Chapter Text
Langa has always had a talent for pretending to be asleep. As a child he realized he could lay down anywhere, close his eyes, settle his breathing, and adults would talk around him. He learned a lot of things people didn’t want him to know by pretending to be asleep.
On the boat ride to Miyakojima, Langa pretends to be asleep for most of the way. He has to think about his situation, how he’s going to get out of this.
Because he and Reki are going to be sharing a room in some fancy hotel and Langa has no idea how he’ll keep himself sane. He wants Reki so badly—more and more every day. And he’s pretty sure Reki likes him back in that way. It’s just that…Langa can’t allow himself to give into those urges.
Because he’s a bad person. Langa is evil. Psychotic. He looks at sweet, sunny, pretty Reki and he imagines bruising him up. He gets off on it most nights. He pictures holding Reki down, tying him up, making him come to the point of exhaustion, spanking, slapping, over stimulation. Anything that a serial killer in a movie would do Langa wants to do it to Reki.
He’s evil. He’s fucked up. He’s not even fit to be near Reki. Reki, in fact, is maybe not safe alone with Langa. What if Langa can’t control himself? What if his insane urges overwhelm him sleeping next to Reki? What if he hurts Reki?
“Dude, you awake?” Reki asks. Langa opens one eye and sees Reki beaming at him. “We’re almost there.”
Langa drops the sleeping act and turns to his friend.
His pretty, sweet, innocent, light of Langa’s life best friend: Reki. He’s so perfect. Langa can hardly stand it. Can hardly keep himself off of Reki.
Fuck how is he going to make it through a weekend sharing a room with him? Sleeping next to him? So close he could press his nose into Reki’s hair and get dizzy on the scent of him.
“I’m a little queasy,” Langa says, an explanation to a question Reki didn’t ask, “it’s been a long time since I was on a boat.”
“Aw! We’ll get you used to it.” Reki promises. He’s so excited. Langa is glad for it. When the idea first came up with Miya, Langa got the impression that Reki didn’t really want to go. But now that the room arrangements have been shifted Reki is all smiles and enthusiasm.
Which is why Langa couldn’t tell him ‘no’. He can’t just tell Reki that he’s a psycho who wants to bruise him up and make him come so hard he cries….
Reki is probably so pretty when he cries.
“What do you want to do first thing? After the check in and everything,” Reki asks.
Langa can do this. He can control himself. It’s not like he goes around acting on his urges left and right. He’s controlled himself this long he can surely share a room with Reki without snapping.
“Can we go to the beach?” Langa asks.
Reki looks almost disappointed. Was he expecting a different answer? It doesn’t last long enough for Langa to ask; Reki swiftly hides it. “Of course! You’ve probably never seen it, right?” Langa nods in affirmation. Reki says, “Beach it is! I’ve got sunscreen and everything.”
Maybe before Langa’s race with Adam he could have handled the private close proximity of a hotel room. But now that he’s seen Reki act like a wanton slut and gotten them both off on it, the flood gates are open. Langa’s self control is waning rapidly the more time he spends alone with Reki. He has the pictures on his phone. He looks at them daily now, not just to jack off, but mostly to tithe himself over. Just a little, small, safe release regularly to keep him from going insane and ravaging Reki. It also serves as a confirmation that it really happened. Sometimes Langa is certain he dreamed it; the pictures assure him he didn’t.
“What do you want to do?” Langa asks, remembering that this weekend is about healing Reki not doing him more damage.
Reki blushes and Langa desperately wants to know what’s in Reki’s head. Is he thinking about their night together? Or is he thinking about someone else?
“Duh, skating. Of course!” Reki laughs and it’s sunshine and a piercing pain at the same time. Langa wants to bite him everywhere. Is that normal? No of course not! Normal non-evil people don’t fantasize about bruising their friends with their teeth.
Langa looks pointedly at Reki’s busted arm. He’s got other scrapes and bruises too—Langa wonders if they’re from skating or that someone else Reki might be thinking about.
Reki doesn’t miss the look. He rolls his eyes. “Dude it’s not like he broke my leg.”
“He”. That raises Langa’s hackles. He can’t help it though he tries. He shouldn’t be jealous. He shouldn’t be bitter or spiteful. Langa should just be a good friend. Why is that so hard for him?
“Just remember you’re supposed to be taking it easy,” Langa says, a firm reminder for both of them.
Reki elbows him but it’s good natured and teasing. Reki leans in closer and drops to a whisper, “Did you see the room photos I sent you?”
Langa did. Langa memorized the layout so he could maximize his self control. A boarder should know the peak he slides down—his dad told him that when he was old enough to get off the bunny slopes.
Snowboarding is easy though. For some reason, not fucking Reki’s face every second they’re in close proximity is difficult.
Langa nods and hopes if his cheeks are red it looks like sunburn. “It’s really fancy. Are you sure we can afford it?” It’s a double edged sword for Langa: he’s excited to be alone with Reki but the only things keeping his psychotic urges in check are other people like Miya and Shadow. Can he control himself without them? Does he want to? Is that what Reki wants?
“Don’t worry about it man,” Reki assures him for the millionth time, “I told you it’s all taken care of. The only thing we have to think about is…is hanging out.” Langa nods. It has to be Adam’s money. There’s no other explanation.
