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Eita is not gay. The sky is not quite blue, the grass is more brown than green, and the sun is a star. Otoya Eita is not gay.
He’s not homophobic. It sounds like a cliche thing to say, but he has gay friends— hell, most of his friend group has dated each other at this point. He’s the exception, considering that he’s the token straight friend.
Even amongst his siblings, a trans elder brother and a lesbian eldest sister, Eita has never even entertained the thought that he’s gay.
Girlfriends, hookups, and dates. All he’s ever been attracted to is girls. He doesn’t like guys. Chapped lips, rough skin, and broad shoulders— unattractive traits of men. However, when it came to women, none of that mattered. He dated any kind of girl, nothing was a turnoff. There wasn’t much he could find attraction-worthy when it came to men. He honestly didn’t understand that the world had people who didn’t love women.
I really am the token straight dude, dammit.
His friends were definitely blind— or maybe not, because all of them were equally good-looking and dating each other. Relationships were balanced like that, right?
~
Growing up as the only boy among his two sisters— he was aware that he was at the bottom of the hierarchy.
Eita can think back to when he was seven, getting shoved around by his nine and twelve-year-old sisters. He remembers being put in girly clothes, getting his makeup done or having his hair styled. It was done to his parents' chagrin, and they had steadily been more vehement that his sisters stop it entirely by the time he was ten.
“He’s a boy, makeup and dresses are for girls .” He’s sure the latter half of what his father had said had been an insult to gay people, along with a slur younger Eita never heard before. It had been years, but the vitriol he had said it with had stayed in his mind ever since.
“Let your brother be a real man.”
“Gay people are unnatural, they prey on innocent people.” His mother said shrilly, staring at a young boy wearing makeup with so much disgust was making Eita uncomfortable. The boy had been minding his business, on the other side of a shop. She had been the one to say something about him. Eita nodded, glancing away. There was nothing he could do about it. If he told her to stop it, she would tell him that ‘young people are too desensitized to sin’ and even probably approach that boy to tell him off.
It wasn’t like they were bad parents, but they definitely prioritized their ‘faith’ and image over their children.
His parents had cast his twenty-year-old sister out of the house without a second thought when they found out about her girlfriend of three years— who she was planning on marrying. They loved the three of their children, but none of that love was unconditional.
His other sister, no—brother glanced at him from the corner of his eye. His secret was safe with Eita, for as long as they both stayed with their parents. They were cleaning up the last of Aiko’s stuff, her room was being turned into a storage room.
He glanced at the lipgloss Aiko left in their bathroom, placed at the back of the counter. It was shiny pink, near-full. It was brand new.
Her perfumes and designer makeup were all still here despite her now permanent absence. She said that she wouldn’t be coming back to get them and that they could do whatever they wanted with whatever she left.
Tachi threw him a look. “I don’t want any of this stuff.” Eita sighed, there was a lot of it to go through.
He glances back through the stuff. To Aiko, makeup had been an art form. She had every shade of eyeshadow Eita could fathom, lip stains, blushes, lipstick— all of that. Aiko had been protective of it, treating every single piece of them like they were precious. To her, they probably were.
Eita sighs, “We’ll throw it away, fair?” He didn’t look at Tachi, but the silver-haired man nudged him. Eita raised a brow.
The elder nodded while looking him in the eyes, leaving to go grab cleaning supplies. Eita put most of the stuff in a trash bag.
What did that look mean?
He pocketed the pink lipgloss.
~
He sighs, plopping down in the corner of the room watching intently as they converse.
Okay. He lied. He never found guys attractive. There was just one guy he found attractive; one guy he was attracted to.
His best friend, Karasu Tabito.
Tall, pale, handsome and pretty. Whatever that saying was.
A weirdo, a womanizer— maybe not of the same caliber as Eita— and definitely not into him.
He’s aware that Karasu is bisexual— he was one of the first people the elder came out to— with a preference for women. But, he’s seen Karasu’s type in guys, and Eita is far from it. Besides, he’s his best friend, he knows the other inside out, and they wouldn't be compatible.
