Work Text:
On a last-minute work trip to Tokyo, Tadashi wound up seated in an unfamiliar bar alongside a coworker with whom he spoke to a total three times. Hours prior to his predicament, his team celebrated the conclusion of a year-long project for one of their most demanding partner companies. The project lead saddled him with the enormous responsibility of working with the General Public Commissioner and the marketing team for product rollout. Months of overtime, especially as it came to a close, drove him delirious. In between doing overnights at the office, attending every game he could for his best friend, attempting to socialize with his old high school team, and calling his mother at least once a week, downing whatever drink put in front of him felt like the minimum reward owed.
His cohort in Iris Ohyama booked a train back to Sendai in 24 hours, and another week at the office stared him in the face as soon as he arrived. Before he took off on Thursday, he apologized profusely to Kei for needing to miss their away game in Osaka, to which he received a dismissive wave and a promise of a silly souvenir.
Someone unbeknownst to him ordered round after round of shochu and beer, but he happily cleared every glass without fail. The private room booked for their celebration faded after the fifth drink; when he came to, water bottles and an embarrassing proposition of going to another place startled him out of his floaty haze. Rather than letting them drone on, he offered to accompany his coworker, especially when his usual plan of late-night drinks with Kei's team flew out the window. His mind drifted to Kuroo or other Nekoma alum, preferring to spend time with people whom he knew, but he doubted the famous Kodzuken did spontaneous meet-ups. Even his beloved friend Yachi became unreachable on such short notice.
What-ifs and alternative timelines occupied his thoughts until his coworker dragged him all the way to the nearest station. In their drunken stupor, they stammered through an unnecessary speech of gratitude.
"I-It isn't too far now, but! But, but I swear that this means a lot to me. I don't know when w-we'll be coming back here anyway, and god, this must be so weird for you-"
Tadashi processed half of what that person attempted to explain, but his head swam too much to stop them. Pushing through, he mustered a polite smile and a wave of his hand.
"It's no problem, really, I'm sure it's less anxiety to go with another person," he replied, swaying to the movement of the train.
"Okay, we have a few more stops until Roppongi, I can check really quickly..." they said, trailing off.
The awkwardness of the situation drowned him, and his coworker went back to their phone to ease the tension. According to the subway map, they were only a few stops out; he turned his attention to all the missed text messages and cursed at the alcohol-induced difficulty. Koganegawa's victory picture of all the Sendai Frog players lit up on his screen. When he had more wherewithal, he'd save the photos and maybe tease his friends. Even Kei managed to send him some update texts, but replying would be for later when he dove under fresh hotel sheets.
After a brief walk from the train and up some unfamiliar building steps, the front desk person waved them inside, just in time for their 'nightly show'. The speed of which this unfolded proved to be too much, and he missed the advertisement signs at the front and the name of the establishment.
Still processing nearly nothing, he let one of the staff guide him and his coworker to a free table, and they set down drink menus to peruse. The shine of the person's attire caught his attention, and when Tadashi did a full scan of the bar, he noticed how out of place he felt. Posters of gorgeous women in corsets and fishnets donned the walls. Staff, in similar outfits, spoke to patrons in surrounding tables, and the patrons themselves wore a variety of different outfits, some even in business suits. He averted his eyes from the person approaching their table, forcing himself to stare at anything other than the shine of the black latex one-piece. Tadashi wondered if his coworker understood the gravity of the situation, and the absurdity ate at his brain as he eyed the drink menu.
"Oolong, please."
"Of course, sir, right away."
The pulsating lights and voice of an MC cut through the thick fog of his brain, and he swiveled his head to the sound source.
"What kind of place did you say this was?"
No response. With a crack of a whip and a bright spotlight glowing center stage, Tadashi focused his eyes hopes for some answers. His companion sat engrossed, fixated entirely on the latex-clad performer and bundles of rope in their hand. He knew not if this was fate or some strange joke from the universe that this person, who he knew nothing about other than they were close in age and started at the company in the same month, dragged him to a fetish bar.
Did they know what kind of place this was? Why had they taken someone that's practically a stranger here?
From his seat, he watched with mouth agape except to suck the bottom of glass when the overwhelm proved to be too much. All the movement and energy hypnotized Tadashi in an instant, zapping all the questions out of his brain. Alcohol dulled some of the embarrassment blooming within him, and it allowed him to focus on each new path of rope laid down. The myriad of colors shined on the bare skin jutting out over the red silk, his breath hitching with each new part of the body encased. The peripherals of his vision faded, his focus entirely dialed in on the contentment awash on the cocooned person, blush accentuated thoroughly under the restraints. So focused their expression and ties formed, Tadashi gasped as their suspended body lifted into the air. In the pink lights of the club, a latex moon shone high above an audience, and electricity thrummed through his veins.
The two of them made it back to their respective hotel rooms half an hour past midnight, neither exchanging a word save for a polite goodbye, silent agreement to never speak of this to another living breathing in the undercurrent. He freed himself from his clothes and climbed in the bed, buzz still filling all the crevices of his brain. Every promise made in his drunken state evaporated; instead he jumped into a rabbit hole of his own making.
A full 12 hours of screen time, the sun almost at its apex and belated apology texts to his best friend later, he packed his bags and boarded the train back in silence. All of his coworkers nursed hangovers, fast asleep with the blur of the city filtering through the window; he missed the memo and sucked down a latte to continue his frantic internet searching.
Loading the cart with beginner hobby supplies proved far too easy, and he did his best to not balk at the amount he racked up on every website. Deciding an end point was the hardest part. The Tadashi from over half a day ago hadn't thought beyond impulse, only that he needed to chase a fascination. The fact he lived several hours away from the very source of his captivation hardly crossed his mind; at the same time, he refused to pause. Instead, he rushed forward and daydreamed of the possibilities, of the routes he wanted to traverse. Performing in a big city fetish bar posed as a farfetched pipe dream, but contorting a beautiful person to his ideal called to him. A fire sparked as he moved toward that idea, and with it a head of blond hair and eyes full of honey materialized the further he walked. Tadashi had never been happier to be in a train car full of sleeping people unable to see his reddening face, buried in his hands.
Even when he rubbed his face in an attempt to scrub his brain, the mental image lingered, growing larger with avoidance. Kei suspended in purple silk with flushed skin and under a spotlight boomeranged until it hit him square in the face. He added a few more bundles of rope into the cart before he tapped the order button, Sendai station coming into view as he received the email receipt. His group shuffled out the double doors and scattered to cars or transfer trains home; none of them bothered with long goodbyes, knowing they'd see one another in less than 48 hours.
"You didn't have to pick me up from the station," Tadashi said as he walked up to his roommate. Kei shoved his phone into a pocket and took the handle of his suitcase.
"Nonsense. It'll be the most bearable thing I've done all weekend," Kei replied, "the taxi's waiting for us, by the way."
"You played a game though?"
"And?"
"You're insufferable," Tadashi retorted, warmth spreading through the most sleep-deprived parts of him.
As soon as he climbed into the backseat, his phone flashed with a message notification from his coworker, and his body ran cold when he saw the name. What was meant to be a text expressing gratitude turned into a horrifying realization accompanied by embarrassment.
"Yamaguchi, your seat belt," Kei said, pulling him out of mortification.
Tadashi nodded and did as he was told without another word, making his best friend quirk an eyebrow up with confusion.
"Was the trip that bad? You're quieter than usual."
In an attempt to distract them both, he flashed a toothy smile.
"No, just really tired, but your concern is noted. You know how my coworkers get with drinking and they even rented out a room to celebrate. God, you should've seen how many many rounds Sato-san ordered, you would be shocked."
Kei tilted his head and let out a soft chuckle as he teased, "concern, is that what you think it is? I don't want you dying before we get home, that'd be too expensive. It's a wonder you made it back in one piece and not hungover though, congrats."
Hungover? No. Utterly fucked and trying to get himself to stop sweating bullets? Absolutely. To his relief, their usual banter picked up on the ride back, while 72 tabs of articles, instructional videos and worksheets on his phone burned a hole in his pocket.
As soon as they got home, Tadashi excused himself and skipped out on their usual Saturday evening watches, wanting to calm his racing mind. Kei pouted all the way to his door and feigned indifference, ceaseless complaints betraying him.
"I just really need a nap, I'll be up before you know it!" he promised.
Kei narrowed his eyes and scoffed, "right, because you're such a light sleeper. I'll order food in an hour. If you're not up, you're not eating with me."
He turned on his heels, walking away with his arms crossed. Tadashi managed a chuckle, knowing that he'd have a cold plate of takeout waiting for him should he emerge late in the night. He caught the tail end of Kei's grumbling as he shut the door completely, but he ignored it, too dizzy with anxiety.
Maybe he overthought this entire situation.
Neither of them gave the other details on matters of intimacy; it occurred to him as he laid down that in the near two decades they spent together, Kei never spoke of dating long-term. He hardly shared his dating history, let alone entertained the idea of dragging along boyfriends or girlfriends around. Of Tadashi's recollections, his friend reluctantly agreeing to dates from various confessions in college cropped up, all of them going downhill after the initial meeting. Truthfully, Tadashi shied away from sharing his own experiences or learning about Kei's. Their world contained just enough space for the two of them, all the inside jokes and gossip and pain; they searched for one another after long days to ramble or sit in companionable silence. An incessant feeling stirred in his body at the thought of either of them divulging such information.
If it really mattered, he would say something to Kei, he promised himself.
--------☆
His gluttony began with a persistent desire to talk about all the new things he learned about rope art, eating away his sanity with how much he withheld from Kei. Bright voices in Tadashi's brain promised it'd be enough to keep his hobby in the confines of him room, all of which turned out to be a lie. His elation and frustration needed an outlet; it threatened to spill from his mouth every time Kei asked about his day. The growing well of his knowledge rose up to his neck, garbled the words in his mouth until he slipped on answers that required decoding. He needed someone who would understand. Every time he stuffed his urges and secrets in the recesses of his mind, evidence littered his lap or his screen or his credit card statements, to his chagrin.
Of his more incriminating activities, his FetLife browsing ranked number one. He opened the website only when he scuttled into his room and only ever in the Tokyo-area forums. Tadashi started as a lurker in hopes that it would satiate his appetite; the no friends and no groups streak lasted all of two weeks before he gushed under group discussions of new artists' works that he admired, receiving recommendations from people of shared interest.
On odd hours of the day, he browsed through his curated websites that served as inspiration for future ties. One by one, his private social media accounts contained collections of saved photosets and bookmarked events, not that he ever found the time to travel away for this sheer indulgence.
