[identity profile] stormymood.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] arashi_exchange
A piece of rainbow for [livejournal.com profile] shardaunei Part 5




“Does he know you’ve come to me?” Nino asked a few days later while Sho sat in his office in Matsumoto City.

He’d had Aiba drive him into town on his day off to do a little sightseeing, to see how some local shrines had changed with the seasons. He’d still done that, unable to lie to Aiba’s face, but he’d also dropped in at the Ninomiya Law Office against his better judgment.

Jun had left a note under the door before Sho had woken up that morning. It had only said “A week, perhaps less. I’m sorry.”

Jun’s motorcar was gone from the garage once more, and even another battery of snow flurries had not kept him from driving off.

“No, he doesn’t know. He left this morning, said he’ll be gone for a week.”

Nino frowned, having a sip of coffee. “It’s Keita-kun’s birthday in a week. The book is due to arrive at Pinetree from the printer’s in Tokyo tomorrow or the day after.”

“I know.”

“And he left no instructions in case he isn’t back before that day? On if we should hold off on the gift if he’s not here? I thought there was going to be a little party at the house?”

“He didn’t say a word to Aiba-san. He left a note with Keita saying he’d be gone on business and to pay close attention to his lessons. That at least was something he hadn’t done before. Apparently the note to me was the only one that gave a time estimate for his return.”

Nino sat, drinking his coffee and shaking his head.

“Do you know where he’s gone?” Sho asked.

“Tokyo.”

“As expected of the great detective,” Sho teased.

Nino smirked. “Perhaps I’m wrong. Perhaps he parks that car somewhere and meditates at a temple for days at a time.”

“When he had you go get him in Tokyo that time…when he was first injured. Did he tell you what happened?”

“In town visiting friends, that baker friend of his.”

“Ikuta.”

“Ikuta,” Nino agreed. “He told me there was some commotion at Tokyo Station, he tripped and fell.”

Sho’s blood ran cold. “He said it happened at Tokyo Station?”

“Yes,” Nino said, voice suspicious. “His friend got him to the hospital, got him patched up, and he called me that night.”

“He told me that he’d fallen at the friend’s house. He never said Tokyo Station.”

Nino set his mug down, rubbing his eyes. “He was probably embarrassed. Didn’t want to admit what really happened.”

“That doesn’t bother you, that he’d tell us two different things?”

“Oh, it bothers me.”

Sho was exasperated. “You don’t sound like it.”

He was answered with a chuckle, Nino getting to his feet and moving to a filing cabinet in the corner of his messy office. The top drawer required a key to open, which he dug out from his pocket. He retrieved a file folder from inside, setting it down on the desk between them.

“What’s that?” Sho asked.

“There’s a lot about Jun that bothers me,” Nino admitted. “He’s my friend and I’m cowardly by nature, so I don’t push him. But that doesn’t mean I remain intentionally ignorant. He was difficult to track down, after Atsushi and his wife died. As the family lawyer, I was the one who had to go to the hospital, authorize Keita’s treatment until Jun could be located.”

Sho stared at the folder, unwilling to open it. Perhaps inside it was evidence of what Jun had vowed never to tell him.

“I was searching, of course, for Matsumoto Jun in Tokyo. That was a dead end. I finally had to go through Atsushi’s effects. In his desk in his study I found some interesting things. Playbills, you know, the programs they hand out at the theater. Among the actors listed on each of them was a Miyama Hiroto. That name also appeared in one of Atsushi’s lists of contacts, there was a telephone number. It was Jun.”

“I thought Jun had stopped acting a few years ago.”

“He was still living under an assumed name. Even after his father died and there was no reason to hide, he kept living as Miyama.” Nino opened the folder. “He didn’t put up a fight when I informed him he’d been declared Keita’s guardian. In fact, he left that same day to drive up to the hospital, to make the arrangements for the funeral. He worked with me and with Natsuko’s family as though he’d never left Pinetree Manor. He returned to the name Matsumoto Jun.”

Nino slid the folder across the desk.

“But even with his new role, once Keita was in a more stable condition he kept running off back to Tokyo. He left me in charge with all the same excuses. ‘Nino, you know all that stuff better than I do,’ leaving management of the estate in my hands. I thought it was suspicious so I hired a private investigator, just to make sure there’d be no trouble. I hadn’t seen him in years, you know, I didn’t know the kind of life he’d been living. I never suspected he’d try to steal Keita’s money or anything, Jun’s not that kind of person. But I didn’t know the type of person Miyama Hiroto was, so I investigated just the same.”

Sho found theater programs inside. Plays he’d never heard of, all with a logo for the Kitagawa Troupe and a line on the inside cover stating that “Kitagawa Hiromu presents…”

Underneath the programs were handwritten notes, presumably from Nino’s investigator. Three arrests of a Miyama Hiroto, profession “Actor” in Tokyo. Two of them for trespassing on private property. One was settled with a fine, the other resulted in a jail term of two months. The third arrest was only described as “suspicious behavior,” resulting in an overnight in jail. Also arrested in that third incident was an Ikuta Toma, who was also listed as profession “Actor.” All three incidents had happened between 10 and 12 years earlier, when Jun was in his early twenties.