Even if they were compatible, even if he was Karasu’s type— there was no way the two of them would date.
After all, Eita isn’t gay. Being attracted to someone for displaying attractive traits isn’t anything gay.
I’m not. He glances away as Karasu drags a guy around their age upstairs, both drunk and giddy as they cling to each other. He sees Karasu’s hand curl around the stranger’s waist. He ignores the feeling of betrayal.
~
He doesn’t even remember where their argument spiraled to— but now he’s being pressed into a wall by his best friend of six years at a party, so he really doesn’t care to remember.
“Yer,” Tabito hisses, “So,” he’s somehow still maneuvering through the drunk crowd while aggressively kissing Eita, “Fuckin’ stupid .” The door slams behind him, and he goes back to kissing Eita like it’s the last thing he might ever do.
I really hope it isn’t—
Eita goes with the flow, but right now even the flow is hard to follow. Kissing Tabito is entirely different from kissing a girl. There’s no sticky press of lipgloss or the smooth but bland feel of chapstick. There are no hesitant pecks, letting Eita be the one to initiate tongue. No wanton whines or nails digging into his shoulders.
Instead, he’s the one being pressed into a wooden dresser, mouth wide open as his best friend sucks on his tongue while slipping his hands under his shirt. Instead, it’s his blunt nails digging into the fabric of Tabito’s jersey. It’s as exhausting as it is exhilarating. Eita feels every breath the other both inhales and exhales, clashing with his own.
Sweat builds on his skin, flush dipping from his ears to his neck, to even his chest. Everything feels so hot.
He really is out of it, because the only time he realizes what’s happening— that it’s actually happening— is when Tabito bites into his lip so hard that he’s sure it’s going to bleed. With his back against the cool sheets of Karasu Tabito’s bed, Otoya Eita decides.
He’s the best kiss I’ve ever had.
He doesn’t know where this is going, right now he’s just acting on what feels right. They both strip out of their shirts, skin against skin while rubbing together their clothed erections.
He moves his hands, exploring muscles in a way he never thought he would want to.
When they come into contact with the v-line, the coarse hair but smooth skin, he can’t control his hand. They slowly dip into the waistband of Tabito’s pants, but the elder’s fingers graze his nipple. Eita’s hand freezes where it is.
They both moan into the kiss.
Fuck, his chest— it’s such a pleasurably foreign feeling, it makes him throb painfully in his pants. He’s done it to girls, felt and kissed those pink buds, mouthed at and sucked hickeys whenever he got the chance. It had never been the other way around—he had never thought of it the other way around.
“Ya alright?” Tabito asks, free hand wrapping around his wrist. “Not feelin’ it?” He sounds just as anxious as Eita. The younger wants to shake him by the shoulders,
“No,” Shit, even his voice is hoarse. “Feeling it—” he jerks as cold fingers wrap around his nipple, “a lot, actually.” He’s sure that last part came out sounding like a moan— which it was.
The elder snorts, “Alright, virgin.” Eita scowls, pride bruised. Sure, he’s a little sensitive since he hasn’t had any in a while, but Eita has women coming back for a reason.
His hand dips into Tabito’s boxers, wrapping around his dick probably a little too hard. The blue-eyed man hisses, mouthing at his neck.
It’s not slow, but they spend a few minutes just feeling each other up. Their pants are both bunched at their knees and they’re back to kissing. Tabito breaks the kiss, leaning back,
“Ya wanna go all the way?” Otoya pauses. Glancing back from Tabito’s dick to his own, he contemplates.
I’ve never done it with a guy… Should I? I mean I won’t have to do all the work, but isn't it…
“Yeah, do whatever you want.” He decides. He trusts Tabito, the other has experience so he should do the work. Eita will just follow the flow. Tabito flushes a darker color,
“Ya sound real sexy, ‘toya.” He leans closer, “What if I wanna fuck ya? D’ya think you could take it?” Eita screws his eyes shut. Tabito saying filthy things, in that accent, it’s really doing him in.