Instead, he found himself returning to the same daydream, walking into the same bar with more confidence than his first time. On days he felt brave, they offered him a time slot to do his very own performance, and he walked arm-in-arm with his favorite person, having rehearsed suspension ties in the comfort of his own studio. Fantasies swept him away as he practiced on himself well after the moon rose and on evenings Kei worked overtime, which happened more often now that it was off-season. The world around him faded until it became nothing but echoes, under phantasms and distant, begging voices. He took comfort in the routine of dreaming in solitude, no longer confined to his room. The figments of his imagination spilled all the way out to the couch, on the balcony on warm summer nights and at the kitchen counter where he watched Kei cook meals. All the alone time emboldened him to indulge, getting lost in all hours of the night.
Another evening without company found him, and his eyes trailed up to the wall clock that read seven o'clock on the dot. Five more minutes in perusing, of dreaming he told himself. Beyond the simplicity of the photoset itself, the intertwined couple on his screen enticed him, and he dove deeper, wanting to understand what captured his attention. He missed the quiet swing of the opening front door, back facing the apartment entrance and mind zeroed in on his analysis. As soon as the door clicked closed, he jumped in his seat and slammed his laptop shut on instinct.
He didn't see it, right?
"Hello to you too, Yamaguchi. What were you hiding on your screen?" Kei greeted tone pointed.
Tadashi slowly turned around in his barstool, inhaling slow to calm his erratic heartbeat. Heat rose to his face as his eyes darted around the room before eventually landing back on Kei.
"Welcome home! How was your day at work?" he replied in a high-pitched voice.
"Good, but you didn't answer my question."
Tadashi stifled a groan as he spoke, "it's nothing to worry about, really."
"If it's nothing important, then you wouldn't mind if I saw it then, right?" Kei teased. With a relaxed pace, he made his way across the room and slid right in the front of the computer, placing his work bag down on the ground.
The ease in which Kei cornered Tadashi unnerved him. All of it done in smooth movements, without even looking at him. Worst of all, he couldn't fathom blatantly lying to anyone's face; omission proved easier, to dance around a subject rather than hit the mark. Kei stared at him, waiting. In between praying to evaporate and covering up his panic through smiles, he placed his arms over his laptop as if burying it would make them both forget, but if Kei's face was any indication, it failed and miserably so. More panic took over Tadashi, and he slowly pulled his computer closer to his body. Kei blinked at him, gaze unwavering.
Whatever he plotted pushed Tadashi into more unease, the playful glint in his eyes shining like warning signals. With a pout, Kei poked at his cheek and down this arm.
"Tsukki," he whined.
Kei paused, head tilting to the side to feign innocence.
"What's so scandalous that you have to hide it from me?"
He punctuated the last word of his question with bitterness, catching Tadashi off-guard. Kei leaned into his space, exaggerating his pout and petulant tone.
"It's porn, isn't it? Out in open in our living room? What would your dear roommate say if he walked in on you?"
Tadashi needed room to breathe. His mind raced a million miles an hour, attempting to scrape up an evasive response, but Kei's expectant expression unraveled his decision making.
Still, the prospect of revealing himself and injecting awkwardness into their friendship pulled him deeper into his well of embarrassment. Warm honey eyes pierced deeper into him, and the heat flashing in his face grew under the scrutiny. Maybe being trapped in this sticky mess wasn't too bad, he thought to himself; the poking of his cheek and long fingers tracing his laptop showed otherwise. Whatever dam he built over months cracked under Kei. In defeat, he opened up his device and punched in his password to bring up the photoset.
If the world was merciful, then the battery would die right now and buy him time to make up an excuse. The corner of the screen displayed a clear 99%, and he knew that he had more chance being struck by lightning than come out of this unscathed.
"Happy?" he said, eyes averted.
Kei finally leaned back and shrugged. Regret washed over Tadashi as soon as they broke from each other's stare. He could have held on and lied or made a mad dash to his room, but now he was forced to wait.
When he looked up, he caught Kei's eyes widening to saucers while he scrolled, his jaw dropping simultaneously. Parsing all of his expression changes occupied some of Tadashi's anxiety, all the the wrinkles of the eyes and the outright grimace forming. Making a run for it seemed now like the best option, hindsight catching up to him. Knowing that this potentially marked the downfall of their friendship or drove a wedge steeped in judgment could be comical to tell to a therapist. Maybe his friends would get a laugh out of this as he storied it to them. He attempted to take over the trackpad, but Kei swatted his hand away, eyes glued to the screen with a more neutral expression than just a moment ago.
With no choice but to watch this disaster unfold, and he sat very still in his seat, chewing on his bottom lip.
Kicking himself internally, Tadashi cringed as Kei scrolled down with a quickness unusual to his being. The first picture showed the submissive one of the two stretched, contorted and maneuvered as rope wrapped around more and more of their body. The other figure, staying close, busied themselves with constructing the shape of the person's body pulled taut. Heat pooled in his belly as he got glimpses, and he cursed himself at his body's responses.
Looking back at the screen, Tadashi covered his eyes at the last photo; the subservient person folded their arms behind them as the other sat in front, one hand gripping their throat and the other pulling the rope taut in the other direction.
He argued with himself, deciding if the apology brewing for making Kei the subject of his fantasies would die inside him or if it was necessary vocalize, as a means to absolve guilt. The mortification felt punishing enough, spilling the rest of his weird thoughts would only worsen the ability the mend whatever this was. His resolve crumbled, internally thanking the gods for having spent so long being Kei's friend already. Was he supposed to admit it in plain speech before he said his final goodbyes with a, 'hey sorry that you caught me looking at this while imagining you! I'm a horrible friend!'
"So, who exactly are you trying to get in this position?" Kei interrupted his spiral.
Was he poking fun or ramping up to the most humiliating ending of a friendship? A blush broke out on Tadashi's face, both embarrassed and surprised at the turn of events.
"What?"
"What was unclear about what I said." Kei deadpanned, turning to Tadashi.
"Well, I didn't realize you were home," Tadashi started, looking away again. "Also no one! I'm not good enough to do it to some stranger."
Tadashi winced at his easy admission. When he managed to glance back up, Kei rendered himself unreadable. He struggled to figure out if he chose the wrong thing to say or if it would all end in the same way, with each response catching him off guard.
"How long have you been practicing?"
"Is that relevant?" Tadashi replied, still confused. Why was any of that necessary if in the end this would be just another thing that they forgot about?
"Can't one friend want to know about the other? You act like I'm impossible," Kei huffed, smug expression emerging with each word. "Plus, there's a limit to doing that to yourself. You're not that flexible, unless you're hiding some secret contortionist skill from me."
Whatever rollercoaster the gods put him in went in direction unfathomable to Tadashi. He sat in silence for a few moments, shocked not by the lack of insults but the fact that Kei pressed him. Tadashi sighed in relief as he looked back at the screen, the pictures still displayed front and center.
"What's the point of hiding a contortionist skill if I can't use it?"
Kei shrugged, "there's plenty of things to do, use your imagination."
"I've been practicing for six months, limitations with the flexibility of my body and all. You can't even imagine how hard it is to ask other people," he complained.
"If it's that bad, I can help you," Kei offered.
His brain played tricks on him, giving him what he wanted as he died with a rush of endorphins. Except the incessant ticks of the wall clock sounded the same, the incriminating photos still flashed bright on his laptop and Kei's face stayed unreadable. If his brain really wanted to make him feel euphoria in his final moments, there wasn't enough fanfare for his death.
"You're serious?" he replied, unable to stop himself.
Kei's shot him a look of annoyance, "why would I joke about that?"
"Really?"
"God. Yes, if it's so appalling to you then let's not."
Tadashi cut Kei off with a grab of his hands and a huge smile on his face.
"Listen, listen, we can do only as much as you're comfortable with, and it'll be all up to you! We can even try it one time and if you hate it, then we never talk about it again," he exclaimed. In his excitement, he fell out of his seat, nearly pulling both of them down.
Kei groaned and sat up taller to adjust himself.
"Sure, whatever works. Can we have dinner already?"
"Yeah, just pick something. I have - I have to start preparing!" Tadashi replied, running into his room with his laptop. A makeshift curriculum of all his accumulated knowledge needed printing, two copies of each article.
In his hurry, he missed the silence engulfing the entire apartment.
--------☆
Kei doomed himself.
His world imploded on an random Wednesday night, and he hoped come Saturday they would forget about his offer and spare him the embarrassment.
Wanting to preserve Tadashi's excitement, Kei withheld on rescinding his impulsive offer. Instead, he decided pulling the plug when he could find a lull, sooner rather than later. The entire situation stood as untenable in his eyes, and he hoped to nip it in the bud, destroying the blooming hope in this chest.
Kei calculated the time between saying yes and the letdown, hoping a solid 72 hours could be enough space for Tadashi without immediately shooting down his confidence. The rest of their night fizzled out into shared TV time before he slipped into bed without sleeping. His complete inattention to their show went unnoticed, Tadashi spending the entirety of several episodes buzzing and spouting all of his ideas. The three days in between Kei's agreement and this current spiral, he dove on his computer some semblance of understanding what exactly he agreed to. He convinced himself the act itself was not a punishment, though the lack of evidence and knowledge made that more difficult. The sheer amount of books, articles, videos and guides available to his disposable overwhelmed him to no end; he could read all about it and understand its mechanics, but the real fear hung around his neck.
Unable to shake his apprehension, he took to pacing around his room, likely to the annoyance of his downstairs neighbor. Being anxious agonized him, drew the planned conversation out to a snail's pace, even when it hadn't started. Kei retreated into his brain when his thoughts became louder than his breathing.
The question of why haunted him every waking moment. Why did he offer, why did he agree, why did it cross his mind in the first place? He spent decades stuffing down his impulses, finely-tuned control sharpening over years across his interests and desires. Such feelings crept from the crevices of the mind, when Tadashi's sleeping form leaned against him and on their weekly restaurant outings and in solo shopping trips when he'd see strawberries and smile to himself. Still, he choked them down with a precision and bled them before they started.
A knock interrupted his thoughts, pivoting him away from self-flagellation. Tadashi cracked the door, peaking his head and a small smile gracing his face.
"Not a good time?"
Kei walked over and swung the door open all the way before he sat back down on his bed. His eyes bore into the floor, avoiding Tadashi altogether as they slid onto the bed, stack of papers and two pens in hand in Tadashi's hand.
"So, let's start with the top article first," he said, trailing off as he separated out their copies.
"What are we going over exactly?"
Letting out a shaky sigh, Tadashi placed something in Kei's lap and already pulled the paper to his face.
"I did want to discuss safety measures and expectations, but there's more information in here just for general exploration. I believe..."