There’s a little fire of envy burning soft and low in Langa’s belly for Adam—the man is ruining his life. He’s rich and handsome, powerful, suave, and the most amazing skater (as Reki puts it). He can’t compete with that. The only thing Reki even likes about Langa is his skating. If there’s some rich sugar daddy that’s better at it than Langa—or at least just as good—why would Reki even waste his time with someone like him?
And Reki doesn’t even know how evil Langa is. Reki doesn’t know how Langa fantasizes about bruising him, biting him, spanking him, tying him up—
Langa has to calm down. He takes in a deep breath and lets it out. Reki, the sweetest boy in the world, touches Langa’s shoulder with concern. “Do you need a sick bag?”
Ugh. Great. Just what he needs: Reki seeing him vomit over the side of a boat. Adam probably never vomits, Langa thinks bitterly, he’s too old and refined for such things. Langa shakes his head and tries a smile. Reki returns it and says, “We’ll get you one of those bracelets for the way back, okay?”
“Okay,” Langa says with a nod. “Thanks Reki. Sorry you have to look out for me.”
Reki laughs, genuine and warm. For a moment Langa forgets every trouble. “I don’t mind,” Reki says, “I feel bad for you though. This can’t be a good way to start off a vacation.”
“I’ll be fine once we’re on land.” Langa looks out at the water. “How long before that happens?”
Reki puts his hand on Langa’s back and rubs small circles into it. “Really soon, I promise.” Langa closes his eyes. He hopes Reki keeps doing this. “If you pass out I can’t carry you though.”
“Not even a piggy back?” Langa whines, “I thought we were friends.”
“I’ll tell you what: I’ll get Joe to do it. How’s that?” Reki can get anyone to do anything for him. Does he know the influence he has? Does Reki realize how dedicated everyone around him is to his happiness? From what Langa has seen people flock to Reki, he’s a magnet for worship. He’s sunshine—fuck that Reki is the goddamn sun itself with how admired and adored he is.
“I’ll try not to pass out. No promises.”
He’s so amazing. He has to know. Does Adam tell him? Should Langa? Or will he just look more pathetic?
“Your torment is over,” Reki assures him and Langa looks up to see the boat pulling in.
“I doubt it,” Langa mutters to himself; Reki doesn’t hear him.
*
The beach is perfect. Reki takes them there first because it’s what Langa said he wanted to do. They don’t even check into the hotel yet; Reki’s priority was what Langa said he wanted to do.
When Langa gets too hot and passes out Reki still prioritizes Langa’s well being over anything else. Reki gets him water and a snow cone, he fans Langa under the umbrella and helps him reapply sun screen. Reki is the injured one but he takes care of Langa.
Langa doesn’t deserve this. Reki is always having to take care of him. From heat stroke to skateboarding injuries. Langa hoped that he’d have the chance to care for Reki like that, give a little back, but instead Langa is passing out on the beach like a helpless idiot.
Langa doesn’t want to leave the beach. Or, more accurately, he doesn’t want to check into their intimate little hotel room. Langa can hold back his depraved urges with the others around but he fears what he’ll do to Reki if left alone.
But there is only so long that Langa can spend stalling at the beach; when the sun starts to go down Reki starts to get anxious about their check in time. Even though it would resolve Langa’s issue, he doesn’t force Reki to stay at the beach so they miss check in.
*
The room is modest. Which is unexpected considering Adam. There are two beds but Langa isn’t sure they’re far enough apart.
Reki throws his bags down in the general direction of “left” and then takes off his shoes. He makes himself comfortable so easily. He makes everyone around him comfortable easily too. Reki is a wonder.
He wants to be near Reki always, so close that Reki can’t breathe or get away from him. Langa wants to cage him, tie him, bruise him, hold him, and fuck him. He’s everything. He’s Langa’s favorite thing in the world. Langa needs Reki.
Langa stands at the door awkwardly holding his duffel bag and staring at the beds. He toes off his own shoes so he isn’t just gaping at Reki. How is he going to get through the night?
“We should probably grab something to eat.” Reki says and then groans. “But I’m so tired. The beach really wore me out.”
“Sorry.” How long before Reki realizes that he’s wasting his time with Langa? Before he realizes Langa is cold, and distant, and boring? An empty boy haunting his own body.
Reki is probably fed up with him. Langa wouldn’t blame him if he was. Him realizing Langa’s depraved sexual urges can’t be too far off; not with them sharing a room. His days basking in Reki’s sunshine could end at any minute.
Langa prays it isn’t this weekend. He prays that he gets to have this, at least, before Reki gets wise and surrenders his love and attention to his skate-god-sugar-daddy Adam entirely.
For Langa, skating is nothing without Reki.
But whatever Reki gets from Langa he could find somewhere else. In fact, he has: that dick pic didn’t leave much to the imagination.
Adam is almost definitely leagues above Langa in this aspect. Adam’s an amazing skater—Langa is fully aware—and Reki says Langa is just as good if not better. But Adam doesn’t need a custom board with wheels and straps to skate like that. Without Reki’s board and his help, Langa doesn’t have any real skill. He still feints at the sight of his own blood; Adam has probably never feinted at the side of blood.
Without Reki, Langa is no skater. Without Reki he’s nothing.
