started to suck on two of his own fingers, coating them until wet. Scara couldn’t stop looking at his mouth and noticed the bruises on those knuckles.
And instead of asking him to use the other hand, he just sobbed his name as he was breached by one of them. He was so good, better than Scara could ever replicate alone in his room. And his mouth was still around that sensitive area, kissing and sucking.
The other digit followed and Kazuha started fucking him roughly with them, scissoring and brushing his fingertips looking for something inside of Scara.
“Don’t you hear how beautifully you sound?” And as he said that Scara moaned loudly and bit his lip harder, squeezing Kazuha’s fingers as he brushed his prostate. “Keep moaning for me. You are so good, so soft inside. Let me have you like this again…” His voice sounded so serene yet so rough with desire. Scara wanted him to shut the fuck up.
It was better when Kazuha had his mouth busy with something else. He couldn’t handle the praise.
Kazuha was sweet with words and punishing with his actions.
“Such a good doll, perfect all over. Say you’ll let me have you, please.”
Scara was so close to his climax, he knew that if he pumped his neglected cock once, it’d be over. He had never come just from behind and wanted it to be by Kazuha’s cock.
“Touch me here.” His voice was broken and his hands trembling while guiding one of Kazuha’s hands to his mouth, licking his palm and fingers, biting one of them. There was no pride left. “You can have me, but please… I’ll come all over your fingers and I don’t want… it has to be you, nothing else.”
Kazuha understood and had to take a second to compose himself because it was not the place or time to fuck him until a sobbing mess. Scara made it so damn difficult.
But he could wait, he could take his cock in his mouth and suck on it slowly to distract himself from the unholy noises Scara was making. It worked. Nothing else mattered, just Scara calling his name while thrusting his mouth and his hole squeezing his fingers as he came deep into his throat.
“What… I didn’t mean to; I didn’t warn you.” Scara was being silly and it suited him in that moment. Kazuha stood up straight, since his neck was hurting as much as his jaw. It was a good pain. Then he reassured Scara that it was all fine by kissing his face. “But you… you didn’t cum. I can help.”
Kazuha stared at him for a minute with affection.
Scara looked a mess, every inch of his body from his tights to his neck was bitten and marked. It made him so hungry, in a way not suitable for the university’s library.
He helped him get dressed and Scara rushed outside the small room to find a spray and paper towels to clean the desk.
“Let’s go home.”
They called for a cab.
Kazuha texted Nahida after realizing it was still very early.
They were at the party for half an hour—and at least five minutes punching a pathetic bigot— and then alone for one more. Nahida was glad that they were safe but she needed to stay for as long as she possibly could since she was putting off fires every ten minutes.
Scara was tired like he ran a marathon and sober, which was the only bad news besides Kazuha’s bloody knuckles.
The five-minute ride to their house was a five-minute nap and he had to be almost carried inside.
He took off the jacket and went straight to the kitchen, looking for some whiskey. He sat down at the countertop and poured himself a double.
Scara needed to sort things out first.
“Get the first aid kit… it’s under the sink.”
While Scara waited, he just stared at Kazuha as he walked around the room and took sips from his glass.
He was handed the kit and he searched for the rubbing alcohol and some gauze, softly cleaning Kazuha’s knuckles and then, his bottom lip.
“It was incredibly hot what you did, but please dodge the punches next time.” Scara muttered, looking for the soothing cream with no luck. “Fuck.”
Kazuha was just enjoying the show. Scara was the most consistent person he ever met. He took a big sip of the whiskey, refilling the glass before Scara could complain about it.
“You shouldn’t drink, take something for the pain instead.” Scara didn’t quite understand how he was feeling and it showed. He needed more time. “I just worry. Sorry, I don’t want to tell you what to do.”
Kazuha took another sip of whiskey and tilted his face, looking into Scara’s eyes, relaxed and in perfect silence.