Brain shifting into autopilot, Tadashi's voice faded as Kei retreated into his mind. If he had to reread through the articles, then so be it. He nodded along, rifling through what he received. The air of professionalism allowed him to stuff his nervousness behind pre-established rituals and routines. He understood the gist of this dynamic even when only half-attentive - consent, check-ins and the very clear notion that this would be an intimate, non-exclusive relationship that involved no romance or sex.
He still felt instant relief at the clear bounds of this contract, though questions about contingency plans and what-ifs broke through his solace. Without realizing, he scowled at the inner voice, stopping Tadashi mid-sentence.
"Did I say something weird?" he said, concerned.
Kei's flickered up to face a flushed Tadashi and shook his head, embarrassed that he showed a reaction at all.
"No, keep going."
"As I was saying, what are you hoping to get out of this and do you want me to ask every session?" Tadashi replied, looking up from his paper.
It was to be expected that the amount of care going into this required Kei's active participation. Perhaps the grimace was an appropriate response at being asked what he expected after all; what more could he say other than this was mere impulse and he planned on cutting it off right before the sessions started.
After a few long moments, Kei replied, "Well, I want to help you get better at something that means a lot to you."
He scraped his nails against his palm, pricks of pain bringing about a familiar comfort. Tadashi, pulling him out of head, clasped his hand's over Kei's with a tentative smile.
"I really do appreciate that and know we can stop whenever you want, in session or after, before even. Just talk to me, okay?" Tadashi reassured, expression soft. Kei wondered if that was Tadashi presenting him an opening. The space given looked like just enough for him to set down an admission, but in his heart, squeezing into that moment, in that instant made bile rise in his throat. His eyes caught a distraction in the form of an unexpected article.
"Of course, but do we have to go over this... kink checklist? It seems unnecessary," he quipped, hoping his light tone would obscure the thoughts whirring past his brain at lightning speed.
A blush bloomed across Tadashi's face, and he did his best to not smirk at such a reaction.
"What? This? Oh god, there's a lot of interesting explorations that we can incorporate in our sessions. I want to understand your limits, but it's weird, isn't it?" Tadashi replied, panic clear in his face.
"Yeah, it is," Kei deadpanned, "but whatever you included it, so I'll look it over."
Tadashi buried his face in his hands for a moment before he continued to the next piece. Unceremoniously, the opportunity to pull out washed away. A time where he could bear the entirety of his heart existed not to him, and he swallowed down the inevitably of dying having never said anything. Not a pause nor a path forward, beyond a contract. He pushed his thoughts away and tried again to focus, mind ringing.
As soon as Tadashi exited his room, stating that he needed to follow through with a planned weekend lunch with his coworkers, Kei buried his face into the bedsheets. The warmth from Tadashi lingered, and he retreated into his en suite bathroom to douse himself in a cold shower.
His heart fluttered at the amount of care and attention even if he knew Tadashi would take these steps with anyone. Five days until their first session. He counted down the hours, dreading and elated at the prospect of the event. Not wanting to further ponder, Kei stood under the freezing water. There would be plenty of reminders and weird off-hand comments made by the worst parts of himself regarding this subject; he was sure of it.
--------☆
On Tadashi's insistence, each of their sessions began with full-body stretches and hydrating. The structure of routine comforted him, but the novelty of this dynamic outweighed any familiarity.
Kei sat on the bedroom floor legs in a wide V-shape, bringing his body to his side. He put his feet straight out in front of him and folded forward, bringing his forehead to his knees before moving on to the next set. As he went through each stretch, he did his best to hide his scrutinizing stare.
Just a few feet away, Tadashi laid out sets of brightly colored rope along, more than Kei anticipated or felt necessary. Absentmindedly, he reasoned with himself at the possibilities. They discussed options of the first tie, given both of their experience, but he asked Tadashi to choose in the end. The other objects remained out of his view and understanding; he placed trust in Tadashi, in the choices, plan, and in the feelings outside of his awareness. Even after falling back on everything he learned in secret, Kei felt two feet tall as he stared down this newfound intimacy.
"Did you finish?" Tadashi said, turning around.
Kei hummed as he put his arm down and adjusted his legs to stand, but Tadashi raised his hand.
"Not so fast, let's start on the ground for now. There's more room for both of us," he said.
Kei clicked his tongued but remain seated anyway. He wasn't one to argue especially given the fact Tadashi did clear that space for them. Anxiety rumbled in his chest, making him shuffle around until he ended up with his hands in his lap. With two bundles of purple rope in his hand, Tadashi sat on his knees behind Kei, brushing his lower back.
"Color?"
"What are you talking about?" Kei replied.
"The traffic light system, you know, the thing we agreed on," Tadashi said, leaning back on his hands to put space between them. Kei scoffed, face petulant and out of view.
"Green, obviously."
To his disappointment, Tadashi ignored the snark and rose on his knees, draping his chest across Kei's back. Stray strands of hair tickled his neck as they leaned forward together, and he did his best to keep himself as upright against the weight. He knew Tadashi's body, held it before, slept next to it, but for the first time he truly became aware of the heat he radiated.
The slide of jute across his chest combined with Tadashi's body on him drew out an unexpected gasp. He clamped his teeth down on his lip to stop more sounds from escaping, but Tadashi ran his fingers along each inch of rope placed down, pulling it taut. With his other hand, he traced up the slope of Kei's shoulders, all the way to the side of his neck, gently guiding him to rest his head back. In a desperate attempt for control, he fought the melting feeling stealing his body. From the all-encompassing embrace, he held onto his breath; fear followed the comfort, discontent at the very thought of releasing the white-knuckle grip. Relinquishing such power hurled him toward all the possible reactions and unfiltered thoughts pouring out.
"Hey there," Tadashi murmured into Kei's ear, "take a deep breath."
He obeyed with a cautious inhale and an even slower exhale, one heartbeat at a time.
"Again."
Warmth seeped through his chest, gently pushing out the unease. Another wave of anxiety crashed into him as soon as his grip loosened, and the tension washed up into his body. Tadashi pulled the rope through the slipknot, the pressure wrapping firmly around Kei's sternum. In deep breaths, the comfort of constraints and a sweet woody scent permeated his senses, pulling him underwater. He focused on the smell of cedar, the way it melted into something softer, sweeter and more familiar. His body acted accordingly and chased into what was known. The cord weaving under one another, sound of jute slipping over cotton until it could be placed on another shoulder. The rustle and smoothing of his shirt as soon as another path of rope was laid down. The smell of green fields and purple florals, of sunshine and of inexplicable warmth.
Even without seeing, Kei felt Tadashi smile against his temple, tie taking shape around his chest.
He dialed into the way his body moved under restriction, the rest of his limbs thawing to the warm hands and dampness forming between his skin and shirt. Slowly, Tadashi rocked him back and forth, his body softening even further. The more restrained his torso became, the more his body went limp under Tadashi's grasp and scent. The security of his chest and the steady heartbeats lulled Kei's brain to float away just enough to relax.
Tadashi emanated warmth, and he ran fingers in tandem with each new path circling Kei, each brush of the hand setting him further adrift from conscience.
Even as Tadashi flooded each sense, all the negative thoughts hung around the peripherals of his mind, threatening his relaxation. They swam their way upstream to the shore, whispering all the futures of Tadashi wrapping strangers in such relief and enjoyment. People, Kei knew, that had more experience of giving in; people whose feedback would be more useful, more helpful for Tadashi's improvement. A dull pain rose in his chest, thrashing against the restraints. Hoping to escape, a riptide pulled him in and forced saltwater into him, crawling down his throat until the acrid taste filled his mouth.
He wanted now to float, hoping futility to be saved by Tadashi.
"Kei, color?"
"Green," Kei replied, voice quiet.
Tadashi cradled his head and pushed his body down on his side, sliding his arms to rest on the small of his back. The ground reached through its flat planes and pulled him out of the water. His blond hair splayed under him and caressed his cheeks to soothe him further, and a weightlessness settled into the rest of his body as he regained his breath. Tadashi guided Kei's hands into a prayer, palms flat against one another. For a minute, he thought himself offering supplication and gratitude at having been saved; except it was not sabbath, and the only place he felt such holiness was in the confines of Tadashi's work.
His eyes fluttered shut as rope slipped between his fingers. A blush crept onto his cheeks, imagination running to the idea of Tadashi's hands intertwining with his in place of the coarse material. The thought disappeared as quickly as it came and left Kei to float alone in his mind. He squirmed against the confines in hopes his feet would find some solid ground; instead, he felt more movement in his arms than anticipated. Tadashi repositioned Kei's hands to hold his forearms, providing more security.
He let out a sigh as the constraints tightened, completely swept off the ground. All of his useless theorizing on a future washed away in the slow tide and his body turned pliant held within the cords. Having all this mental space let Kei carve a space in the feel of the hardwood and the smell of the floor cleaner used earlier that day. Its citrus notes permeated his mind, mixing in with the smell of the rope and something he could only describe as simply Tadashi - the scent that invaded his senses when they tangled their legs on the couch or when they shared beds time and time again, though much less often than they did now as adults.
Minutes or hours passed through the two of them, and Kei felt boneless. He trusted himself to the the hold in which Tadashi wrapped him, to Tadashi's fiery hands, to the hardwood and cedar smell that provided a soft bed for Kei's worries.
Those hands slipped between the space between the rope and Kei's shirt, dragging fire through every inch. For the second time, he sucked in a sharp breath, toes curling as a touch whispered below his pecs and all the way around the middle of his back. Regret bubbled up in his brain, wishing away the thin cotton barrier that barred access to his skin. Through his clothes, Tadashi drew small circles along the spaces untouched by the jute, all the way up to Kei's collar and exposed neck, and his defenses crumbled as fingertips caressed the space under his ears. Had he always been so sensitive there? How many parts of his body would light on fire from acknowledgement alone? The ringing alarm bells in his head sounded so far away, moving even further as the touches expanded and grazed down the small of his back and the trimmed hair on the nape of his neck.
Something solid as it was soft slid under Kei's head, providing a needed resting place. The plush feeling of Tadashi's thigh melted Kei further, inching closer to leaving his body altogether. Fingers threaded through his hair, brushing strands out of his face and eyes. His once askew glasses were removed by a gentle touch, the sound of them closing just out of his reach.
A whisper of disappointment bit at his cheeks, a knowing that such relief was temporary. Even in the throes of his enjoyment, hunger pangs dragged Kei out of his weightlessness and reminded him of how much more he craved. Tadashi massaged along the length of Kei's body, leaving a searing path all the way down to his ribcage.
"Relax, Kei, I got you."