How long before Reki realizes they don’t balance out?
Reki asks, “What for?” Before Langa can answer Reki hits him with that smile, “Oh, dude, don’t be! We had a blast. I just got caught up in it is all.”
“Should we order room service or something?” Langa asks.
“I don’t know. I’m not sure if that’s included with the room or not.”
Langa prickles and hugs his bag closer to his chest, squeezing like it’s Adam’s boyfriend stealing neck.
Shit. What the fuck was that? That’s such an evil, stupid thing to think about another person. Reki isn’t his boyfriend. He doesn’t belong to Langa.
He should belong to Langa. If for no other reason than Langa wants him more than anything else in the world.
To curtail his possessive, psychotic thoughts—or to at least keep Reki from inquiring about them—Langa quickly takes his duffel bag to the bathroom and unloads the toiletries.
Fuck this is going to go poorly for him. He’s not going to be able to hold out if Reki outright makes a move on him. Langa is weak. He’s a weak, sick man, and he gets caught up in the idea that Reki is so sweet and perfect that he’d let Langa do anything to him.
God how Langa would abuse that “anything” if given the chance.
Which, unfortunately, it seems Reki might be giving him. Why else would he insist they get a room together?
When he comes out of the bathroom it’s to see Reki pushed the beds together, creating dangerously minimal buffer room between his sick mind and Reki’s sleeping, helpless form. Worse yet: Reki’s bag is open and amongst the wads of clothing that Reki bought Langa’s eye catches something that is not like the rest of the garments packed with it.
Langa feels frozen, unable to move, his eyes zeroing in on the glimpse of dark blue fabric inside Reki’s bag. It’s a good thing Reki is distracted by his unpacking because it means he doesn’t catch Langa straining to get a better look at the something soft and silky that Reki might have packed.
“I thought maybe we could take a nap,” Reki says, turning to look at Langa, still standing at the door, mouth agape, and eyes focused with possessive lust. “Set a timer for twenty minutes and then take a walk to see what’s around?”
“Sounds good,” Langa says, snapping out of his revelry. Before Reki can mention the hyper-focused-primal-lust consuming Langa’s entire form, Langa quickly busies himself with closing the blinds and making it darker for them.
The entire time Langa’s brain is buzzing with thoughts, trying to puzzle Reki out without asking him anything weird.
Although, if Reki is uncomfortable with his behavior, or bored by his stoic demeanor, he shows no signs of it. That’s a comfort. Another comfort: the fact that he pushed the beds together and maybe packed another cute underwear set. Reki wouldn’t go through all this if he was fed up with Langa. If he didn’t want to be friends anymore.
But what about the part where Langa wants to be more than friends? What about the part where Langa wants to be an obsessive psycho stalker?
Langa starts to disrobe, intending to go down to his boxers, like he usually naps, but is hesitant. Reki hasn’t seen him like this: practically naked. He’s seen a lot of Reki’s body but Langa was mostly clothed during their previous escapade. Langa is so pale; he’s never been so self-conscious before in his life. What if Reki loses interest? What if Reki doesn’t like his body?
He glances back at Reki to see he’s stripped down to his boxers and is climbing into his side of their bed. However self conscious Langa feels, he gets over it instantly in favor of dressing down to Reki’s level and cuddling near him.
He tries not to seem over eager when he climbs in next to Reki. They both lay down on their sides and face each other.
There’s a quiet moment between them. Reki smiles. Langa smiles back.
“Hi,” Reki says.
“Hi,” Langa replies.
“Did you like the beach?”
Langa nods. “I loved it.”
“You’re happy you came then?”
Langa blinks, confused. He furrows his brow. “Of course I am.”
“I was worried you wouldn’t.”
“I always have fun with you, Reki.” A soft blush dusts over Reki’s cheeks and he turns his face into the pillow to hide it. “What? You don’t believe me?”
“Not exactly,” Reki says, muffled into the pillow at first until he turns his face to Langa again. “I just felt like maybe you’d have more fun here without me.”
“That’s impossible,” Langa says. It makes Reki laugh, just a small one, but it’s rings a bell in Langa’s heart. Reki is an angel: pure, and good, and wonderful in every way Langa isn’t. “I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else.”
“Yeah?” Reki asks, voice light and hopeful. Langa only nods. Reki’s smile beams brighter. “Me too.” Langa must look shocked because his expression makes Reki laugh. “Sorry,” He says, “you just looked so surprised. It’s not hard to believe, is it?”
“There’s no one else you’d rather be here with? In the whole world?”
Reki nods, “No one living or dead.” Reki breaks off in a yawn at the end there. Damn, Langa really did wear him out at the beach.
“Did you set a timer?”
Reki nods, closing his eyes. Through another yawn he reiterates it’s for twenty minutes.
“Reki?”
“Mhm?”
“Can we skate when you wake up?”
“’Course, dude. I miss skating with you.” He sounds so pained about it. Langa wants to ask more about that, because he doesn’t understand what Reki could mean until his eyes land on his busted arm.
That’s right. They’re here to heal up Reki. So he can get back to skating again. Langa got so lost in his lustful torment he forgot this isn’t about him. He should think about Reki more; about what Reki wants instead of what he wants Reki to want.