“Nothing other than those three arrests. I had the investigator look into Kitagawa Troupe, since Jun’s friend was arrested with him that one time. Massive debts for nearly the company’s entire existence. Kitagawa Hiromu questioned on a dozen different charges going back decades. Suspicion of black market activity, blackmail, fraud. None of them stuck to him, no evidence. Police records are pretty spotty, but my investigator found a few more arrests of actors in the Troupe…some arrests more recent than Jun’s. All the same sorts of things, mostly trespassing on private property. A few for theft.”

Sho frowned. “You think Jun was a thief?”

“I think Jun was young and vulnerable and got caught up in the wrong crowd.” Nino looked at him. “I don’t think he’s a bad person. But I do think he’s been quiet about his past so nothing would hurt Keita. If someone made the connection that Miyama Hiroto was Matsumoto Jun, it would be a scandal, I’m sure of it. Natsuko-san’s family would probably take him to court. Who knows what it would mean for Pinetree Manor or the staff there if the young master was taken away by his other family?”

Sho closed the folder. “Of course he wouldn’t tell me any of this. And I kept bothering him about it. About his time acting and all that.”

“I have all this on file, and I’ll keep it here, locked. Jun doesn’t know I have this. It’s probably some ethical violation or another, but I only investigated him with Keita’s best interests in mind.”

“The Kitagawa Troupe definitely went under?” Sho asked him, not sure he liked the idea that was now poking at him.

“Yes, I confirmed that. Three years ago the theater was sold off.”

“And Kitagawa Hiromu?”

“Retirement. He’s still alive, lives with a widowed sister of his.”

“And Miyama Hiroto? How did he make a living until this year?” Sho knew that with Jun stripped of his title and disinherited, there was no Matsumoto family money going to him. At least not officially. “Did his brother…?”

Nino shook his head. “No, Atsushi never sent him money. Even before my father retired I was handling most of the estate’s financial matters. While Taro-san was alive and even after he passed, Atsushi wasn’t funneling money to Jun. I’d have noticed, and I’d have said something.”

Sho pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a breath. “A theater troupe that went under and had been plagued with money troubles for its entire existence.”

“Yeah…”

He looked at Nino, heart sinking. “Then how on earth could Jun have bought that car of his? All those fancy clothes? What was he doing?”

“My investigator only found an address, some boarding house in Shinagawa. A landlord said Miyama Hiroto had been living there for almost a decade, had never caused trouble.”

“There’s so much that doesn’t add up,” Sho admitted.

“Have you changed your mind about him?” Nino leaned forward, looking at him kindly. “He needs you, Sho-san. Don’t turn away from him when you don’t have the full picture.”

“That’s funny, coming from you,” Sho said bitterly. “You’re the one who pushed and encouraged all of this, even with this file here full of suspicious incidents and charges. You’ve had this evidence for months and still you urged me on, all but pushed me into Jun’s bed…”

Nino held up his hands, shutting his eyes and letting out a soft noise of distress. “God, I don’t need the details…”

“Nino.”

The lawyer looked back at him, sighing. “Jun is a good man. I’ve seen too much proof of it this last year to believe that everything in this folder points to him being the opposite. I trust him, I believe in him. I believe that he wants the best care for his nephew. Hiring you is proof of that commitment.”

Sho sat back in the chair. “He’s not going to tell me the truth. If he’s doing all this to protect Keita, then he’ll never tell anyone.”

Nino checked his watch. “You said you were meeting Aiba-san at 3:00? It’s quarter to 3:00 right now.”

Sho got to his feet. “What should I do?”

“For now?” Nino said, getting up and putting his hands on his hips. “For now all I can advise is that you do the job you were hired to do. And accept Jun as he is, even if there are blank spaces that may never be filled in. You’ve changed him. You’ve helped him to connect with Keita. You’ve made him happy. Isn’t that something worth cherishing?”

“And if Keita’s birthday comes and he hasn’t returned?”

“Then Sensei, you simply throw the party without him.”



Sho was woken on the morning of Keita’s birthday by the sound of Inoue Mao screaming.

He rushed out of bed, flinging open his bedroom door and racing down the stairs, already hearing Aiba hollering Mao’s name on the ground floor. They found her in Keita’s room, grief stricken.

And no wonder.

Keita wasn’t there.

Aiba approached her, resting his hands on his shoulders. Sho stood in the doorway, still adjusting to the dark morning. The sun hadn’t even risen yet. “Mao-chan,” Aiba was saying as soothingly as he could. “Mao-chan, calm down.”

“Where is he? He takes his medication right now, where is he?!” Mao cried hysterically, gesturing wildly around the room. The bed had been slept in, but its occupant was gone. And so was his wheelchair.