Negative feelings ebbed through every touch across his face. The room floated far, far away, and he watched horizon shrink, adrift in his mind. Tadashi disarmed him, plucked everyone one of his defenses until he laid vulnerable; the only thing he could register against his cheek was the sea of fabric blocking him from feeling bare thighs. He imagined the expanse of freckles and how they would glimmer in the warm light, an invitation to count them the way he would stars. The binding on Kei's arms slipped away as he closed his eyes, unmoving from his position, and something, no, someone soothed his free arm down. More rustling and movement happened without his attention, rope shimmied up his side and fell away from his body. Even without the restraints, warmth wrapped around his body and sunk into him, and he pressed himself against it.
Kei failed to notice how he moved positions, instead lavishing in the comfort surrounding him. Entering the forest through smell alone, all the plans he swore to himself before this fell away, and if it meant breaking away from this feeling, he could do without them.
"I have to get you some water, can you go on the bed for me?" that voice said.
He let his body sink to the floor. Minutes or hours later, he felt his head lift and something cool touch his lips.
"Tsukki, water, come on you need it."
With no choice but to obey, he opened his mouth just enough to take a few sips; stray drops slid down his chin.
"How are you feeling?"
Kei hummed in place of a real answer, body too soft to form words. The warmth wrapped around him felt too good, and he leaned into it, unable to process the sweet whispers and caresses that followed the question.
--------☆
To his surprise, Kei forwent his initial plans of stopping their sessions after the first one.
Relief and stress blended in his body at the thought of their dynamic, muddling his recollection of how it was before everything started. They already ate meals, watched shows, frequented bars and conversed about their days together; the ease in which they mixed intimacy unnerved him.
Tadashi sent texts for Kei's opinion on ties during random hours, and Kei did his best to reply thoughtfully and casually. Admitting aloud the research he did for terminology, ties and explicit wants posed too much of a challenge; instead, he demonstrated what he learned through obedience, in letting out soft sounds and his body fall apart at Tadashi's touch. Through those moments, small admissions of his reciprocation showed; though he always hoped it would go noticed without comment. Relief found him then.
A couple months after their sessions and infinite, irritating questions from his inner saboteur, he discovered an exposed nerve, thorns stuck in his sides. Despite his efforts to clean the wound, he found the cut growing deeper and deeper.
The pain intensified through the start of volleyball season - during session cancellations for promotional photos, or when Tadashi arrived late to an exhibition match a week before the season kicked off, or the time Tadashi blew off their dinner plans altogether with no explanation. Trepidation pressed down on every cut left by all the time alone.
One Saturday, the two prepared lunch in a companionable quiet, music playing through Tadashi's phone.
"Why?" Kei said, breaking the silence
"Why what?" Tadashi replied, eyes on the cutting board.
"Why... to any of it. Why did you start doing this?"
Asking such a question months into their arrangement allowed Kei to feign objectivity; he practiced this conversation in his head over and over and only now tripped into the courage to initiate. In this mind, it always ended in discontent, knowing just how to press into his wounds.
Tadashi paused chopping the vegetables to stare off wistfully. Kei glanced over as he moved across their kitchen, drying the noodles on a clean bowl and counting the seconds ticking around them.
"It just happened is all," Tadashi answered.
He expected such unsatisfying earnestness. Among Tadashi's best qualities, his pursuit of interests with careful deliberation proved to be one of Kei's favorites, yet in this moment, he felt only irritation.
"So, is this just something you want to do with strangers? How are you so comfortable knowing you'll do this with people you barely know?"
Kei cut himself off, his desires dying in this throat. If Tadashi knew, he brushed off what was left unspoken in favor of answering the plainly stated questions.
"It's not about that; it's about taking risks for what I want," Tadashi said.
"And what would that be?" Kei replied with more bite than he wanted.
Tadashi met Kei's eyes, resolve clear in his expression, "to make myself happy. Is that enough for you?"
They finished putting together their lunch without another word, eating in tense silence.
Kei mulled over the entire interaction as he moved the food around his plate, taking small bites when he remembered the point of the activity. Every replay zoomed further into Tadashi's expression, his steady voice, and the naked admission of it all, and he wondered what such happiness would entail. Was it a future without Kei? Was it someone who shared the same level of interest and engagement? Something ugly reared its head the further he spiraled; at first, Kei ignored the weight of the singularity pulling him deeper into his brain, preferring to forgo any reasonable explanations to the feelings. Gravity did all the work and stretched out every single worry until its mass became nothing; he convinced himself of it over and over again until it evaporated.
As if sensing Kei's current agony, Tadashi broke through the quiet as he cleared their dishes from the table.
"What are you doing for the rest of the today?"
Snapping out of his haze, Kei blinked up at him. Whatever disoriented him fell away the longer his eyes trailed Tadashi's form, washing away all the thoughts that engulfed him and ate away at his skin.
"Chores and a call with the team to discuss our next few games in a couple hours," he replied.
"Oh! Okay, maybe another time then," Tadashi said, grabbing his phone when he finished cleaning.
The lack of explanation lead him into another black hole. Withheld plans conveniently kept out of the conversation dominated his brain, and the ease in which he dropped the subject stuck more thorns in his side. Asking meant learning more information that gouged into his already sinking heart; ignoring acted as a temporary defense.
"Why did you ask?" he replied after a minute.
Tadashi turned to him, not bothering to look up from his screen.
"I wanted to pick up something for our session next week, but if you're busy, it's fine."
Upon processing his statement, Kei pulled his lips into a tight line to hide his scowl, and the thorns in his side dug deeper. Chores could wait. He glanced to the wall clock; even if he wanted to accompany Tadashi, the call was in less than two hours. Sighing in defeat, he waved his hand to Tadashi.
"Text me when you get there. Don't get lost."
Tadashi chuckled and gave a thumbs up before disappearing behind his bedroom door.
--------☆
The week leading up to their session, Kei drowned out every thought with copious amounts of work. Luckily for him, the new exhibit and extra practices provided more than enough busywork, letting him avoid the apartment as much as he could. He ate all his dinners before he got home; his absence went unnoticed, Tadashi greeting him from a cracked bedroom door each night. Whatever he prepared over the last few days occupied his time, and Kei walked past his doors to get some sneak peak.
He never saw it until the actual session.
Kei finished his stretches and inspected the new piece of furniture in Tadashi's room. The plush leather gleamed under the warm lamp light in the corner of the room, the dark wash of the wood complementing the rest of the décor. He wanted to ask where Tadashi planned on putting this after the session and if it was meant to be in their living room for their friends to sit on. The thought amused him.
"Are you sure you're comfortable with chair ties?"
If he were honest, it carried a sexual charge not present in their previous sessions. The other ties all felt intimate, but they all involved his entire body in closed position; he could close his eyes and claim plausible deniability of any involuntary reactions. When Tadashi showed him today's plan, he blushed at the mere exposure of it, especially with his usual outfit of a loose top and shorts. In place of a snarky comment, he gave a noncommittal hum.
"Yeah, let's do it."
The discomfort Tadashi performing this with another person outweighed the apprehension building in his body. He pushed the idea away and reminded himself that he was a good enough substitute in place of this conjured, hypothetical partner.
"We'll start on the ground," Tadashi informed him, sitting a few feet in front of the chair.
He patted the space between his legs as an invitation and smiled when Kei obeyed. Shudders crawled under his skin, Tadashi running warm hands up his folded legs and onto his hips, pointedly ignoring his middle. The sides of thighs and arms received the most attention, and goosebumps rose in the wake of soft caresses. Tadashi shimmied forward until he was nearly on Kei's lap; his touch traveled higher until they rested atop of Kei's spine. With a smooth pull downward, his forehead met Tadashi's neck, guided into a submissive bow. Hinoki and lavender flooded his senses, and he inhaled as deeply as he could, his shoulders sagging as he dove into the scent.
Tadashi repositioned Kei's arms behind him, guiding his hands to grasp at the meat of the forearm, the familiarity of it making his movements near automatic. All of his focus poured in discerning the individual notes of Tadashi, sweat and skin lacing itself through layers and layers of fragrance, of his shampoo, body wash, and the cologne Kei gifted him a few years ago on a birthday. He stood at the edge of his mind, lit aflame as he took deep breaths, convincing himself it was to calm his heart.
The slow slide of the jute served as a reminder of his flammable body, angled into an expanse of wood and warm and sugar. Tadashi pressed the side of his face into Kei's neck, and a soft exhale danced across his skin. The lack of space breathed life into Kei and stole his heartbeats all the same. Even with the speed and muscle memory built through their time together, he appreciated the methodical and leisurely approach Tadashi employed through his ties. His fingers slipped under the bindings in Kei's arm as a reassurance that he had enough blood flow; in response, Kei flexed his fingers and mumbled into Tadashi's skin to keep going.
When anxiety spread in his body, he calculated the shapes Tadashi created on his body until his brain relinquished into the feeling of being adrift.
The flow of constant analyzing ebbed as Kei let go into the feeling. It happened through each session, but he stood in his own consciousness, too aware of the the slowness of Tadashi's hands. As a punishment, he wondered how desperate he looked under such a hold and if Tadashi would hold up a mirror to show him his pathetic face. If he begged, then maybe he could be granted such a thing; instead, he kept his mouth shut.
Tadashi traced up the contours of Kei's back, drawing out sharp gasps from the contact. As if being rewarded, they intertwined, skin on skin and hand gripping at his hair. He felt as delicate as porcelain, smaller than a man of his stature should feel, and he let out a soft moan at being handled as such. A palpitation cracked through his chest and reminded him that he was alive. Worry followed; he chased disappointment when he withheld the fragility of his body under Tadashi's grasp. Tadashi knew, and he only tightened his grasp as they met eyes.
The woody scent engulfed him as he mapped Tadashi's face, and for once, Kei could not read him. Through a half-lidded gaze, he took note the blooming red under tawny freckles that betrayed such a neutral expression. He marked the flecks in Tadashi's amber eyes, wishing they stay suspended in this moment forever. Unchanging, unmoving and fossilized; an unknowing outsider to confirm the undeniability of their intertwined existence. Pleasure and power flitted through Tadashi's face and dissipated just as quickly.
Still maintaining eye contact, Tadashi rose to his feet and straightened Kei's spine in one motion. Warmth bloomed at his chest, Tadashi's other hand gripping the single pass of rope laying across it.
"Stand up and walk backward, one step at a time," Tadashi commanded, voice gentle.
Kei obeyed and let Tadashi adjust his hold; the temporary loss of his hands served as a reminder of his hollowness. Under Tadashi's scrutinizing gaze, Kei took cautious steps until his leg brushed something hard, and he sunk down an uncomfortable amount until he fully sat in the low chair. Tadashi pushed Kei as far back as he could, smug look across his face. What he least expected was hands under his thighs to pull his hips forward and fold his legs into his chest until the back of his knees found purchase on the chair arms.