Langa settles onto his pillow, admiring Reki’s softly sleeping face for a long while before he dozes off.
*
Langa wakes up—his stomach growling like a beast—and it’s really dark out. Darker than when he closed the blinds. He lifts his head, blinking around the room.
He looks down at Reki and sees him still fast asleep, splayed out, blanket half thrown over him.
Langa grabs his phone and the time is a couple of hours later, not twenty minutes. Did they sleep through Reki’s timer? Langa leans over Reki careful not to wake him and taps the power button on his phone. The timer is on the screen but it looks like Reki forgot to press “start”. They’ve definitely over slept.
He thinks about waking Reki, but he’s so pretty like this. He’s so pretty always but Langa has never seen him like this before: asleep, still, relaxed. He’s so…so…
…Vulnerable.
Langa swallows, his throat suddenly very dry as an evil thought settles into him. Several evil thoughts, actually. They battle for dominance, his morality barely audible over the din. In fact, not audible at all, Langa barely registers he still has any morality with Reki looking so delectable.
“Delectable”. Jesus, he sounds like Adam.
This is exactly what he was afraid of: that a weekend with Reki was going to exacerbate Langa’s urges to the point where he couldn’t hold back. He needs to work this out of his system somehow. He needs to wake Reki up.
He should do that.
And he will. Obviously he will. Reki’s already over slept though and a few more minutes can’t hurt. He’s just so peaceful; Langa hates to disturb it.
And, anyway, isn’t Reki resting part of this whole excursion? Langa should, maybe, even wait ten or fifteen more minutes before he wakes Reki up.
Yeah. That’ll be good. That will be just fine and Langa will just watch Reki. He’ll just look at him. Looking at him can’t hurt him, can it? He’ll just keep his hands to himself. He balls them into fists and pulls his knees to his chest and sits.
Reki’s pretty. Not like how girls are pretty though. Langa thinks he himself fits that mold a little more than Reki does. But it’s a different kind of pretty for Reki. He’s pretty like a hearth, warm and always crackling with life. He feels that warmth now, watching Reki crackling with life in a dark room even as he sleeps. Just for him; just for Langa.
He’s lifting his hand up before he realizes it—he quickly pulls it back and tucks it to his chest. He should wake Reki up.
He rolls over in his sleep and his back is to Langa now. It’s bare. Langa sees them again: the scars from Adam. Bruising too, not yet healed. Langa clutches his wrist in his other hand to keep from touching them—tracing with his fingers the art of black and blue on Reki’s tanned skin.
He was bleeding all over that night, clearly in pain but smiling—somehow still smiling through all of it. Reki was even apologizing to Langa for losing. Langa didn’t want an apology. What he wanted was much, much worse.
He hadn’t feinted at the sight of Reki’s blood. Langa picked him up and carried him to Shadow’s car and the urgent care center. He got blood all over his shirt and didn’t pass out once. He was too keyed up for that.
Langa had paced the hall in one big square loop, over and over, changing directions every time he passed by Miya and Shadow on their waiting room chairs. Most medical places have square designed halls—every place his mom has worked has one, Langa realized it when he was six.
He could have sat with Shadow and Miya, but he just couldn’t be still. His mind was playing it back on repeat, over and over: Reki in pain.
Just such beautiful, elegant, pain. There’s life in pain, there’s the feeling of it, the pulse of one’s heart, nerve endings telling you you’re alive. Pain is one of the few things that bring that. Reki is so alive, so pretty.
Langa might break his own wrist if he keeps this up. He feels like a little kid at the lodge, knowing he’s not supposed to touch the fire but burning to do it anyway. Something primal in him he’s never been able to explain.
He hasn’t washed Reki’s blood out of that shirt. He worries his mom will find it and ask questions Langa can’t answer.
Langa shifts, relaxing his legs and opening his hips up a little more. He puts his hands in his lap and separates them, his left slipping into his underwear to pull at his hardened cock. It’s a little relief, Langa exhales a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.
Reki sleeps on, turning over again, onto his stomach this time, his head still turned away. He’s a heavy sleeper. Langa probably couldn’t wake him up if he tried.
He starts to pump his fist, watching Reki sleep while he plays in his head, over and over, the race with Adam. Reki being mocked, Reki being chased down like prey, Reki being grabbed and tossed around. Reki being hurt.
By Adam.
Adam, Adam, Adam.
What does Reki see in him? Is it just the skating? The money, too, probably. Langa grinds his teeth, leaning forward a little to hover over Reki. Langa spits in his hand and mixes it with his pre-cum to slick himself up. He won’t touch Reki.
He won’t touch Reki. He’ll just look. And imagine…
Or better yet, Langa can just remember. The night that he raced Adam, trying to claim his territory, avenge Reki, win Reki.
Reki gave himself to Langa that night, not Adam. Who says their race had no winner? Langa got the only prize that mattered. Kind of amazing that he paid for Reki’s outfit that night but Langa was the one that got to enjoy Reki in it.
That was a rush of power. Domination over Adam through Reki. Because as pretty as Reki was, it was for him, for Langa. Whatever power or pull Adam has over Reki, he forgot about it just to rutt against Langa and come all over both of them.
The face Reki makes when he comes looks the same as when he’s in pain—complete with a smile at the end like he enjoyed it. He did enjoy it.