“Was it good?” he asked softly and Scara just stared back until he understood the question and hid his face behind the glass of whiskey, embarrassed.
“What if I say yes?” He liked how his throat burnt after a big sip of alcohol, which made all the awkwardness go away. “Are you going to do something about it?”
Even if Kazuha liked hearing him talk back like that, he was channeling patience to give his hole a rest and Scara was making it a hard task.
Scara noticed how dark his gaze appeared after his harmless questions. He smirked and whispered.
“It’d be my first time and there is no one like you, Kaedehara Kazuha.” He kissed his lips softly, feeling braver. “And you know damn well there’s no one but me for you.”
Kazuha thought about it on the way home, doubting if he was the one worthy of Scara’s first time. Some things are precious enough to take a second to wonder, but Scara, once again, decided to make it impossible for Kazuha.
Scara was indeed beautiful and his body felt delicate as a porcelain doll, but he was asking to be broken. Being thoughtful was pointless with that pretty brat.
“Come with me.”
And Kazuha just went upstairs, to his room and after a minute, he found what he needed.
“I’ll take a shower, if you do the same, just come back here and please… don’t bother putting clothes on.”
They took ten minutes each in their respective bathrooms and Scara still had some whiskey left before brushing his teeth. He was a bit drunk now, with his senses still intact, and not nervous at all.
He ran downstairs with a towel on his waist and used a chain to lock up the door, so if Nahida came home early, she’d have to call them to open it for her. He had liquor courage and common sense.
After teasing Kazuha, he wasn’t sure what to expect. He was so lovely before, even if he was rough on his body. Kazuha was devoted to pleasing Scara, forgetting about himself. Now it’d be different.
He was getting hard just by thinking about it. Scara went upstairs again and since the towel didn’t count as clothes, he assumed he could go inside Kazuha’s room.
Kazuha was also only covered by a towel around his waist… It was the first time Scara saw him almost naked.
He knew he was muscular, as Kazuha regularly went to the gym. Still, he didn’t expect his pecs to be so defined as well as his arms.
Eye candy. Scara was a weak thirsty man.
He closed the door behind him and sheepishly sat down in the bed, after practically checking him out without an ounce of shame.
“Was I your first kiss?” Kazuha asked, standing in front of him. Like this, their size difference was outstanding. Kazuha was taller than Scara, but not by much, but their body builds were vastly different.
Even more, after Scara neglected his health, he dropped weight during the last months.
Kazuha was going to crush him.
“Hm, what? Ahh…” He needed to focus. “Yes. I kissed a girl once and a couple of boys too. Many times, but just pecking. I was young.”
Scara wasn’t ashamed of his lack of experience, since he openly disliked everyone.
And Kazuha kissed him so thoroughly earlier that night, Scara believed he knew how to kiss by now.
Kazuha’s gaze was a bit intimidating in a well-lit room, especially while looking down to meet his eyes.
“Can you suck my fingers?” He kindly asked, and Scara thought it was him being sweet and playful. He tried his best to do it properly.
“Look at me while you do it. Careful with your teeth.” When Kazuha corrected his mistakes, he didn’t feel annoyed at all. Scara liked it, fixing it and trying all over again. “Relax your jaw. Just like that… Good.”
Scara didn’t understand why they wasted time doing weird exercises until Kazuha dropped his towel and his hard cock was in front of his face. He felt blood rushing to his face and his dick, taking a big breath.
“Since you’ll be good at it, you can take my cock, right? You look like you want to.”
Scara wanted to argue that it was much bigger than just two fingers and he didn’t know how… but he wanted to. Kazuha was right.
Kazuha kissed his lips once, licking between them and Scara opened his mouth as he was taught. Such a good boy.
He wanted to touch it first, exploring the texture and hardness with his fingertips. Kazuha was a patient man, he just let him try it out at his own pace.
Scara softly squeezed Kazuha's balls, giving them wet kisses to experiment further and the cock twitched in his hand, getting even harder.