"Color?" Tadashi said as he moved away for more rope.
"Green," Kei gasped.
He lavished and appreciated the discomfort of such a position, melting against the unease and in Tadashi unraveling all the things that brought him enjoyment. No less than two seconds later did he appear between Kei's legs. His breath hitched in his throat, and from this angle he prayed that his body held onto every last bit of control to disguise his overwhelming arousal.
Ever the mind reader, Tadashi's knuckles grazed Kei's feet. Jolts of a strange pleasure traveled up and between his legs, and it punched the remaining air out his lungs. Tadashi glanced up, and Kei knew just from expression alone what was being asked of him.
"Keep going," he sighed.
More of the unexpected washed over as Tadashi slipped fingers between Kei's toes and dug his thumb into the arch of his foot. Mortification crept up into his face at having been held here before his own hands, but the heat that pooled in his abdomen overrode his shame. Each stroke of his soles drew a clipped groan from him, embarrassed at his delight; his toes curled into Tadashi's hand at every pass. The unknown pleasure hijacked his brain, his plan to conceal discarded through each flicker of heat. Tadashi released his hold before running his dull nails along Kei's leg to wake up the rest of his body. His breath faltered and toes curled again when he felt the same motion on the other side.
His screwed his eyes, unable to hide himself, intensity of each stroke exposing his starvation. Being at Tadashi's mercy meant awaiting his permission to feed, but he hoped in secret to be left without as he deserved. Desire to be acknowledge gnawed at his brain, but a deeper, older fear begged to be ignored.
The rope circled his thigh first before Tadashi wrapped the jute around the chair for security. With the remaining length, he wound it around the space above Kei's ankle, immobilizing that leg entirely. Alarm laced itself with discomfort inside Kei's body; Tadashi unraveled him with every pull of the restraint and peeled back every layer with a touch. Kei's other leg received the same treatment, fixed to the furniture. He strained against the ropes, against his brain set ablaze with suppressed hunger, against the craving that persisted long after their sessions. The familiar heat on his back felt not of Tadashi's skin but of the leather trapping body heat that convinced him that was enough. If he opened his mouth now to beg, it only showed his hand; he refused loss and wanted defeat in the same measure.
His breath labored, and sweat broke on his forehead. He anticipated to drift far away from the mental tension while being so compromised; it was routine, it was expected, it was what he knew to be. His body turned featherlight under these circumstances, but he remained fully in his senses.
Worst of all, his brain anchored itself into the ground, into his desire. He burned in all the wrong ways, craved too much, threw himself into the inferno his own stubbornness, and he knew. He knew when his eyes traveled up to Tadashi's lips, he doomed himself. Perhaps his future was doomed from their first session, the first time admiration shook him out of neutrality as teenagers, or the first time he invited him over to his house and understood him as a friend.
Static and fire fought in his body for claim; he sat on the sidelines for something, someone to save him from sinking. Blood rushed in his ears and he imagined what Tadashi's face would look like had he let go of this dominating role, should Kei ever have he privilege of witnessing it. He knew better, and accepted the enduring hunger.
"Tsukki?"
"Green, green, please," Kei begged.
Tadashi paused before musing, "what do you want, Kei?"
"Whatever you can give me."
What he wanted and what he expected differed too much for him to be satisfied fully; what he received had to be enough. Tadashi stood up and pressed his heel against the inside of Kei's leg, earning a sharp gasp. He welcomed the slide of Tadashi's bare foot against the expanse of his inner thigh, panting without even realizing. He pleaded silently for more. If he bore no onus, then he secured an escape despite having been entirely confined to a chair. Even if what he wanted was to be caught in Tadashi's cage and be beautiful for him. Kei wanted more, more, more, he needed more.
To his surprise, Tadashi brought himself inches from his face, breath mingling in the space between them. Kei steeled himself in the fact the rope limited his ability to move; he stared at Tadashi with the same insistence for him, asking him to move. The smell of their combined sweat caught Kei off guard, eyes fluttering as he inhaled. For a moment, he opened his mouth in hopes that his desires would tumble out unfiltered. Nothing came.
Tadashi pulled away; Kei tightened his jaw at the sudden distance. The cracks in his chest grew until he saw inside of himself, the burning of his body left piles of ash in its wake. From a seated position, Tadashi fiddled with the end of the rope, undoing his meticulous ties with a quickness.
"Let's stop here," Tadashi said, avoiding Kei's eyes.
--------☆
More than the restraint itself, Kei resigned his most vulnerable state in the deviation from their planned practice, starting from an unstructured flow. The gentleness and command Tadashi embodied as they transitioned through scenes swallowed Kei until he became a bundle of nerves and breathy moans.
They began the same way every time; Tadashi's touch, while soft, felt rigid and he relegated all his focus into strict instructions that he spent memorizing through the two weeks between sessions. The pauses between positions and adjustments demonstrated his need to follow a blueprint, one he spent days curating. Tadashi's hands had less time to touch in the first half, and the nervousness added an unnecessary tension between the two, not present their first time. Kei melted into the shared heat of their bodies all the same.
--------☆
Kei's next away game lined up just in time for him to slip out of their apartment unnoticed less than twelve hours after their session. Tadashi went through the motion of aftercare; the gentle caresses and check-in questions muddled all clarity. He despised the invisible barrier erected sometime in between the deviation of the plan and his less than silent begging. Pointing it out only built the walls higher on both sides. The sun filtered through train windows, Sendai's scenery fading in a blur. Being outside their home and on the court seemed like a good idea; he could lose himself in practiced motions.
For nearly two decades, Kei found relief in the familiarity of the sport, the feel of hard leather against his palms with each block, and the team that twittered around him during practices and games. Only routine remained, even as he entered professional leagues and the nature of penalties and exercises sharpened to more experienced opponents. He adjusted with difficulty to all the minute changes of teammates, coaches, and fans. Tadashi's cheering face provided a grounding constant, kept him sane even during the most brutal away games where he collapsed on hotel beds after matches, post-game interviews and promotional activities. His friend held no obligation in attending, especially when it required several hours of travel via train or cars. Still, it kept him from losing it entirely when the pressure mounted against him during crucial serves or when his team faced match point.
Regardless of Tadashi's attendance or lack thereof this time, Kei's hunger finally eroded him enough to break him clean in half. He prayed that by the time he got on the court, muscle memory kicked in, allowing everything to fall away in a precise concentration. Instead, Tadashi's face haunted him through every painful point earned though all three sets, pushing him off-kilter.
By the time he got a handle on himself, Kyoutani kicked at his temporary locker, startling him out of a mile-long stare.
"Come on, we're going outside," Kyoutani ordered, pack of cigarettes in hand.
Kei followed him in hopes that maybe his teammate could impart enough wisdom to pull him out of whatever funk he drowned in. The end of autumn air nipped at his face as they rounded the building's corner, and he pulled his jacket collar higher around his cheeks. He cursed the thin material of his sport's jacket, noting that he should pack something more substantial for their next away game. Flicks of a lighter caught Kei's attention, and he swiveled his head toward his teammate.
"You sucked out there today," Kyoutani said after he took a drag, "and your head's not in it. Why?"
That was more words than he regularly spoke after a game. Between the two of them, they preferred nonverbal exchanges and polite nods even on their off-time; Kei liked it that way. Kyoutani held out his lit cigarette as an offer, and Kei declined with a wave of his hand.
"I know," he replied, sinking against the wall.
He expected to be on the receiving end of some far-off vitriol or reprimand, both which seemed deserved. When no follow-up statement came, he tossed Kyoutani a quizzical look. His teammate ignored him and took a few more hits, letting more silence settle between them.
"You don't have to explain yourself, I just wanted you to know that you played badly today," he said.
Kei grimaced. What was he meant to say? Despite Kyoutani's coarse reassurance, he appreciated the honesty in today's performance. Against his better judgment, he let an admission slip through his high walls.
"Eat a dick," he paused for a moment before continuing, "Tadashi started tying me up."
Kyoutani choked mid-inhale, smacking his chest to reset his breathing. Immediately, regret washed over Kei, and he braced himself to be on the receiving end of someone's pity or questioning, even if it was entirely self-inflicted.
"You're joking?"
Kei leered at him in place of a response.
"I mean whatever. Congrats on finally bagging him, if that's what you mean. I still don't get it," Kyoutani said through a coughing fit.
"What?"
Kei stared back shocked, all the words stolen out from under him; Kyoutani returned the same confusion in his expression.
"On getting together with him? Come on, you have to know what bagging someone means."
"I never said anything about us being together," Kei snipped back, snatching the cigarette out of Kyoutani's hand.
The cool taste of the menthol coated Kei's mouth. He took another long drag before sliding it back between Kyoutani's fingers. Silence filled the space between them, and he prayed it stayed that way.
If there were questions, he had no coherent answers; all he understood was how often he felt pain, despite their growing intimacy. Every time Tadashi mentioned a few places in Sendai where he could frequent or even taking a trip up to Tokyo once he felt more comfortable in showing off his skills, his heart cracked ever so slightly. The nasty idea of being his experiment stuck in all the wrong places of Kei's body, and it accompanied him through every waking moment.
"Oh," Kyoutani nodded, "so why'd you agree to it? Just for fun? You don't seem like the kind of person." He threw the filter on the ground and stomped out the ember with his boot.
"It's not entirely outside my interests," Kei started, "it happened on a whim. Nothing more."
Most people took the practiced nonchalance as the end of a conversation.
It let him get away with more than he should've, and he wondered if the reason that Tadashi remained so close was because of how often he saw through it. He knew when it was best to step back or when to push forward; Kyoutani was different, awareness of all their similarities made more obvious whenever they spoke.
"Are you happy with that?"
No.
"Why would I be doing it otherwise?"
Kyoutani did a once over before chuckling, "You tell me, Tsukishima. You're smart enough to figure it out, and you never answered my question."
Kei scoffed and stood up.
"Let's just go back inside," Kei replied, walking toward the back entrance.
The sound of footsteps followed his own.
Admitting that aloud required uprooting a foundation built over two decades. Worse than acknowledging the fleeting moments of desire was knowing that Tadashi could stop their newfound intimacy and their friendship altogether.
Somewhere in the packets he gave Kei before they even started, an article about open communication and the importance of difficult conversations haunted him. When they went over that particular piece, he scoffed and threw it behind him. Tadashi gave an impromptu lecture about how the entire dynamic required a level of honesty and depth to be functional. Kei nodded along and thought of all the ways he could shove his feelings down.
Kei's phone buzzed, and he rolled over in his hotel bed, tucked under a mountain of blankets. The bright screen lit up the pitch black room, even with his lengthy bedtime ritual and a white noise machine, sleep evaded him.