Langa replays Reki coming, calling his name, shooting ropes over blue satin. Usually the memory gets him off right away but this time it doesn’t do it. Reki’s face turns away. Langa sits up and before he can think to stop himself he straddles his legs around Reki’s thighs. His boxers are loose on him, not tight fitting like the lingerie. Reki’s face turns again this time down into the pillow and he sleeps on. He’s a heavy sleeper. Langa is grateful—he’s so grateful he’s going to feel three times as guilty about doing this later. He pulls Reki’s boxers down, passed the round shape of his ass where they meet Langa’s crotch. Reki’s almost entirely naked and laid out in front of him. A beautiful view and Langa tells himself he’s done with touching Reki after this. He’ll clean him up when he’s done, and put the underwear back on, and then he’ll jostle Reki awake and that will be the only touching he does between now and when he comes.
Reki’s hips cant up and Langa has to hold in a groan. It’s like he knows, somehow, in his sleep how badly Langa wants him. Langa presses closer, sliding his dick to the crack of Reki’s ass and slipping between the cheeks. It feels so fucking good. He wants to be inside Reki—someday he will—but for now he has to settle for the tight warmth of his cheeks. Langa is so hard it won’t take much, he rolls his hips in little circles, feeling how slick and easy it would be to just…slide inside…
“Langa?” Reki moans. Langa freezes.
He’s caught.
He’s caught. He knew it. He knew he would be. Fuck! This is why he wanted different rooms—or buffers like an old man and a literal child. He lost control again. He gave in and—
And Reki’s going to hate him.
He feels like his throat is closing up.
But then Reki speaks again, voice soft but very clearly awake and even more clearly not upset, “Would you hold me down while you do it?”
Langa can’t move. His brain is processing. It’s not processing very fast but it is processing.
He swallows the lump in his throat and asks, “Where? By what part, I mean.”
Reki turns his head to speak over his shoulder, face flush with desire, “Can you put your hand between my shoulder blades? Like I’m…like I need to be still until you’re done.”
Langa’s body relaxes. His mind relaxes too. For once he’s not lost in a haze of lust or hyper aware of his evil thoughts. He reaches some new place when he presses his hand to Reki’s back and holds him still while he works his cock in and out of the valley between Reki’s cheeks.
He feels like he’s floating. He feels like he can make Reki float too. It’s like showing Reki a snowboarding trick, it’s easy and he’s confident, and Reki loves it.
He moans under the pressure of Langa’s hand. “Say my name, Reki.”
It’s so easy for him. “Langa,” he moans. He’s so good. Reki is so good and perfect. And it’s for him. For Langa. He says it again, it spills out, he says it in the rhythm of Langa’s thrusts.
“That’s good, Reki, you’re so good at this.”
Reki’s hands grip the sheets so hard they pull off. He buries his face in the pillow and Langa can’t allow that; he wants to hear him. He grabs Reki by the hair and pulls him up. Reki goes easy, craning his neck and arching his back, without obstruction Reki’s moans come loud and clear. All of his noises do, including the whimpers of Langa’s name. Langa leans forward, lips to Reki’s ear as he pants praises: Reki is pretty, Reki is perfect, Langa can’t get enough of him. He has no idea what Reki hears if anything over his own noises.
“Reki,” Langa huffs onto the back of Reki’s neck, “I’m close.”
“Come on my back,” Reki says. Langa takes the order without hesitation. He shoves Reki back down into the pillow, holds him down by the shoulder blades, and in two rapid pumps of his cock he covers Reki’s back in his seed.
It hits the scars and bruises, slides down them like they’re peaks and valleys, and Langa watches how beautiful and filthy Reki looks for him.
For him and no one else.
The only sound in the room is their panting. Langa leans down and kisses the back of Reki’s neck. “Thank you,” he says, meaning it with all his heart, “thank you for letting me do that Reki.”
“I was good?” Reki asks, voice hopeful, “You liked that?”
“So good, Reki. Made for this. Perfect,” Langa nods his head nuzzling into Reki’s hair and smelling him, inhaling him, feeling the warmth radiating off his body. “I loved that.”
The room is quiet for a long moment until they both catch their breath. Langa pulls away, regrettably, and gets off of Reki so the other boy can move and turn around.
When Reki looks at Langa he’s smiling so big—it’s like watching him talk about a new deck design. He’s beaming.
Reki laughs and says, “We over slept.”
“You forgot to start the alarm.”
Reki glances down at his phone and then laughs again at his own absent mindedness. “So I did, wow. Didn’t anyone call us?” Reki picks his phone up to look, “Oh. Yeah everyone. Apparently Miya and Shadow crashed Cherry’s room.”
“I’ll…” Langa says, not sure what to say. Should…should they talk about it? It seems like Reki wants to move on to the next thing. He clears his throat, “I’ll check my phone too.” He gets up and while Reki scrolls through the messages, Langa goes to the bathroom and gets a wash cloth to clean Reki’s back with.
Reki stayed in position while Langa stepped away. He hasn’t even pulled his boxers back on. Langa can see that Reki has a mess on his stomach and it makes him freeze in place. Like with the lingerie, Langa doesn’t know what to do when faced with Reki’s sexual prowess. He’s so…much better than Langa at this. So advanced.