Scara took it near to his mouth and made his lips wet before placing the head against his tongue, slowly sucking it in and twirling his tongue on it. Kazuha hummed pleased, even if it was a lousy start.
He felt drool filling his mouth the deeper he took it, lapping at his saliva before he made a mess. Kazuha told him to keep going, to just do as he felt like it.
Kazuha felt so good in his mouth. It was velvety soft, thick, and hot, accompanied by his soft groans when Scara tried to take it deeper and tightened his lips around it.
He choked a bit and Kazuha brushed his cheeks softly with his fingers.
“Breathe through your nose, relax… That’s good.”
Scara took it out of his mouth and stroked it with his hand, looking at Kazuha a bit breathless before asking.
“Fuck my mouth. I can’t take it all on my own.”
Kazuha exhaled and looked almost in pain. He was unbearably horny and hearing him talk like that made it so much worse.
“Only if you start loosening your hole for me.”
And after saying that, Kazuha handed him a bottle of lube. His mind immediately came up with the worst-case scenario…
Scara knew Kazuha was a single man, but he hated that he fucked someone else after asking him out, even if it was many months ago, and was rejected.
It was unfair, but Scara couldn’t control the nasty feelings.
Kazuha noticed how tense Scara suddenly got and just waited it out.
Scara couldn’t fucking open the damn bottle. Then, he noticed the plastic surrounding it.
“You are adorable.” Kazuha laughed at him, kissing his forehead. “I bought it months ago, it’s unused. I just wanted to fuck you someday, here in my bed. I always prepare for the best.” He sighed, trying not to mock Scara for being so silly sometimes.
Scara ripped the plastic wrap and he opened it with ease.
“Do as I say. Are you torturing me on purpose?”
Scara didn’t realize how much he wanted Kazuha until that moment. He wanted to be the only one for him since it fucking hurt to think otherwise. Scara wasted so much time.
He shook his head, sitting on his knees in the bed so he could use his fingers on himself, and opened his mouth. Scara was naked on Kazuha’s bed, fingertips pushing his ring of muscles to open himself to fit him.
He started all over again, getting ready to take it in his mouth as hard as Kazuha wanted to give it to him. Scara was getting anxious to feel it hit the back of his throat, so he scratched his abs a bit rougher and Kazuha lost his composure. Finally.
Kazuha held him by the nape and after making sure that there were going to be no teeth involved, he started thrusting shallowly. Scara relaxed his jaw and held eye contact as asked, feeling his mouth so full and his dick so hard against his tummy.
Then, Kazuha started moving deeper until it pushed near his throat, bringing tears to his eyes and almost gagging. But Kazuha didn’t stop, he pushed further and stayed still. His muscles were flexed and his eyebrows knitted, lost in his pleasure. Scara could see it all and his fingers couldn’t get deep enough inside his hole.
Kazuha was fucking his mouth as requested, and Scara's drool was all over his chin and Kazuha's balls. He kept scratching Kazuha’s skin without mercy.
At some point, Scara grabbed his hips to stop him when Kazuha was all the way in, just to savor it properly and feel its heat inside of him.
“You did so good… you are so beautiful.” Kazuha whispered, breathlessly. “Lay down, please.”
Scara nodded and got comfortable with his head on the pillows, looking only at him. Kazuha opened his legs and ass cheeks, checking the ready and pliant hole. He wanted to taste it so badly but couldn’t wait any longer.
“Don’t go easy on me.” Scara said firmly, blushing and wiping the tears out of his eyes. Kazuha raised his eyebrows. “I mean it… please.”
Kazuha smiled weakly, too horny to refuse him. He coated his cock with lube until it dripped and got between Scara’s legs. He was hugged with them immediately and slowly; he pushed the head of his cock inside Scara’s body. The sob he let out was beautiful, Kazuha needed to hear more.