“He can’t have gone far,” Sho said, stating the obvious.

When other staff arrived, most of them having charged down the stairs in pajamas and sleepwear just as Sho and Aiba had, they all gasped in horror at the empty bedroom. Haru-san arrived with a clear head as always. She started splitting people up, sending them off to search.

The ramp Ohno had installed for the wheelchair was still bolted in place outside. Sho didn’t believe that Keita was strong enough to both get the door open and potentially wheel himself down the ramp on his own power. Kotaki the footman confirmed that the door hadn’t been left open, that Keita had not gone out into the gardens that way.

Sho confirmed that the library was empty, and the staff discovered that the rest of the ground floor was as well. It was Fujii, the other footman, who came running back into the house, astonished.

“The garage!” Fujii cried, waving for Aiba to come check. “I found his chair by the garage!”

Despite the windy morning chill, several of them went outside, moving hurriedly across the gravel in their slippers. Sho shivered even in his heavier flannel pajamas, finding just what Fujii had when he ran up to Aiba’s side.

The garage was closed, but once Aiba tugged it open, the family car he always drove was still there. Keita’s wheelchair had been parked just outside. The brakes on the wheelchair were locked to keep it in place.

“A kidnapping?” one of the maids asked, almost in tears.

“There’s only one kidnapper who’d leave Keita’s wheelchair by this garage,” Aiba said, shaking his head in disappointment. “Let’s go back inside. Everyone back inside before you catch a chill. Let’s have breakfast and wait for them to come back.”

“For who to come back?” Ohno asked, having just jogged over after checking the garden paths for Keita just in case.

Aiba patted Ohno on the shoulder, their breaths visible in the early winter air. “The birthday boy and his guardian.”

They heard the car come up the gravel road shortly after 7:30. It was a wonder none of them had heard them leave the first time. How slow had Jun had to drive?

Almost as one, the staff rose from their seats in the kitchen, ignoring the last bites of breakfast as they hurried to go back outside. With the weather, Jun had put the top up on the car, pulling up to the garage and stopping. Sho stood back, watching as Aiba stepped up, approaching the car.

But once Jun had the door open, getting out to presumably get the wheelchair so he could help Keita into it, Mao broke past them all, running across the driveway. Jun was just about to open his mouth and explain when Mao hit him. The crack of her palm against his cheek was so loud that the staff let out a collective gasp where they huddled for warmth at the back door.

Sho took a step forward, hoping to smooth things over, keep Mao from getting herself fired. Jun had already lifted a gloved hand to his face in surprise, but when she raised her arm to slap him again, this time he was faster, catching her wrist in his hand and then her other one when she struggled against him.

“Listen,” he tried to tell her. “Mao-chan, listen…”

“You can’t do that!” Mao screamed, her voice shattering the morning silence. “Matsumoto-san, you can’t do that!”

Aiba hurried around to the other side of the car, opening the door. Whatever he said to Keita in that moment, none of the staff heard, but soon the boy had an arm around Aiba so he could be lifted from the car and set down in his chair. Aiba then quickly grabbed Keita’s mound of blankets, settling them on his lap. Jun was no neglectful fool - Keita was fully dressed and was wearing a wool coat, a scarf, and a hat. Aiba continued whispering to Keita, gesturing to Ohno with his head as he pushed the chair. They’d push Keita into the house using the ramp.

Mao was still struggling with Jun, and it was Haru-san who had to walk up and pull her away, rubbing her arms to keep her warm while Jun stood there in a stunned silence. When Haru brought Mao inside, the rest of the staff followed. That left Sho to walk up to Jun and his still-running car.

“I left a note,” Jun mumbled, unable to look Sho in the eye.

“Where?”

“On the nightstand beside his bed.” Jun fumbled in his coat pocket, bringing out a bottle of Keita’s pain medication. “I gave him one at 6:30, just like Mao does every morning. I didn’t want him out of his routine.”

“Jun, we didn’t know where he’d gone. We didn’t know it was you until we found the chair parked out here.”

Jun turned to finally look at him, alarmed. He reached out, touching Sho’s cheek. “You’ll catch a cold.”

Sho stepped back before someone looked out the back door or came around. “The others might see.”

“Go inside. I’ll explain everything.”

“And Mao-chan? What about Mao-chan?”

Jun got back into his car so he could park it in the garage. He rolled down the window. “If she didn’t find my note, then I definitely understand why she slapped me.”

All was explained once Jun was back in the house, and all the staff gathered in the main hall save for Mao, who was tending to Keita. Jun had arrived back from Tokyo very late, not wanting to wake anyone with the car so he’d parked it further down the drive away from the house.

As a birthday surprise, he woke Keita shortly after 5:00, got him dressed, and wheeled him to where he’d parked the car. He’d then brought the wheelchair over to the garage for when they returned. He’d driven Keita into town, parking the car just near the train station. Together they’d watched the first mail train of the day leave for Tokyo after sunrise. Keita had been so happy.