Does Adam make him come untouched like that? Or is that a Reki thing? Is Reki so adept at sex that he can just…get off like that? Just from feeling Langa and hearing him say dirty things.
Reki doesn’t look up from his phone, he glares at it like he got a message he didn’t like. Langa takes a seat on their bed behind him and starts to clean him up.
Reki’s demeanor changes the second he feels the warm washcloth on his back. He becomes his sweet, grateful, sunny self and it encourages Langa to clean him thoroughly.
“What did the others say?” Langa asks.
“They’re going to race to find some hidden hot spring, I guess.” He sounds neutral about it, so that can’t be the message that soured his post orgasmic bliss.
“Do you want to?” Langa asks. Reki is quiet and doesn’t answer so Langa presses forward, “You said you wanted to skate. After the nap.”
“Do you want to skate?”
Langa is quiet and then answers honestly, “I always want to skate with you, Reki.”
Reki gasps unexpectedly and turns around, looking at Langa with surprise. “You mean that?” Langa nods but that doesn’t seem to be good enough for Reki. He turns his body all the way around and Langa tries to look Reki in his eyes and not at his come all over his chest. “You wouldn’t rather skate with Joe or Cherry? You know? People on your level.”
Langa furrows his brow confused. His level? What does that mean? Is this a language barrier?
“Are we…not on the same level?” Langa asks.
Reki looks down at the comforter and picks at a loose thread there. Why can’t he meet Langa’s eyes? “Come on, dude,” Reki scoffs, dejected, “you know we’re not.”
Did Langa know that? But…Langa’s skating is nothing without Reki. How could Reki think that? Is he not talking about skating? Is Reki talking about something else?
Is it the sex? Not that they’ve had actual sex. At least they haven’t with each other. Is that it? Is Reki trying to tell him that they aren’t on the same level sexually?
Langa doesn’t understand. It’s frustrating to not understand. But before Langa can open his mouth and get some clarity Reki’s phone rings.
It’s Adam. Even if Langa hadn’t caught the name on the screen he would have known it. He’s the only one constantly ruining his and Reki’s private moments.
He’s certain Reki is going to ignore the call; he ignored the texts last time, and they’re in the middle of a really important discussion. Langa needs clarity on what Reki said; otherwise he’s going to spin out speculating.
It breaks Langa’s heart that Reki answers the call.
He gives Langa the “one moment” sign and gets up, going out to the back veranda and closing the door behind him.
Langa is furious. He sits, stewing in rage, trying to compose himself—but not trying too hard as his anger can’t seem to subside. It’s almost like what happened with Reki, just now, Langa feels so possessive and wild over Reki’s touch, moans, and smile, he can’t hold himself back.
Langa stands and walks to the doors, hovering on the other side of them, listening to Reki’s half of the conversation.
“We haven’t actually made it yet. We overslept.” A few beats of silence signaling a response, and then, “It wasn’t a waste,” Reki sounds defensive, “Langa got to go to the beach. It made him really happy.”
That’s soft. It makes Langa’s stomach flutter.
“I don’t know. I figure they’re all closed now. The others are going to some secret one.” Quiet response and then, “I’m more hungry than anything.”
Langa’s stomach growls. If room service is included, the kitchen is likely closed at this point. And suddenly, when faced with something that he can do that Adam can’t, Langa becomes a determined man on a mission: he must feed Reki.
He grabs the petty cash from his duffel bag that mom gave him before he left. He finds vending machines fairly quickly as he had scoped them out when they first arrived. Langa is never not aware of where accessible food is.
He forgoes his own favorites for Reki’s, all the while his heart pounding as he thinks about the ways he and Adam are different—the way he’s on a different level from Langa. Reki answered a call from him when they were talking.
Is that what Reki meant? That Adam and he are on a level of sexual triumph that Langa can’t reach—maybe can’t catch up to.
Reki wants to skate with Langa but not fuck him?
He stands, staring at the piles of snacks in his arms, and his brain continues to run on in a fit of anger: Adam is not going to steal Reki from him.
Langa just has to get better at sex. He has to have it more.
To his own surprise he’s back in their room before he knows it, setting all the snacks down on their bed and walking towards the doors where Reki’s shadow sits crouched on the ground, his knees pulled up, his hands seemingly working at something.
Langa holds his breath and he listens:
“I had this plan where I’d get us alone together in a hot spring and then I was going to…I don’t know…I was going to act in the moment. I’m not like you,” Reki snaps, “it doesn’t come all that naturally to me, you know?” Who is Reki talking about? Is it Langa?
Reki’s hand paused for his little outburst but after a muffled order on the phone he says, “I am, yes sir,” and gets back to pumping at himself. “I just want to make Langa feel good,” Reki says in a breathy whisper, “he makes me feel good.”
Is that true? Does Reki mean that? Surely it’s not just fodder for the phone sex. Why would Adam want to hear about Langa when he has Reki on the line, touching himself and obeying the man’s every word?
Maybe…is this just because Langa got off and Reki came untouched? Does Reki need to come again? Maybe he hadn’t before. Maybe Langa had just taken his own pleasure and disregarded Reki’s needs.
So that must be why he answered Adam’s call.