He pushed his hips without a rush, reshaping his insides to fit his girth, and only stopped after he felt his crotch pressed against Scara’s ass.
“Are you okay?” Scara didn’t seem okay at all but nodded and hugged Kazuha until their chests were firmly together. Scara wanted to feel the weight of Kazuha’s body, crushing him if needed.
They kissed as soon as Kazuha started moving again, every time less careful and hitting deeper, forcing his insides to accommodate him without squeezing so hard.
Then, the lewd sound of their skins clapping against each other and rough moans filled the room. Kazuha intertwined their fingers and placed their hands by the side of Scara’s head, punishing his body in the sweetest kind of way. Vicious, between kisses and reassuring whispers.
Scara used his free hand to scratch Kazuha’s back and as an answer, the man took both of his legs and abused his flexibility to place Scara’s ankles in each shoulder, bending him to his limit.
“Fuck, Zuzu… Gods, you—ah, I’m gonna cum, I don’t want...” It was too soon to let that amount of pleasure go. It hurt so good, Kazuha felt so hot and heavy against his body. His cock was meant to pound him mercilessly, filling him completely.
Kazuha raised his face from Scara’s neck and looked at that ruined pretty face. It was the first time he heard that nickname come out of Scara’s lips. They called him like that in high school… Scara never forgot, then.
Scara kept pushing him to his limit and he didn’t want to stop either.
“Can we do this again?” Kazuha whispered against Scara’s lips and didn’t move until he felt his nodding. “Then cum for me, let yourself go.”
He resumed pushing that part inside his body that drove Scara crazy, fucking him thoroughly and with so much devotion.
Scara didn’t know how it felt to cum from just taking something from behind until it hit him like a truck. He didn’t have the chance to cover his mouth, moaning Kazuha’s sweet nickname and begging to be bred.
Kazuha couldn’t refuse or think at that point, thrusting for a few seconds until his climax overcame him and kissed Scara deeply, sloppy. Scara felt hot cum drip out of his hole and Kazuha used his fingers to push it all inside again. Fingers wet with cum and lube were taken by Scara and he sucked on them, completely drunk and overwhelmed by pleasure.
After a couple of minutes of silence and soft kisses, while hugging, Scara recovered enough of his senses to whisper.
“Ask me out again.”
Kazuha looked at him with sleepy eyes and smiled as he usually did, but sweaty against his skin this time around.
“Do you want to have a proper date with me?”
He sounded so formal and kind that made Scara laugh at him, but quickly covered his mouth to avoid ruining the moment. Kazuha didn’t mind, he knew him well by now.
“I can’t promise I won’t lose my marbles again… But I know how I can be fixed. You know how to fix me as well.” Scara said, brushing Kazuha’s damp hair with his fingers. He was referring to his fucking thesis, of course.
But he was so close to finishing it, so he could vow something else confidently.
“When it’s done, we can be wanderers together. We can go anywhere we want.”
Kazuha understood the weight of those words. He liked Scara so much; he wanted him for so long… Kazuha also understood this place was his home, where he belonged.
“And we’ll come back here after every travel, right? To our home.”
Scara smiled warmly, an incredibly rare sight.
“I’d like that.”
After a much-needed shower, clean sheets on the bed, and going downstairs to unlock the front door, Scara sat down on the edge of the bed, looking at Kazuha like he always did… in silence, like he had nothing better to do.
Then, the man had to ruin everything.
“Are you going to start calling me Zuzu from now on? It was sweet.” His smug smile ignited a special type of annoyance in Scara’s mind.
“Of course not. Only if you do something to deserve it…” Scara said, crossing his arms against his chest.
Kazuha laughed, happy as he always was.
“I’ll do my best to deserve after the bruises fade.” He pointed at the many bite marks and hickeys all over Scara’s body.
Scara sighed in defeat, trying his best to avoid smiling and giving away his content at the prospect of being fucked again by that perfect and annoying man.
“We’ll see, then.”