When Mao came out of Keita’s room, she had calmed down. Apparently the note Jun had left, a very detailed note explaining where they’d gone and the medication he’d brought with, had fallen off of the nightstand, slipping between it and the bed. Jun probably hadn’t noticed as he was focused on quietly wheeling his nephew from the house for the big surprise.

Where any other man of Jun’s status would have fired Mao, right there in front of all the staff to make it sting all the more, instead he took both of her hands in his and apologized. “I should have woken you anyway,” he told her, not caring that everyone was watching, listening. “I’m sorry to have troubled you. I hope you can forgive me.”

Mao didn’t apologize for hitting him but inclined her head in understanding.

Jun then ordered everyone back to work in a more commanding tone, reminding them there was a party to prepare for. After retrieving his things from the car, Jun disappeared into Keita’s room, presumably to explain all the trouble that had happened.

When Sho was standing alone in the hall, nothing to do since there would be no lessons that day, he just shook his head ruefully. So many things might have gone wrong. The car might have skidded on a patch of ice. Keita might have caught a cold or spasmed from pain. He might have seen the mail train up close, heard the noise of its whistle and had a flashback to the night when he’d been injured, when his parents had been taken away. None of that had happened, and Keita had been given a beautiful surprise.

But it would be a long time still before Matsumoto Jun would fully understand that when it came to Keita, even surprises needed to be thought out with considerable care.



The birthday party was a success. After all the excitement of the morning, Keita himself apologized to the staff for inconveniencing them and making them upset. Once that was done, everyone moved into the dining room. Haru-san and her staff had done an incredible job transforming the room into a “train station.”

Ohno had done all the artwork in his free time the last few weeks, his drawings of locomotives and imitated destination boards tacked up on the walls. The dining table had a “track” running down the center that the maids had put together with wire, and all the place settings at the grand table were the names of different stations in Nagano. At Keita’s place at the head of the table was a “Matsumoto Station” place card and the gift-wrapped book. The staff together had pooled money to buy Keita several new blank art books he could use to draw. Nino had bought him a new set of colored pencils. And his mother’s family in Hokkaido had sent down boxes of new clothes.

Keita’s reaction to the book was clearly important to Jun, who was sitting at the other end of the long table. Sho could see the nervousness in his face as Keita untied the ribbon, unwrapped it with care. But as soon as he saw the cover, Keita’s mouth dropped open. It was a perfect recreation of Morimoto-san…the little figurine anyhow, but rendered fully human. The cover said “Morimoto and the Train,” the title Keita had given his work, as well as “Written by Matsumoto Keita.”

The staff watched with smiles as Keita slowly opened the freshly printed book, finding his own words on every page along with beautiful illustrations. Nino spoke up as Keita continued looking through it, his face as happy as Sho had ever seen it. “Your Uncle Jun thought you should be a published author. What do you think?”

Keita’s shouted “Uncle Jun, you’re the best!” made the staff laugh, but Jun himself turned bright red, wiping a few tears and not caring if anyone saw.

As Keita had looked through the book, almost ignoring the beautiful cake the cook and her assistant had made him, he’d vowed then and there that he’d write a sequel so he could continue Morimoto-san’s adventures. The party over, Aiba drove Nino back into town while Mao brought Keita to the library to play with his train and start plotting a new story. Sho helped the staff to clean up the dining room, taking down Ohno’s artwork with care so that Keita could pin them up in his own room.

He was just returning from dropping them off when he walked past the study. Inside he could hear Jun speaking on the telephone. He’d left the door partly open, and he had his back to Sho.

“Are you sure? I’ve only just returned…you know why I had to go!”

Sho knew he ought to keep walking, but most of the staff were celebrating in the kitchen with the leftover cake and a bit of alcohol now that Keita was in bed. Nobody would notice him standing just outside in the hall.

“Toma, we don’t know who else might…” Jun’s shoulders were tense as he gripped the earphone in his hand, speaking into the receiver that he held tightly in his other hand. “How will we ever know?”

It was clearly a personal conversation with his friend, so Sho decided to leave him to it. But it had been a week since he’d been alone with Jun, and he’d missed him despite everything Nino had shown him in his office. Perhaps the truth would come out, in time. For now, Sho hoped he could have the same faith and trust in Jun that Nino had.

He went upstairs, impulsively moving down the hall to Jun’s rooms when he confirmed that nobody else could see him. After Jun’s surprise for Keita that morning, Sho wondered if it was right to surprise him in return. He moved from the sitting room to Jun’s bedroom, leaving the light off as he shut the door behind him, standing beside it.

Jun arrived a few minutes later, the main door to the master’s suite opening and closing. Sho concentrated on breathing quietly, feeling rather embarrassed as he heard Jun pour himself a drink in the other room. Maybe he should have saved his surprise for the sitting room. How long would it be before Jun even came into his bedroom? And how silly would he look now emerging from Jun’s room and making himself known?