[00:30] Koganegawa >> Don't forget early breakfast with the team! We were thinking of g...[01:47] Yamaguchi >> Someone got back to me for rigging practice! What do you think I sho...
Kei chucked his phone across the room, not bothering to read past the message previews.
As the sun broke through the horizon, he awoke to his heart jumping out of his chest and vomit crawling up his throat. Hot tears spilled out of him in his sleep, staining his face; he sat up, eyes gazing into the nothingness of his room. Light trickled in through the curtains, and exhaustion pacified him enough to sleep for another hour.
--------☆
When he returned home from the longest weekend of his life, Kei dropped his bags at the door before collapsing on the couch. Not bothering to sit up, he stripped himself of his outside clothes and cared not that it was more work for him to contort his body in strange ways to get it done.
A single kitchen light illuminated the shared space, and the whir of the heater droned in the background. He missed the stirring coming from Tadashi's bedroom and the click of an opening door, revealing Tadashi with damp hair and sweats. Kei draped an arm over his head, feigning sleep so he could ignore his best friend.
"Welcome home, Tsukki," Tadashi greeted, sliding under his legs.
Kei stirred out of his pretend sleep, giving a halfhearted wave. He knew he'd have to speak eventually, but to what end, he ignored.
"I didn't know you'd come home early, you usually call."
His heart rate picked up as caresses traveled up his ankle.
"Sorry, I got really busy on the way back, drinks with the team," Kei lied, shifting his body away from Tadashi.
"I'm glad you made it home safely," Tadashi started. "Did you see my text?"
Less than five minutes since he came back home, and the worst parts of his weekend continued.
"I did."
"So, what do you think?"
That he would rather die thank have Tadashi share time and intimacy with another person. That the mere thought of someone coming into their home to be touched in the ways he had or Tadashi going to their place made him want to disappear. That he would rather evaporate into thin air right now than worsen whatever was happening between them.
"Please don't ask me questions for which you aren't prepared to hear the answer," Kei hissed.
Tadashi snapped his head to face him. Confusion and hurt danced along his entire face, and he pushed Kei away. The space between them outstretched for miles, keeping them apart; he hated their proximity.
"I went too far our last session, and I'm sorry. I just," Tadashi started and faltered.
Kei balked at the apology, finally sitting up. His furrowed brow and nails scraping at a a newly formed scab gave away his annoyance, but Tadashi stared straight into him. Undeterred from the tension, he returned with a glower of his own.
"That's why you're saying sorry? Not the fact you ignored how I felt?"
Once Kei started down this road, unfiltered thoughts rushed to the finish line for defeat. The enormity of his emotions slammed against every wall he built, each hit letting his anger seep into every crack.
"You of all people know me best, so why? Are you tired of me - is, is, is that why you're looking for other people? Are you tired of me?"
His voice breaking and the trembling of his body felt unbecoming, a total stranger taking up his space. Humiliation burst in this throat, and he withdrew, pulling knees to chest as best as someone his size could. All the water rushing out the breaking dam choked him, and the urge to do something, anything screamed at every part of his body. Run away, escape to his room, scream without reason, speak more of the unspeakable, the sheer volume of alarm drowned him.
"What are you talking about?" Tadashi cut through his mind.
"The reason you're looking for other people is to replace me, right?" Kei shot back.
"How could you even say that?"
Kei created plans on plans for how to deal with rejection and shame, but seeing Tadashi fall apart with him after everything? He scoffed, incredulous.
"Tell me the truth." he hissed.
"You're putting words in my mouth instead of saying what you want," Tadashi replied, voice colder and steadier than before.
The truth stared Kei in the face, and he wanted to evaporate on the spot. He wanted to disappear knowing that he'd been so obvious; he wanted to bolt out the door and wear avoidance as the most comfortable constraint.
"You know it's your fault for agreeing to this. This whole arrangement."
When he finally looked up, Tadashi stared at him with unfiltered horror, and Kei returned a look equally as haunting. The quietness of their exchange terrified him, and he wished instead he received Tadashi's malice.
"Wait, I didn't mean it in that way,"
"I think you did," Tadashi said, turning away from him.
The culmination of his self-control crumbled in a single-sentence admission, committing himself to a self-inflicted hell. With a swing of an axe, he sentenced their future into an unknown that Kei knew not what to do or how to proceed.
"No, it's not- sorry, you don't get it at all," Kei said.
"Then explain yourself," Tadashi goaded.
"I... I just want you all to myself."
Kei knew it was the wrong thing to say, and the enormity of his mistake weighed on him as Tadashi stood up and faced away from him.
"I'm sorry, but, I," Tadashi throat bobbed as he swallowed, "I can't look at you right now." He disappeared into his room before Kei could protest, leaving him to starve. The abyss at Tadashi's door stared back at him.
--------☆
Being correct only felt as satisfying as the results, and Kei was no stranger to gloating and parading his impeccable foresight. He relished being right when he could wield a smug attitude, establishing his mental prowess. When he successfully predicted his lack of power, he longed for ignorance so he could disregard all the ways he contributed to his own failure. The resentment in his own poor decision-making grew, even if he only saw the alternatives options in hindsight.
Harder than unearthing his desire was watching Tadashi slip into his room every night without so much a glance his way. At first, he believed it to be an accident, a mere consequence of a busy work day; until it happened day after day, the entire week following that. Still, he chose to sit in the common spaces of their apartment. He daydreamed about shirking blame the second they picked up conversation again rather than accept reality. He prepared statements on how he played his part in communicating, despite the fact everything he said was nothing more than last-ditch effort to save himself.
Biding his time only worked for two days, before he tortured himself into staying up all nigh, running through imaginary scenarios until sunrise. For a week, he ran on coffee and flesh-eating embarrassment. In that time, he asked himself repeatedly if Tadashi was even kind enough to forgive him, should they speak again; another, much quieter voice followed, hopeful and dopey about the slim possibility of becoming more than just childhood friends. With a cruel scowl, he chased that part of him away.
Flashes of an optimistic past appeared in his mind, beckoning him in a mirage where Tadashi forwent his original plans and fell into his arms without contention. The thought choked him, not in sweetness, but in his own audacity. Humiliation slept in his bed and offered him a spot of 'best friend', if the conversation went sideways. It'd be easier if knowing the future eased Kei's hunger Kei, desire sinking deep into his body, but the convenience of the lie only went skin-deep. Instead, he sought refuge in the deep well of what-ifs, clinging to the warmth.
--------☆
"Hey, are you free today to meet?"
Tadashi let the buzz of the call drone into his ear, unable to speak.
"Hello?"
"Sorry, I'm a little distracted," he trailed off in this thoughts before he continued, "I'm busy through the rest of the week. Can we take a rain check, and I'll text you when my schedule lightens up?"
A scoff comes through before the person responded, "Look, if you don't want to do this, we can just forget about this whole thing."
He took a beat, "yeah, okay, that'd be nice. If anything changes I'll let you know, I'm sorry again, I promise it's not you."
"Right. Whatever, Yamaguchi, take care."
Tadashi buried his head in his hands and groaned, exasperation running through his brain; he wanted to feel bad for blowing this person off again, especially when they could see through his constant rescheduling. Unsuccessfully, he repeated this same process over the last month, hoping he would gain some desire to continue planning. Dropping them altogether was nothing more than accepting an inevitability.
Every waking hour, Kei's faced haunted him. The heartbreak clear on his face, the littleness in his voice, the way his shoulders sagged; all of it dragged in Tadashi's mind. Worse was when he remembered the blame and the guilt that danced alongside it, gifted from Kei. Pangs of hurt rang through his chest, and sharing a space became near impossible. Even after a week, he felt no closer to an answer; the separation burdened him as much as the idea of bridging a gap.
Replacing that hollowness with a potential practice partner brought him nothing but panic. In his worst moments, Kei's logic and desire for the concrete sliced through his concerns and worries with ease, and Tadashi found comfort in the honesty he provided. Now, he shifted around his bed, discontent running havoc on his nerves.
He scrolled down his contact list; the call rang twice before he heard a voice.
"Tadashi-kun?"
"Hi, Yacchan, how are you?" he replied, a prickling behind his eyes.
"Good! Is something wrong? You usually text me before calling..."
"God, so much, but if you're busy though, it's okay. Let's talk another time."
"No, no! I have some free time. It must be really important. Are you and Tsukishima okay?"
He laughed at having been so obvious even after all these years. Was he that predictable or did the universe whisper secrets in her ear before he actually dialed? The latter amused him.
"Yeah, wait, no. No, not really, I think I messed up pretty bad."
So he spilled it to Hitoka, starting from the beginning and breaking that tacit agreement with his stranger of a coworker. In wanting to spare her some of the mental weight, he left out details of all the dreams containing Kei wrapped up in rope, only for the opportunity to land right on his lap. Instead, he told her about the months spent agonizing and tying up his best friend; how all of it slipped out of his hands. He hid his desires and spoke of his secret accounts and growing collection of inspiration pictures, to which she stammered through polite responses. Even with all that withheld details, he cut himself open in the recollection, bleeding from his chest.
"You could've called me sooner, you know. There's no judgment between the two of us, and you were even in Tokyo. Why didn't we hang out again?"
"You know how busy you get!" he replied, laughing through all the feelings caught in his throat. "I really should've though; maybe you could've talked some sense to me about the bar, or you know, anything else I said."
Hitoka took a few beats before she spoke agaom.
"So, what now? What's the last thing you said to him?"
Tadashi grimaced, shrinking in his bed at the thought of it, "something awful. That I couldn't look at him, and then I left."
"What? Left him alone?" The shrillness of her voice made him cringe at himself.
"That bad? Oh god," he panicked, breathing growing heavier.
"L-look, I don't think were wrong for agreeing or taking up the offer, but you should think about what you'll do next."
"Yeah. I just wish I knew what to do without ruining everything," he hesitated. Hitoka scoffed on the other line before laughing, and he couldn't help by smile.
"This is Tsukishima we're talking about, I don't think you could ever be irredeemable to him. I-I'm just saying you to take care of yourself, and him. That's all."
"I'm trying, I really am. I just hope he won't be at me forever."
"What are you talking about? It's only been a couple days, right?" she said, surprise evident.
"Try a week and a half."
"Tadashi-kun, a week? Oh my god I can't believe I'm feeling bad for him of all people. That's just mean!" Maybe Hitoka was right, but hearing her panic through the phone only made him cackle.
"In my defense, I needed the time."
"Oh, so you'll be talking to him today?"