“Yeah, asshole.” He replies, “And just say my name.” He begins shifting out of his pants, taking them off entirely. Tabito’s eyes remain on him as the other strips.
“‘Kay, Eita— say my name too, then.” He reaches into the drawer, grabbing a few foils of condoms.
“How should we do it, Tabito?” He asks, leaning back against the headboard. Said man drops the condoms near his thigh, kissing him.
“Lift yer legs.” Eita gives him a look, raising his legs. “Now bend yer knees,” He tells him while staring intensely, hands guiding the younger.“Yeah, jus’ like that.” He pushes Eita’s knees apart slightly.
Eita raises his hand to his forehead. His face is warm, and he feels a little weird down there— this position feels so exposing. Fucking hell.
Tabito snickers at Eita’s reaction, pulling a condom over his finger. He smooths his free hand over the other’s thigh. “I gotcha, don’t worry.”
He feels warmer for another reason entirely. His heart does a weird backflip as the heat floods through to his fluttering stomach.
I really like him, damn.
The first finger eases itself in, Eita inhales sharply but keeps his body lax.
“‘T’s cliche, but yer so tight.” Tabito snorts, moving it deeper. Eita wants to hit him, but he hasn't finished processing the finger inside him. He still retorts, “And how many people have you said that to?”
“Less than you have,” Tabito replies easily. If he’s annoyed, he doesn’t show it, but the second finger comes in more aggressively.
“Goddamn,” Eita pants. “What even—” He gets off when the fingers curl inside him, letting out a sound he only heard from women in pornos. Now it’s coming from himself, go figure.
Tabito's fingers seem to be targeting that exact spot after his reaction. The man simply hums, repeatedly jabbing his stupid—ly big— fingers into Eita’s prostate.
“Ahn,” Eita’s shoulders curl, precum spilling from his weeping dick. “Tabito!” The elder continues, so he feels compelled to keep saying his name, in sync.
“Tabito— Tabito, dude, I’m gonna c—” He cuts off, orgasm catching him off guard. “Fuck!” He cries out, spilling over his own stomach. The trail of white drips down from Eita’s thighs to Tabito’s fingers. It’s one of the fastest times he’s ever come, close to when he had gotten a blowjob for the first time.
Speaking of blowjobs, should he give one to the other? Tabito had only been focusing on his pleasure, hell the other man hasn't even reached for his own dick.
Maybe I should—
“‘Dude’? I literally just had my finger up yer ass,” The blue-eyed man complains, settling between his legs. Eita’s thoughts immediately cut off as he feels Tabito’s dick against his thigh. The other shifts, pulling out another condom.
Usually, sex is a slow descent for Eita, pace remaining monotonous for him throughout the act. It’s not bad— it’s pleasurable even, but this is different. Sex with a man— not just a man, it’s Tabito — feels like plunging down from a cliff.
The second the elder enters him, Eita feels like he’s on top of the world— or under it. It’s so fucking weird, honestly, but the heat that fills him is probably one of the best feelings in the world.
Tabito grips him, manhandling him into a slightly more convenient position as he thrusts forward, pressing his hips to Eita’s ass. Eita groans out loud, in tandem with Tabito’s movements. He’s pretty sure there’s drool dribbling down his mouth.
Tabito sighs pleasantly to himself, leaning down to kiss him.
“Yer a fuckin’ dumbass, by the way, Eita.” He says, hand wrapping around said man’s dick. Eita lets out an embarrassing whine into the kiss from overstimulation. Tabito had timed that grip to couple along the thrust he made directly at Eita’s prostate.
Breaking away, Tabito pants, “I like ya a lot.” He shows Eita a sincere smile, one the other has always hidden behind that cocky smirk that always got Eita going— even when he hadn’t realized why.
“... Me too,” Eita admits quietly. His hand brushes at the nape of Tabito’s neck, pushing aside dark hair. He wonders if Tabito likes the taste of lip gloss.
I don’t like guys, but I love you.