He heard Jun set down the glass a short time later, his footsteps coming toward the bedroom. Finally, his stupid chance had come. As soon as Jun opened the door, walking into the bedroom, Sho snuck up on him from behind, moving to embrace him.

So it surprised him entirely when Jun whirled around with astonishing speed, punching Sho right in the gut. He staggered back, tripping over what was probably one of Jun’s travel suitcases. Unable to see in the dark, he landed on the floor hard. When he heard the nightstand drawer open and an unfamiliar but bone-chilling click, he knew he was in trouble.

“It’s me!” he gasped, wind mostly knocked out of him. “Jun, it’s me!”

The lamp on the nightstand went on, and Sho found himself on the bedroom floor, holding up his hands as Jun trained a revolver on him. That was the click he’d heard, Jun getting the gun out of the drawer and preparing to fire. Sho had never actually seen one in person before, and his jaw dropped.

Jun lowered it in an instant when he saw it was him. “What the fuck are you doing?” Jun hissed at him, fumbling with some mechanism that presumably kept it from firing. He quickly returned it to the drawer and came over, kneeling on the floor beside him. “Don’t come up behind me like that, I thought you were a thief!”

“A thief?” Sho complained, stomach aching from Jun’s strong punch. Where had he learned to hit like that? Sho could only imagine how much worse he’d feel if Jun had been able to punch him with the lights on. He took a breath, grimacing. “Why the hell would a thief come all the way out to this house in the cold?”

Jun sighed, getting to his feet again and holding out a hand to hoist Sho up. Sho wobbled a little, as he’d fallen hard on his backside. Jun held him steady. He looked up, still a bit shocked.

“You keep a loaded gun in this house?”

“For my protection.”

“From whom? Someone trying to give you a romantic surprise?”

“Romantic,” Jun chided him, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’re lucky I didn’t kick you when you went down, I could have broken your ribs.”

Sho shrugged Jun off, moving to sit on the bed. His abdomen was still throbbing, but he’d feel better soon enough. “Well thanks for that then.”

Jun sat beside him, resting a hand on his thigh. “That was really stupid of you.”

“I’m aware of it now.” Jun’s hand was warm, and Sho only just realized how hard he was trembling. It wasn’t every day a man punched him, much less held a gun on him. “I’m sorry.”

“I just reacted. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“You’re very fast.”

“Yeah.”

“For what it’s worth,” Sho said quietly, “I missed you, and the stupidity of that feeling resulted in me skulking around in here like a child playing hide and seek. I suppose you’ll remind me of this moment whenever you feel like laughing about something.”

“Probably.” Jun’s voice was teasing. “You haven’t wet yourself, have you?”

“No!”

Jun gave his shoulder a gentle push. “Keep your voice down, would you? This is my house and I’ll make whatever noise I like, but since you’re all about discretion…”

He turned, reaching for Jun’s tie and pulling him close. Jun batted his hand away from his expensive tie but met Sho with equal enthusiasm. The closed bedroom door had served very well to keep things from escalating between them so far, but Sho had been the one to venture inside. He knew what that meant and Jun probably did too. They kissed like they hadn’t seen one another for a year rather than a week. It was so easy to get lost in it, to let physical need take over with Jun’s skilled and dangerous mouth on his own.

Jun eventually moved back, taking off his glasses when it grew far too awkward to keep them on, putting them on the bedside table. “Let me lock the door.”

Sho sat there, breathing heavily as Jun got up, heading out to lock the main door. When he returned, he shut the bedroom door and locked it as well. “Sometimes Aiba is very determined to bother me,” Jun said, taking off his suit jacket and putting it on a chair.

Sho sat there on the bed, watching with growing interest as Jun loosened his tie, tugging it off and setting it down on one of his chests of drawers. Before he could start on his buttons, Sho spoke.

“Slower.”

Jun raised an eyebrow at the command but did as he was told. Sho watched, barely acknowledging the dull ache in his gut, as Jun slowly brought his fingers first to his cuffs, undoing the cufflinks and setting them down on top of the drawer beside his tie. Next were the buttons on his shirt, one at a time, and then he was pulling it off. Underneath he had on a simple white sleeveless undershirt, and Sho inhaled sharply at the sight of the well-defined muscles of his arms, the line of his collarbone.

Sho sat there on the bed, still fully clothed, as Jun slipped out of his shoes and socks and reached for his belt, sliding the leather through the loops of his slacks and letting it drop to the floor. The trousers were next, and Jun deliberately folded them up neatly, draping them over the chair. He was clad only in that undershirt and a body-hugging pair of underwear as he approached the bed.

“How are you feeling?” he asked gently, reaching out a hand to stroke Sho’s stomach through his layers of clothes.

“Been better,” Sho admitted.

“Come on,” Jun said, “your turn.”

He tugged Sho to his feet and where Sho had thought Jun’s own pace at undressing was slow (on his orders, of course), Jun undressed him at an even more leisurely speed. Sho tried to help him along, trying to undo the buttons of the waistcoat he’d worn that day and getting a gentle reprimanding slap on the hand from Jun.