“Adam please,” Reki whines, “I don’t have long. Langa’s gonna come back any second.” Whatever Adam replies it’s a declination; Reki whimpers like a kicked puppy.
Langa’s nails dig into his palms so hard he knows they’ll leave a mark. He feels a deep jealousy that he can’t wrangle in. Something is burning in him that he doesn’t quite understand, but it fires him up enough that he does something about it.
Langa slides the door open, quietly, enough that Reki doesn’t notice—or maybe that’s because his eyes are closed and he’s pumping his cock at a painfully slow pace.
Langa hovers there above him for a moment, until Reki opens his eyes and looks up to see Langa. He startles—of course he does Langa came out of the quiet dark like an assassin—and his movements cease. He stammers Langa’s name but before he can get to any other words in the sentence Langa puts a finger to his lips to shush him.
Reki’s entire face and neck are flushed red with embarrassment and arousal. Langa lowers himself to Reki’s level, making intense eye contact. Reki keeps talking to Adam. He covers up the slip of Langa’s name by telling Adam, "S-sorry I...I was picturing Langa. Is that okay?" Langa can't hear the words but the voice is distinctly Adam's: smooth and taunting. Reki says, "I'd be jealous." And Langa burns to know what that means.
Langa lowers himself until he’s knelt in front of Reki, gliding between his legs, until his mouth finds Reki’s erection poking out of his boxers. They’re the same ones he was wearing before when Langa got off and for some reason that turns Langa on. “I was…I kind of had this plan. Where we’d be in the hot springs alone together. I was going to climb into his lap and sort of…ride him.”
Langa prays that Reki keeps talking.
“But I don’t know if he would have known to open me up first. So I might have started with that. But I can only take two fingers still. I didn’t think that would impress him.” Ridiculous. Anything to do with Reki is more than impressive: it’s a life blood that keeps Langa’s heart beating. Nothing is worth doing without Reki. “He’s so beautiful,” Reki moans, putting his free hand in Langa’s hair and combing through it rough and eager.
Reki’s breathing is becoming more and more erratic. Langa wonders if Adam can tell he’s not getting off on his own anymore. Reki pants, “I’m close.” Langa’s eyes shoot up to his face. Reki is half lidded and looks wrecked in an intensely hot way. Langa did that—not Adam. Adam is just a voice on the phone, Langa is here and his mouth is all Reki needs. “Please? I want to come.”
Ah. So that’s it. Adam has to give Reki permission. But that’s when Reki is jerking himself off. Langa is the vessel for pleasure now, he’s got Reki in his mouth, he’s the one who decides when Reki can come. A little competitive, sure. But regardless, Langa is determined to make Reki come despite Adam’s orders.
So even though he hears Adam say, “No, not yet,” what Langa actually hears is a challenge. Reki can come, Reki should come, Reki deserves to come and Langa is going to make him. Langa is going to suck him off so good that he disobeys orders.
How’s that feel Matador of Love? To have his whore fucked so good by someone else in the hotel room he paid for. To Langa it feels like flying.
This is better than snowboarding, it's like skating but it's better than that too. It's Reki. Reki is the best thing, the only thing, Langa's favorite thing in the universe. He wants to keep him. Possess him like a ghost.
Reki looks down at Langa with heavy lidded eyes, his mouth open and panting. His grip in Langa’s hair tightens; he presses Langa further down onto himself. Langa gags but recovers quickly. Before Reki can be too concerned, Langa swirls his tongue around the head of Reki’s cock and whatever Reki was going to say dies as a whimper.
Langa can hear Adam’s praising tone; he wonders idly what he’s saying. Reki responds, panting, trying to hold back desperation, “Langa is perfect. He’s so good. It’s hard not to come just thinking about him. About the way he skates.”
Not exactly the compliment Langa wanted to hear when sucking Reki off. Is that all Reki likes him for? Doesn’t he like this?
Isn’t Langa doing a good job now?
Does he talk about the way Adam skates when they’re together? Is that all that matters to Reki?
“I want to touch him all the time. I want him to come all over me. I love it when he gets feral.”
Is that true? Langa’s eyes lock onto Reki’s and he looks for the truth behind it. Reki gives it to him; he says, “He’s so composed all the time. But you should see him wild and desperate. He takes charge, he gets focused. He sees what he wants and he takes it.”
Does…does that mean Reki likes that? He likes that part of Langa that’s evil and jealous and selfish? The part that makes him take; makes him lose control.
Reki wants this?
He really is perfect. Langa might die without him. He thinks that maybe he wouldn’t mind sharing Reki after all. Especially if Reki talks about him like this—especially if Langa gets to watch Reki like this, control his orgasm, be the true bestower of his pleasure. Langa might not be able to do what Adam can, but he still knows Reki better. He’s still the one here with Reki now.
Adam can give all the taunts and orders he likes, Langa will delight in circumventing them. He’s not here, he can’t do anything about it, and that is thrilling in its own right.
Maybe it’s not about having Reki to himself, maybe it’s about hearing Reki talk about himself like this. With Langa. Maybe it’s knowing how good and perfect Reki is and being willing to show that off to other people. Langa thinks—not with the right head but still—that if he could claim Reki in front of Adam, show him how good he can make Reki feel, that would be the only victory Langa needs over him. He’d let Reki fuck whoever he wanted as long as they understood who loves him the most—as long as they know Langa needs him the most.