Tadashi flushed and shook his head as if she could see, "No. I need more time-"
"Not that there's a rush, but sooner rather than later would be best for both of you. But I trust you, okay? Kanoka's trying to call me, so I have to go. You better send me updates!"
"Yes, of course. Say hi to her for me," he replied before hanging up.
Tadashi sprawled out on his bed and started at his bare ceiling, feeling in his chest noticeably lighter. All the time spent apart loomed over him, stared down at him as a reminder of how any more minutes wasted dawdling only pulled them further apart.
--------☆
Tadashi picked at stray pieces of lint on his pants, lost in worry that their planned session would fizzle out without so much as a conversation. Every fortnight, Kei abided by the ringing event reminder on their shared calendar. His leg bounced, shaking the bed and the floor under him as the clocked ticked. Fresh shower water dropped from his hair onto his usual collared shirt, towel thrown somewhere in the room. Whichever plan he went with depended wholly on Kei; maybe they could salvage a friendship even if they avoided another in the apartment. Getting past the awkwardness posed as less of a threat, but to burn away into nothing? He moved from his pants to picking at his bed.
A soft knock interrupted his thoughts, and he rushed to the door to crack it. Backlit by the warm glow of their kitchen, Kei's form shone, the details of his face hidden in the shadows. Tadashi stepped out of the way to let him inside, unable to look at his expression. More hurt spiked through his chest when Kei took a seat in last session's chair instead of stretching out on the floor. Even his outfit broke routine, a loose button up and slacks; Tadashi wanted to protest and ask what changed, but he knew. Instead, he sat in front of him, chewing on his bottom lip.
"Do you want this to end?" Kei said, tone distant and cold.
Tadashi's eyes widened, and he finally whipped his head up to Kei; perhaps it was foolish to expect anything besides a vacant look in his eyes.
"No," he replied. "No, I don't, I just needed space and some time to figure it out."
Explanations he practiced through the week faded into nothing when he spoke. Silence hung heavy in the air, choking them both under the pressure. Kei's face twisted into something akin to discontent.
"And? What did you find?" Kei said, eyes narrowing as they stared into one another.
"That I - I complicated the truth about this, about us."
Kei scoffed and turned away before speaking; Tadashi bit at the inside of his cheek to ground himself.
"So spell it out, what do you want?"
With a deep breath, Tadashi spoke with a shaky voice, "I'm still going to find practice groups so I can learn about performing."
"I understand," Kei replied.
Standing up, he turned away to keep his face out of view, and Tadashi, from his seated position, reached out for his hand.
"You didn't let me finish," he said, desperation in this voice and in his grip.
"There's nothing more to discuss, I'm happy that you're pursuing your interests. As long as we're still friends, right?"
His blank face and searing tone worked overtime to halt the conversation. Desperation to leave the room radiated in every direction, and Tadashi only held on tighter. With a gentle tug of his hand, he guided Kei back into the seat, sitting now between his outstretched legs.
"Will you let me finish?"
Kei shrugged, eyes fixed to the door. "If it helps you, I guess."
"None of this changes how I feel about you. How much I - I still want this, and you," Tadashi admitted, posture meek.
Kei snapped his head; the admission wore down his defenses, pleas cracking thru his icy stare. The tension between them melted the longer they stared at one another. Still, they searched one another's face as if to find something, whether it be thinly-veiled hesitation or a more whole truth lying beneath the surface. Everything he prepared fell short of the flooding of his senses, the absolute need that overtook him, his body, and his mind. The soft honey eyes in the glow of his room swallowed him whole, invited him to take his fill and then well past it.
"Please tell me you want this," Tadashi said, voice just above a whisper.
Leaning forward to bring their faces closer, Kei brushed his knuckles against Tadashi's cheek and traced all the way to the underside of his jaw. His pulse jumped at the touch, gentle and tentative. All he wanted to do was pull Kei down with him in the well of his mind, sink until they lost every barrier between their bodies. With his fluttering eyes, he pressed his face into Kei's touch; he needed more, more, more. Callous fingertips made their way to his lips, outlining their plushness before sinking past his teeth and onto his tongue, and he let it happen. His mouth parted, a silent invitation, and Kei pulled back. Tadashi steadied his vision, staring bewildered.
"I do, I really want you," Kei murmured.
He beckoned Tadashi up into his lap, and he obliged, slipping his legs around Kei's middle. Inches from each other's face, and their breaths mingled. Once again at the boundary, they stood still as their hearts danced together in an erratic pattern. Tadashi's desires flooded his being and reached to this throat, and he let his body dive. He wrapped shaky hands on Kei's face, thumbs running along soft skin before he slotted their mouths together.
As if being dipped into the sea, never did he feel a sense of renewal as he did in his moment while sharing their first kiss. Their first real kiss as an admission, a truth in how enraptured he had been with Kei, and the arms wrapped around him only confirmed the reciprocity in such feelings. He didn't need to know every crevice in these desires, just the simple fact that he no longer drifted in the sea alone, fulfilled him. Kei's hands grabbed at his back, hindered by a thin linen shirt. He wanted more than anything to lose himself in this moment, in unmeasured caresses that drove him out of his mind. Except he need not to abandon his plan, one he wanted to see through even if much of the details fell apart. Tadashi's hands carded through the hair at Kei's nape, eliciting a soft moan. He could swallow such beauty all day if he could, luxuriating in how it flowed from Kei's lips down his throat. With a firm tug back, Tadashi pulled away, taking in the shine and blush of freshly-kissed lips, and Kei whined at having been stopped.
"Why?" he said with indignation, and Tadashi had half a mind to forgo everything he prepared.
"Patience, I promise I'll make it worth your while," he replied, his other hand brushing blond strands out of his face.
With a soft kiss to Kei's forehead and release of his hair, Tadashi stood and walked back in one fluid motion, his practiced coordination coming in handy in not losing his cool. He studied Kei's confusion as he made away across the room.
"Color?"
The question made Kei visibly freeze in his seat as if he didn't expect the direction Tadashi took them.
"Green."
He smirked at the quickness of compliance before he tore his gaze away to grab everything from his closet. Doing his best to keep all the items out of plain view, he sauntered back to Kei and once again took a place on the ground in front of him. Before he could huff and puff about everything, Tadashi kissed a clothed knee.
"Do you trust me?" he said, pulling purple silk out from behind him.
His gaze flickered up, watching as Kei's gaze darted around in a feeble attempt to understand. Even through his analyzing, he nodded, though tentatively. Tadashi clicked his tongue in disapproval, still smirking.
"If you want something, you speak. That's reasonable, right?"
Through the glassy haze taking over Kei's eyes, a fire burned, swallowing his irises until they became nothing but a thin sliver of gold around a singularity. It beckoned him, promised submission from a mouth so well-versed in snarky comebacks and defensiveness, and he felt something snap.
"Yes, yes," Kei urged, body lurching forward to chase.
Tadashi pressed a hand to his chest, pushing his back to the plush leather. The rope in his other hand held promises, and Kei allowed his body to sink into the touch, eye contact unbroken. It started the same as it always did, instead today silk flowed across linen and pulled taut across Kei's chest and around the back of the chair. His hands laid flat on the top of his own thighs, and Tadashi, rising on his knees, peppered kisses along the rope pressed on Kei's sternum. Shudders erupted in Kei and his restrained hands gripped onto whatever fabric it could reach. With mercy, Tadashi soothed those hands down, and he tied the remainder of free rope right under where he kissed as a makeshift pull. He climbed onto Kei's lap again, legs slipping above the chair arms. A groan broke through Kei's mouth as Tadashi ground his hips downward, clothed cocks pressed against one another.
"You look so beautiful like this," he said.
His fingers undid the few buttons framed by the purple silk, just enough for him to slip his hands to scorch on burning skin. He raked his dull nails around a hardened nipple, a moan tumbling out of Kei's lips, and he threw his head back. Tadashi marveled at the red blooming under the white shirt, a testament to the fire growing in both of their chests. He wanted, needed more. Needed to pull their bodies in the inferno and let the flames swallow whole. His other hand snaked around Kei's neck, palms pressed to an erratic pulse and up to the soft locks on an even softer nape. With a less gentleness before, Tadashi gripped onto the hair to keep Kei's head in that same position. The column of his throat called, its length begging for burning lips and sinking teeth, and Tadashi could do nothing but acquiesce to the silent request. His tongue licked up the beads of sweat forming, the salt reminding Tadashi of how much he wanted to drown in this feeling, to dive as much as he felt a wildfire raging within chest.
"Tadashi," Kei sighed, body relaxing.
Lavishing in the prayer in his ears, he splayed his hand on the expanse of Kei's muscles, happy to be trapped under fabric. It belonged there as much as his other hand gripping did, and his mouth found the hollow of Kei's collarbone, raking canines against it.
"Tell me what you want," Tadashi ordered against his skin with a sweet voice.
"Touch me, more, please, touch me."
"I am touching you," Tadashi teased.
If he could, he'd spend every waking moment taking Kei apart, until the only thing he could give was his tears and the dribbling of his saliva; Tadashi would drink every bit, drain him dry just to do it all over again. He pulled his hand from the shirt and brought it up to Kei's jaw, pads of his fingers tracing up his chin and into the parted mouth which opened up even more for him. Satisfaction sparked by way Kei's responsiveness, and even more when his tongue lolled out of his mouth as a plea. Slowly, Tadashi dripped his spit, watching the string disconnect from lips and land on Kei's tongue, and the moan elicited was nothing short of divine.
With a swallow, Kei thanked him, lost in his sighs.
More and more, Tadashi felt dipped in oil and set ablaze, no amount of an ocean able to put him out. He inhaled a shaky breath and circled his hips down onto Kei's blood-fat cock pressing up against the plush of his ass, the layers of fabric between them a curse and a blessing all the same. The straining of his own length rang in his body as a plea to lose control altogether, to chase such pleasure, but he pushed it aside to watch Kei's face melt under restraints. His squirming body demanded, and it helped Tadashi in reigning himself in, favoring the way words failed and broke down into rutting hips and unfinished words. Choosing kindness instead of withholding, he steadied his body, his hands grabbing behind him, holding onto Kei's legs for leverage. Without a grip to keep his head back, Kei looked at Tadashi, face flushed and chest heaving, and he smirked at the unraveling happening under him.
"My sweet, sweet Kei, what will I do with you?" he teased, holding back a giggle.
"Hurry, please, please," Kei begged, his hands squirming under Tadashi.
As much as he wanted to give into the demands, taking control of such a beautiful person emboldened him, gave him permission to take as much time as he wanted. He tapped his chin.
"Hurry for what?" he replied.
"More, more, god, please."