“I’ll do it.”

Where Jun had taken obvious care with his own clothes, he wasn’t all that concerned about Sho’s. Once the waistcoat was on the floor, Jun was working on his shirt, spacing out each unbuttoning with a kiss that left Sho weak in the knees. Another button, another kiss. Another button, another kiss. Once his shirt was untucked from his slacks and fully open, Jun left it on him, tracing his fingers down Sho’s chest for a moment, caressing his belly.

“I really am sorry,” he murmured.

“Lesson learned,” Sho said.

Jun slipped his shirt from his shoulders, letting it fall to his floor and leaning in for another kiss. Sho opened his mouth, sighing as he let Jun’s tongue slip inside, exploring and teasing. He lifted his hands, feeling Jun shiver when he reached out to touch warm, bare skin, tracing up and down his arms.

Jun managed to tug away his belt, reaching for his zipper. When his slacks were gone, Jun kissed the corner of his mouth. “Back. Lay back.”

Sho did as he was ordered, getting back onto the bed and scooting a little. Jun yanked his socks off with swift tugs and then moved at a pace that was just as torturous as each of his kisses had been. Instead of joining Sho, Jun instead kissed his way north, up from the bones of Sho’s ankles and up his leg, ticklishly soft kisses that had him unsure whether he should laugh or beg for him to continue.

Jun positioned himself between Sho’s legs, spreading them so he could bring his lips along the sensitive skin of his inner thighs, long lingering kisses that had Sho’s legs shaking, had his cock hard and aching to be free of his underwear. Jun seemed to understand this, immediately taking his mouth away and starting over, kissing his way up Sho’s other leg.

“You did say slower,” Jun teased him, a breath ticklish against his shin.

Sho groaned when Jun’s progress became almost too slow. When Jun had made his way back up, his tongue sliding along the edge where the cotton of his trunks met his thigh, Sho moved his hand to the back of Jun’s head, threading his fingers through his dark locks.

“Want you,” he complained, trying to keep from thrusting up his hips when Jun started kissing his way up further, hard and hot along the waistband of his trunks. Anywhere, Sho realized, but where he most wanted Jun’s mouth to be. “Touch me.”

It had been so long since anyone had touched him. Even in all their alone time so far, Jun and he had not yet crossed this boundary. Now Sho was teetering at the edge, worrying he was going to come before Jun even touched him. As soon as Jun’s mouth inched over, lips ghosting along the pulsing hot length of him, Sho arched up.

“Oh Sho-san, really,” Jun murmured, palm of his hand moving to cup his balls through the fabric as he continued to tease with his mouth.

“I’d rather not make a mess of my underwear,” Sho complained, fingers shaking as he held onto Jun’s hair.

“Then don’t,” Jun said simply.

But then he kept right on, not removing Sho’s underwear but pressing lingering kisses against him. “You’re too good at this,” Sho complained. “I’ll only disappoint you…”

Jun stopped, crawling up the bed to press a firm kiss to his mouth. Jun then traced Sho’s lips with his fingers. “With a mouth like yours, how could you ever disappoint me?”

Sho rolled his eyes, letting Jun kiss him again, letting Jun swallow his moan when he finally slipped a hand into his underwear, stroking him. When Jun’s thumb swiped along the sensitive head of his cock, he knew he’d be done for soon.

“I’ll have more self-control next time,” Sho vowed. “But will you please…will you…”

Jun kissed him and then gave him a rather condescending pat on the cheek. “Since you asked so nicely, I suppose I can be nice too.”

Jun moved again, sliding Sho’s trunks down and letting his erection free. Jun’s grip was firm, taking Sho’s erection in hand and pumping him a few times before lapping up a few pearls of pre-come glistening on the head of his cock.

“Oh my god…”

Jun chuckled. “You’re very adorable when you’ve lost control, Sensei. And to think, I haven’t even done much to you yet.”

“Shut up,” he whined. “I haven’t been with many people before and I…”

Jun swirled his tongue around the head of his cock once, twice, before starting to suck, timing the stroke of his hand to match his rhythm. Sho lay back, shutting his eyes and putting a hand over his mouth to keep from being too noisy. It didn’t take much more than a few more strokes, Jun taking Sho’s cock nearly to the back of his throat before he was panting, trying to keep from jerking about and making Jun choke.

He tried to offer Jun a warning, a hand to the top of his head but it only made Jun’s movements faster. Sho listened to the obscene sound of the act, realizing that he was about to come in a nobleman’s mouth. And that did it.

“Jun,” he groaned, “Jun, Jun, Jun…”

He lay back, seeing stars and breathing heavily. Jun was right, he hadn’t done all that much to him yet, but he felt a satisfaction he could barely describe. It had been so long since someone had made him come like this.