For all Reki's irreverent smiles, Langa's favorite expression of his has to be the look when he comes: teeth sinking into his lower lip, eyes tearing at the edges, a high pitched whine he can't control. Then tears. Sweet beautiful tears at having come without permission.
Langa swallows Reki down with a smile.
Adam is trilling with glee on the other end of the line. Langa slides up Reki's body, pressing his nose to Reki's and nuzzling in closer so his mouth is so close to Reki's he can speak into the receiver, "Shut up, Adam," he says, before he snatches the phone from Reki's hand, angrily hangs up and then tosses the phone into the general direction of their mattresses.
"Dude," Reki breathes out with a soft laugh, like he's still winded. He sounds amused. Not mad. Not scared. Not like Langa thought he'd be.
"Sorry"
"Don't seem it."
"I can be sorry if you want me to be," Langa says.
Reki playfully hums, pretending to consider it. "Hard to make you apologize for sucking my brains out through my dick."
"God you're filthy," Langa closes the distance between their mouths and let's Reki taste himself on Langa's tongue. Reki dives in, hungrily. Reki's so hungry for it. No wonder Adam pays for hotel rooms and lacy underwear: Reki is such a good whore. He's worth every penny.
Reki separates them but not by a lot; he keeps Langa within kissing distance. Reki’s phone buzzes with incoming texts—Langa can guess who from. Reki chuckles, “He’s going to be mad.”
“Did I get you in trouble?” Langa asks, almost regretful; almost sorry. He’s really close to it.
“Not bad trouble, I don’t think.” Reki says with another amused chuckle. There’s something different about him after he comes—he was like this last time too: looking spacey, blissful, relaxed, and boneless. Langa gave him that. That’s a sick rush of power he could get used to. “He’ll deal.” Reki concludes, putting his arms around Langa’s shoulders and pulling him in closer.
Langa presses their foreheads together. He breathes in Reki and exhales all his jealousy and tension. They’re alone together. Langa likes it when it’s just them.
“I like you a lot, Reki,” Langa says, “I really really like you.”
Reki has a dopey smile on and Langa wonders if he heard him. If he comprehends him at all.
“I like you too,” Reki says.
But does he get it? Does he understand? It’s easier to express in French the way Langa feels about him. English falls short and Langa hasn’t grasped enough of Japanese to say it confidently.
“Langa?” Reki says, voice a soft whisper, “Can you promise me something?” Langa nods without hesitation. “Don’t leave me behind, okay?”
What does that mean?
“Where would I go?” Langa asks.
Reki looks down, like he can’t meet Langa’s eyes. “I don’t know,” he mutters in a way that seems like he does know he just doesn’t like it, “I just get that…it can be boring when someone is on a different level from you. If they don’t challenge you, you might just sprint ahead. Full speed. No brakes. Don’t look back.” His amber eyes flick up to Langa’s. “You know?”
Langa doesn’t. What is Reki trying to tell him? Is this about skating? Surely not. Not everything is about skating. This must be about the…other thing they do together. The thing they just did together, to be exact.
So Reki knows he’s leagues above Langa in this regard—and he knows he has an expert on hand as an option if Langa can’t live up to the challenge. Is he trying to say that he’s willing to do things with Langa even though he’s levels above him? Langa doesn’t know; he isn’t sure.
But Reki looks so earnest. Like he needs an answer and right now Langa would agree to anything. So instead of clarity he gives Reki a smile and replies, “Nowhere is worth going if you’re not there.”
Reki grins and then, better yet, he laughs. Langa is so gone on him. He’d give Reki anything to stay by his side.
“Hey, um, if you aren’t too tired,” Langa suggests feeling his cheeks turn red, “maybe we could go skating now?”
The smile grows. Langa surrenders entirely to the smile. The smile is his god, his beacon, he will fight and die for it.
Happily, Reki says, “I’d love that.”
*
The night got…weird after that. Langa and Reki ate their fill of the snacks Langa scavenged for and then raced to the hot springs.
What happened after that? Well…Langa chooses to remember the good parts of this trip. The Reki parts. Not the terrifying unexplainable part with the gross smell.
Langa almost gets sea sick again thinking about that smell. He looks at Reki’s arm, basically healed now.
Worth it then. Absolutely worth it to heal Reki.
For the rest of the boat ride back to Okinawa, Langa doesn’t get sea sick. He doesn’t pretend to sleep either. Everyone else is being really quiet.
Reki lays his head on Langa’s shoulder and asks, “Will you wake me when we dock?”
Langa nods in agreement immediately, “Of course”.
Reki snuggles in a little closer and Langa shifts his shoulders to make a better pillow for him.
Reki says, softly, with that smile Langa is addicted to, “I’m really glad we did this together.”
Langa’s heart bursts with joy. Reki could have done this with anyone—he could have done this with Adam—but he’s glad to do it with Langa.
Langa should be more grateful for what he has. For what Reki gives him.
“Me too,” he whispers back, “I wish we could do this all the time.”
But Reki is asleep. Langa isn’t certain he heard him. It doesn’t matter. Langa rests his head onto Reki’s, pushing all the evil thoughts out of his mind, and enjoys their intimacy while he still can.
*