Tadashi couldn't help but laugh at the mindless pleading from someone so articulate, and even with such teasing, he could see the unbroken want on Kei's face. He slid back and, removing all the pressure he put onto Kei's cock, which strained against his pants. Tadashi paused to take in the sight in front him and marveled at the mussed blond hair glowing in the warm lamp light, the flushed red streaked across skin and the wrinkled white under purple ropes. A whine interrupted him, and he smiled at the impatience.
"Be good for me," he said, fingers trailing down to Kei's pants zipper.
Pausing, his eyes flickered up, waiting for a confirmation.
"Yes, whatever you want, I-I'll be..." Kei's sentence faltered as Tadashi freed his clothed bulge and smirked at the sigh of relief gracing his ears.
He pressed his palm against Kei's erection, blood set on fire to know this was the reaction he could elicit; he shuddered at the contact, meek groan following. Tadashi tilted his head to the side to feign innocence as he gave a few strokes over his boxes at a torturous pace, watching with fervor. Kei's body twitched through each movement, more clipped moans coming out. Satisfaction bloomed in Tadashi's chest in seeing Kei's chest strain against the rope, and the need to feel his skin overtook his brain.
Pulling back, he swung his legs onto one side of the chair to stand, looking over his shoulder to watch whatever reaction came out Kei. A clipped whine and the indignant pout across his face made Tadashi smirk, but nothing stopped him from walking over to his bedside drawer to pull out a clear bottle and a foil-wrapped condom. When he fixed his eyes on Kei again, his eyes widened and surprise replaced whatever expression he held.
"Do you see something you like?"
"Y-yes," Kei replied, Adam's apple bobbing as he spoke.
Tadashi stood in between his legs, bending down to tug Kei's pants down just enough, and he obliged, lifting his hips as much as he could while tied. Hard cock sprang out from his underwear, its head weeping from Tadashi's teasing. His heart swelled with a swirl of emotions - pride, desire, and need - as he tore the condom free from its package, eyes never leaving Kei's.
"Thank you," he said as Tadashi slid latex onto him.
"You're welcome. You’ve been so patient. I think you deserve a reward."
Even slower than before, he undid every button of his shirt and watched Kei's face, so full of urgency. He couldn't help but smile as he did the same on his pants, pushing them off his long legs until they pooled onto the ground.
"T-Tadashi."
He tilted his head unexpectedly at hearing his name, curiosity burning at the sound of such a plea.
"Yes?" he answered without moving.
"Please, let me taste you," Kei begged.
What he wouldn't do for him. Tadashi smiled and sauntered over to the side of the chair. Without a word, he let spit drip onto his hand before stroking his leaking cock inches away from Kei's face.
"Please..."
How could he to deny him? Tadashi placed his foot on the inside of Kei's thigh, tugging his head closer to his cock. Without hesitation, Kei opened his mouth, tongue running on the underside, as best as he could while being held in place; Tadashi shuddered at the contact. A few months ago, he couldn't imagine the feel of Kei's lips, let alone the tightness of back of his throat as he swallowed around Tadashi. The wet heat encompassing his cock forced a moan through his chest, and he pushed his hips forward.
He blushed when he felt Kei's nose against his wiry hair, red growing deeper at the sound of a deep inhale. His grip tightened around blond hair to keep him there until he felt a twitch at the back of Kei's throat; his other hand reached around to his hole and pressed at the plug lodged deep inside him. His brain nearly short-circuited as he pushed deeper, brushing against his prostate. Pressure from both sides of him drove him delirious.
Pulling Kei off of him for just a moment, Tadashi leaned down until he could slot their mouths together, indulging in his own taste. His other hand busied itself with teasing his entrance, taking out the plug out just an inch before letting his body swallow it back up. Still, Tadashi needed to mark him, make sure he knew to whom he belonged, and he straightened himself to stuff is cock back into Kei's mouth with heels digging into the meat of his thighs once again. Tears formed in the corner of Kei's eyes, falling against his flushed cheeks as Tadashi fucked the inside of his mouth slowly. The velour of Kei's throat made heat pool at the base of his abdomen, so silky and smooth with each thrust.
The edge approached him fast, and he dragged Kei off with his remaining bit of self-control.
"Thank you," Kei said through a hoarse voice.
Brimming with pride, Tadashi straddled Kei's lap and licked the salty tears off his cheeks. He wanted to savor all of Kei, whatever he would give and give he did, willingly and in his entirety. Tadashi found his mouth again, tongue lapping at the softness of Kei's mouth and the smooth feel of his teeth. His hands found purchase on strong shoulders as he deepened the kiss; the taste and the feel of Kei's pliant body hypnotized him, grinding their cocks together to chase more contact.
Growing desperate, he broke away and reached behind him for the lube. Kei watched with wide eyes as he drizzled the cool liquid onto his palm, warming it up; Tadashi busied his other hand with finally sliding out the plug, moaning through it. He steadied himself with deep breath, his hole twitching at the sudden emptiness, even if temporary.
"And what do we say before getting a reward?" he whispered, mouth grazing the shell of Kei's ear.
"Thank you."
"You're so good for me."
Even through the thin latex against Kei's cock, Tadashi felt the burning, the aching in his palm as he spread the lube on him, smirking all the while. The heat rivaled Kei's delirious expression in its delicious, lost entirely in the pleasure. Tadashi gripped onto his jaw, steadying their eye contact as he lined himself up to Kei's head. His breath hitched in his throat, having only imagined this; as it became reality, Tadashi lit aflame before he even had Kei filling him. Even in a tight grip, Kei melted into Tadashi's touch, his own fire burning through the rope. It reignited him, pushing him enough to start sinking down inch by inch, the stretch unfathomable even with countless fantasies. He rested his forehead against Kei's, releasing shaky breaths as he continued to take him. Their breaths danced together, Tadashi pressing his ass flush against Kei's hips, letting the fullness settle inside him. Every thought disappeared the moment he shifted and brushed against the delicious bundle of nerves, the effect instantaneous. Kei returned with his own sounds of pleasure, ringing through his ears.
"You - you feel so, god - please, please, please-" Kei struggled to speak full sentences, broken phrases filling the space between their faces.
Mind filled with nothing with Kei, he tightened his grip, burying his face into the expanse of his neck for comfort. Waves of vetiver and musk washed over him, and he savored each inhale to pull himself from the very edge where he danced. He wanted this to last forever; he wanted to find release and remind himself this could happen over and over again. As he rocked his body in shallow motions, he pressed lips against Kei's throat as their bodies went haywire; he collected the beads of sweat as they formed, the salt of the sea delicious on his tongue. Hours could've passed, and no amount of time could satiate his appetite, his need; every sensation rang through his body, a burning oil slick on water. Fire engulfed every nerve ending at the mere feeling of having Kei seated inside him, but still he wanted more. He craved the ceaselessness of this feeling, the sickly sweet sounds of Kei's cutoff breaths as his hole twitched.
Slowly, Tadashi rose until only the tip was inside before he bottomed out in one motion. Kei threw his head back and moaned with abandoned as Tadashi did it once more.
"More, please, I need you," Kei pleaded, thrashing against the restraints.
Tadashi obliged, pulling at the rope for leverage, circling his hips slowly over and over again. Each time he sunk down, it pulled moans from the deepest part of Kei, sensation swallowing them both so wholly. Without stopping, Tadashi tightened the grip on Kei's face and tried to kiss him, though each brush against his prostate rendered him unable to focus on anything but fucking his body down. His thighs ached, but the frictionless slide of Kei cock inside him overrode every synapse in his brain. Every fiber of his burned for Kei, for his scent, for the weight of his cock, for the feel of his hot skin, everything.
"So good for me, so, so good, you're everything," Tadashi babbled into Kei's ear.
He lost himself in the symphony of their pleasure, wanting so badly to live inside of Kei's moans and feeling of skin meeting one another repeatedly. His head spun and body burned, rapidly approaching his edge again. Everything melted in his ears, unable to discern where he ended and Kei started. As if to ground himself before he floated away, Tadashi sunk his teeth into Kei's shoulder, taste of his skin driving him further to the brink. His whines grew as he repeated the motion, tightening his hole as Kei's length brushed against his prostate over and over again; he could feel Kei's legs tremble under him.
"Can I -I - please, please," Kei repeated his broken plea into his ears, unable to ask in full.
"Can you what?" Tadashi managed, equally frantic.
"Cum, cum, please, I need, I need to-"
"Yes, yes, Kei, you're so perfect, I, I-I'm going to cum too."
He hovered over Kei's mouth, panting into one another, unable to do more. Warm static rushed over every part of his brain and body, flooding through every single nerve. For a moment, his vision blurred as his cum streaked across Kei's chest, and he drove himself to keep moving, until Kei joined him in the delirium.
"T-Tadashi !!"
Pushing through the thick oil of his mind, he continued the gyrating of his hips as Kei filled up the condom, despite dipping quickly into overstimulation. Tadashi wished that he could feel cum drip from inside him, stuffed deeper as he rode them both into climax and then way past it. Finally able to catch his breath, he licked into Kei's mouth in a sloppy kiss, desperation to feel him as the rush of endorphins bathed his body.
"You're everything; you were so good for me. You're perfect," he said in between kisses. Even in his post-orgasm haze, Tadashi unfastened all the ties through shaky hands. As the rope fell away, Kei's hands reached under Tadashi's open shirt, grabbing at every inch of bare skin he could. They tangled into one another until they were chest to chest, Tadashi unable to pull himself away from Kei's body heat. As his heartrate steadied, his hands slowed and took to stroking Kei's face to soothe him.
"You did so good, I have to clean us up," Tadashi crooned.
The arms around his middle tightened, keeping him locked in place, and he giggled.
"I'm not going anywhere, we just have to move," he reassured, running his fingers down Kei's neck.
Through some gentle coaxing, Tadashi managed to squeeze them both into his bathtub, and he let Kei curl into his chest as he washed away the sweat, whispering promises of a shared future. The two of them sat in companionable silence with Tadashi lathered shampoo into Kei's hair.
"Did you wear a plug even though you didn't know if we'd have sex?" Kei said, words dripping with sleepiness.
Tadashi's face flared as he rinsed the shampoo off them both.
"Maybe? Yes," he whispered.
He could see Kei smiling, his eyes closed.
"Pervert," he teased.
--------☆
Several months after their first official night together, Kei stood at the entrance of an unknown bar with his boyfriend, who dragged them along through the streets of Roppongi. The Friday night buzz surrounded them, patrons passing by and Tadashi excitedly looking up at him.
"So, what happened that night exactly?" Kei said, adjusting his mask before he entered.
"Weird story, really, I'll tell you all about it when we go inside," Tadashi replied, opening the door to reveal a set of red lights and an announcement of a shibari show starting in 5 minutes.