“I’ll…allow me to also…allow me to…”

Jun was already crawling up alongside him, kissing his sweaty face, breathing him in, not giving a damn how lost in pleasure he was, how silly he probably looked. Sho was adrift in his foolish ideas. He hadn’t just come in a nobleman’s mouth…said nobleman had swallowed it all down without complaint. The part of his brain that hadn’t entirely short-circuited from his release reminded him that Jun wasn’t technically a nobleman, et cetera et cetera, but…

“Sho.”

“Mmm?”

“Another time will be fine.” Jun’s chuckle sent a fresh wave of warmth through him. “I’d rather you not fall asleep halfway through sucking me off because I’d be forced to tease you about it until the day I die.”

Sho knew he ought to leave, ought to get up and head for his own room. And yet Jun was gently tugging his trunks back up his legs, moving the blankets so they could both get under them. He wasn’t sure what excuse would even work come morning, but they’d decide upon that when the time came.

For now, Sho let Jun manipulate him as he saw fit, returning Jun’s long, passionate kisses with pathetic lethargy, missing Jun’s mouth half the time and earning more laughter. Jun eventually gave up, moving to turn out the light. He shoved Sho over to the other half of the bed, rolling him onto his belly so he could squeeze his ass.

“Do you snore?” Jun murmured maybe a foot away.

“Terribly.”

“I’ll punish you for that.”

He laughed softly, still feeling the phantom heat of Jun’s mouth on his cock even now, wondering when he might experience such a thing again. “I look forward to accepting whatever you dole out.”

He felt Jun’s fingers stroke his arm. “Good night, Sensei.”

“Good night.”



True to his word, Jun woke him in the middle of the night. Sho was disoriented, unsure where he even was at first until realizing just whose unfamiliar bed he was sleeping in.

The warmth Sho had felt was suddenly wrenched away. Jun had tugged the blankets off of him. Having fallen asleep in only his underwear, he was alarmed by the chill. He felt Jun move on the mattress beside him, and then the light was on.

“What the hell?” Sho grumbled, shutting his eyes to block it out.

“You snore like a foghorn,” came Jun’s voice.

“Sorry.”

“Lie on your back.”

Half asleep, shivering a little, Sho still did as he was told. “I could look at you for days and not get tired of it,” Jun said, sounding sleepy himself, “but listening to you snore is another matter.”

“Should I go back to my room?”

“No.”

He cracked one eye open, seeing that Jun was moving again, removing his undershirt. Sho’s legs were wrenched apart and Jun knelt between them, teasing fingers up and down Sho’s thighs. Suddenly exposed like this, the blankets pulled away, Sho couldn’t help but wonder what Jun was planning. He opened both eyes, blinking a little.

He watched, a little confused as Jun started to touch himself, running a hand along his own bare chest, tracing one of his nipples.

“What are you doing?”

Jun licked his lips, one hand touching his chest, the other moving up and down Sho’s leg. “Punishment.”

“Too tired for punishment.”

“Just lie there. I distinctly remember you saying you’d accept whatever I did.”

Sho shut up. Jun had him there.

He watched Jun, waking a little more second by second, unable to look away. Jun stayed right where he was, kneeling between Sho’s legs. Eventually he shimmied his own underwear down his legs, exposing himself and making Sho inhale sharply in anticipation. In the shadowy bedroom, he watched as Jun started to touch his cock.

Soon enough their eyes met. And the contact didn’t break. Sho just kept looking at him, Jun watching him in return, the only sound in the room being their breathing and the slick sound of Jun working his cock.

“Touch your lips. Very slowly,” Jun ordered him.

Sho did so, moving his index and middle fingers to his bottom lip. He stroked back and forth, seeing Jun’s concentration waver a little. But he didn’t stop.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted you?” Jun asked.

“Tell me.”

“From the day you arrived. When you sat in that chair, when I first saw your face.”

“Liar,” Sho whispered.

It was almost impossible to look Jun in the eyes the more it went on, but that was what Jun wanted. Jun wanted to look at him, Jun needed to look at him. He could tell that Jun was touching himself with almost punishing strokes, the sound of it shooting straight to his groin, making him hard again.

He traced his own mouth once more, hearing Jun’s soft little gasp of encouragement. When he slipped a finger past his lips, sucking, Jun seemed to be struggling to keep his eyes open. They didn’t speak any longer, only giving into baser feelings, primal urges. Sho sucked his finger, listening to Jun’s breaths grow more ragged and desperate, listening as he jerked off.

With his other hand he palmed himself through his underwear, wondering if Jun wanted to be inside of him. Wondering if Jun wanted to fuck him. He realized how badly he wanted that, how badly he wanted Jun to come inside him. He wondered if Jun was thinking about it too, unable to say it but fantasizing about it as he knelt there between Sho’s legs.

He blinked, his own breath unsteady. When Jun finally broke eye contact, shutting his eyes and letting out a moan, Sho felt like he’d earned some strange sort of victory. He shoved his trunks down, joining Jun in a frenzied rush. As soon as Jun let out a desperate whimper, he moved, adjusting his position and bracing one hand on the mattress beside Sho. He felt pressure against his own abdomen and then warmth as Jun did his best to keep from making too much of a mess.

Sho moaned as Jun continued to pump his cock, his fist almost kneading against Sho’s belly as he came, some of his hot release escaping to pool in Sho’s navel. That soon put Sho over the edge again himself, and Jun had barely finished when Sho dirtied himself further, his own come mingling with Jun’s against his belly.

He felt Jun’s mouth at his neck, kissing and sucking gently at his skin, before he got up and headed for his bathroom. He returned with a damp washcloth, cleaning Sho and then himself.

This time when the lights were turned off again, Jun didn’t push him away. Jun didn’t tease him or whine about the snoring that would inevitably come once Sho fell asleep again.

Instead Jun turned them so they were on their sides, the whole solid, strong length of Jun’s body pressed up behind his own. He felt the feather-light brush of Jun’s mouth against his shoulder.

“I’ll tell you. Sho, I’ll tell you everything.”

He let out a breath, astonished. He knew exactly what Jun meant by ‘everything.’

“When?”

“Soon.”



There was something thrilling about how they had to keep things secret. After that first night, Aiba had knocked at the door in the morning. Jun had pulled Sho into the sitting room, shoving a pillow and blanket at him. Opening the door in his bathrobe, it would look to anyone like Sho had simply fallen asleep on the sofa while Jun had slept in his room.

On the second night, Sho had knelt before Jun and sucked his cock until his jaw ached and his body was screaming for him to get up. But Jun’s hand in his hair, his desperate gasps for it only urged Sho on, swallowing once and then again a short time later when he’d touched and kissed Jun into a frenzied second time. The sound of his name falling from Jun’s lips could have urged him on all night, but he eventually had to retire, leaving Jun in an exhausted heap on the sofa and grinning as he shut the door behind him.

On the third night, Jun had told him shortly after dinner that it was best they take a break. Sho had gone to bed disappointed, only to be woken in the middle of the night by Jun crawling into his bed. Jun pressed a hand over his mouth, laughing.

“I locked the door,” Sho mumbled against his palm. “How did you…?”

Jun didn’t answer, instead kissing him and slipping his hand into his underwear, whispering again and again that Sho had to be quiet or he’d wake up poor Mao-chan with his cries. Jun brought him close to the edge over and over, stroking him until he was just about to come and then stopping. He was on the brink of tears, thrusting himself against Jun’s hand, wanting so badly to come. But every time Jun would get him there and stop abruptly, his voice hot and demanding by his ear.

“Not yet, I know you can do it.”

And he wanted to please him. He wanted to please him so desperately. God, he’d do anything…

Jun had him close once more, and by now Sho had lost count. This time when he stopped, he stroked Sho’s forehead with his fingers, moving his sweaty hair aside. “I’ve brought something,” he murmured. “Let me touch you.”

Fumbling in the dark, he felt around until he found Jun’s hand, a small bottle with a cap. “What’s that?”

“Just relax.”

Whatever it was, some oil or cream, Jun generously coated his fingers with it. Sho covered his mouth, gasping when Jun spread his legs, circling his fingers around his hole, slicking him down further. He exhaled hard when Jun slowly inserted a finger inside him. Sho’s cock, still achingly hard and now neglected, rested heavily against his belly as Jun started to touch him.

“Quiet, stay quiet,” Jun ordered him, and Sho was desperate to try, but it wasn’t exactly easy. He shut his eyes, adjusting to the sensation as Jun’s finger slowly worked in and out of him. Jun was close every step of the way, teasing the fingers of his other hand along Sho’s abdomen, across his hip bone. Before too long, Sho felt a further intrusion, Jun adding a second finger, his careful, shallow thrusting making Sho moan quietly.

As the minutes ticked away, Jun’s movements grew more hurried, his fingers moving faster, deeper inside until he reached again for Sho’s cock. He alternated skillfully, fingers moving within him, his other hand pumping Sho. When Jun deliberately angled his fingers inside Sho, finding his prostate, Sho knew he was done for, gasping Jun’s name.

“It’s okay,” Jun said, “it’s okay.”

Jun moved his hand, tugging quickly for Sho’s pajama top, pulling the fabric over his cock so he wouldn’t come everywhere. Jun’s fingers slowed within him, long and thorough strokes that left Sho a quivering mess. He felt empty when Jun withdrew them, turning on the light, leaving him on the bed exhausted.

“What about…what about my shirt…” he whispered into the darkened bedroom.

Jun had no answers, merely kissing him goodbye and slipping out the door. As Sho stood in front of the sink early the next morning scrubbing his pajama top desperately so Haru-san wouldn’t be alarmed when it was time to do his laundry, he thought about what had happened.

He knew there were two sets of master keys to Pinetree Manor. One set was Aiba’s, the other was Haru’s. Jun definitely didn’t have a key to his room.

So how the hell had he gotten in?

Part Six

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