Part Cinque
“No, I didn’t want to go first.”
“Well, then. Guess we better go through all the supplies Takahashi-sensei left for us, ne?”
Mitsuru hunkered down by the fire and cheerfully plundered the rucksack the chief had left, along with the generous supply of firewood. He emerged with some granola bars and grinned, waggling the goodies in front of Shinobu’s face.
Shinobu smiled reluctantly. So Mitsu wasn’t going to make this easy. Fine. They had all night, if the growing bay of the rising winds were any indication. Shinobu left his spot by the door and joined his friend in demolishing the food provided.
****
Five granola bars and two mugs of steaming coffee later found the two sitting side by side in companionable silence by the fire. Mitsuru had drawn the blankets over their legs and was currently playing with his empty plastic mug. He tossed it lightly from hand to hand and if Shinobu wasn’t mistaken, it looked as if the boy was also tossing about something in his head.
Before Shinobu could broach the subject, Mitsuru beat him to the punch.
“Shin, what were you going to tell me before the troll and his dad walked in?”
“Ah…”
It was the perfect opening. They were both relaxed and replete with food and warmth. The crackling fire, their only source of light, made Shinobu feel as if they were marooned on a tiny island of tranquil heat as they huddled together in front of it. It should have been the perfect opening.
But Shinobu had lost his momentum. He had been so ready twenty minutes ago but they had been busy setting themselves up for the night and when that was all done, they had slipped back into the easy camaraderie of innocent roommates. Even Mitsuru’s initiation of the topic was spoken with casual ingenuousness. Shinobu feared rejection. He feared the deafening crash of his breaking heart.
“Don’t worry about it, Mitsuru. It was nothing important.” Just a deep, powerful love for you.
“Oh, okay. If you’re sure..?” He keeps his secrets so close to his chest.
“I’m sure. Hand me another log, ne? I don’t want this fire to die down.” Not the way this fire inside me seems to be dwindling.
“Hai. So, what shall we do while we wait?” If you tell me your secret, I’ll tell you mine.
“Well, we could discuss your troll problems which you seem unable to get away from.” And which apparently gives you a sense of repulsion, thinking about another boy liking you.
“Are you sure you’re up to studying that tonight?” Why are you skirting the issue? Isn’t this what we’ve been waiting all week for? Don’t you like me anymore?
“No, I suppose you’re right.” I need to get away from you. Your scent, your skin…you’re driving me crazy!
“Shin, you really need to come back here. It’s cold. And it’s not like you can see anything out that window anyway.” You are so beautiful and you don’t even know it. I could stare at the curve of your spine forever.
“The moon looks exceptionally full tonight.” Do you know how tempting you are, your voice cajoling me with its soft cadence? I can’t look at you right now; I might shatter into a thousand pieces.
“You can see the moon?” You may have changed your mind. I could’ve been just a passing fancy. I probably misheard those words you said when I took you to our room that night you got drunk.
Mitsuru left the warmth of fire and blankets and crept to the window by his friend. Shinobu stood stiffly, arms to his sides, fingers slightly curled as if half-tempted to clench into fists. The words exchanged felt awkward and Shinobu wondered where the easy camaraderie had gone. They mentally shied away from each other – two people performing a stilted dance.
“Hai. It’s beautiful.” Listen to me. Just listen to my words, taste their nuances, feel the meaning that runs deeper than vowels and consonants of sound.
“The clouds will cover it soon, though.” Turn to me. Look at me. Reassure me that this is real. This. You. And me.
“Mitsuru…” Shinobu, as if he had read his friend’s mind, turned away from the window and faced the other boy. Their gazes locked.
It was as if they had never been interrupted. The same eager look was on Mitsuru’s face. A dawning comprehension and awe danced upon Shinobu’s. They shared an unspoken, breathless second of illumination. And in that briefest of moments, when their minds and hearts joined in exquisite synchronicity, Shinobu felt like flying.
He raised a tentative hand to Mitsuru’s face and pressed it to his cheek in wonderment. His movement was smooth and uninterrupted by irrelevant motion. Touching the smooth skin at long last felt incredibly hedonistic, and Shinobu paused and closed his eyes, his heart full.
Mitsuru countered his move as he placed his own hand on top of his friend’s. The strength and certainty of this act, coupled with his drawing even closer so that only a whisper separated them, was almost Shinobu’s undoing. He opened his eyes once more, a glimmer of moisture lurking in their grey-green depths.
“I think I love you.” Shinobu breathed softly.
“You think?” Mitsuru answered, equally as soft.
Letting go of Shinobu’s hand on his cheek, the blond-haired boy gently cupped his friend’s face between his two. Tilting it to meet his own, drawing nearer to lips that quivered slightly, Mitsuru wanted nothing more than to cherish this vessel that so adequately housed the other half of his soul.
Shinobu was fiercely moved by the sweet sincerity of his touch. He wanted to capture this memory in a little box and lock it away safely where no one could ever take it from him. Nothing could compare to this bliss, this tender torture of waiting. He knew the kiss was a surety, but it was this right-before, this almost-there, that Shinobu would treasure forever.
“I know. I know I love you.”
The words trembled in the diminishing space between them.
“I love you too.”
It was a mutual magic. Neither one knew nor cared who was in control. Reason ceased to be. All that remained was unutterable rapture. Eyes closed to shut out the fire, the moon, the cabin, so that all sensation was solely centered on the sensual convergence of lips against lips. Mitsuru dropped his hands from the other’s face, clutched at his friend’s shoulders and pulled Shinobu deeper into the kiss. Shinobu responded with fervent ardor, wrapping his arms around the lithe, lean body so gloriously pressed against his.
Mouths parted slowly, tongues artlessly entwined. Hands restlessly roamed a back, an arm, a thigh. The tenderness was slowly, inexorably being replaced by a ferocious lust, long held in check and now threatening to break free. It was getting warmer in the cabin. Clothes suddenly seemed unnecessary.
Shinobu tugged at Mitsuru’s shirt; Mitsuru did the same with Shinobu’s sweater. They drew apart reluctantly so Shinobu could lift his sweater over his head, and Mitsuru took the opportunity to undress himself as well. Hastily, frantically, they discarded anything that obstructed flesh against warm flesh. It would have been comedy if not for the electric charge of unspent desire in the air.
But when he got to the waistband of his boxers, Shinobu paused. Is this what he wants…?
The other boy did not give him time to analyze the situation to death. Already naked, tanned skin gleaming in the firelight, Mitsuru seized his lover in a vise-like grip, effectively pinioning Shinobu to his muscled chest. He groaned deep in his throat at the feel of the boy’s responsive body, and captured that errant mouth with his own once more.
Shinobu gave up thinking. Their lips still locked, he shucked off his boxers with abandon then pulled Mitsuru toward the fire, nearer the heat. They stumbled over the rucksack and fell, limbs entwined, on top of parkas and blankets.
It was a wild coupling, a feverish release of pent-up longing and frustration. They gasped and touched and clutched and kissed. They took turns adoring each other’s bodies with questing tongues and insatiable fingers. They strained together then pulled apart in an erotic dance of give and take. Their bodies moved instinctively, fitting together in tight, dark, secret places. And at the moment of complete unity, they shivered in each other’s arms, almost afraid of the maelstrom of unadulterated passion that promised to engulf them.
“Shin…?” Mitsuru begged desperately.
“Yes!”
The initial pain was soon forgotten, eclipsed by the crescendo of release and fulfillment.
****
Outside, the wind continued to roar dully, its fury still in full force. Snow fell in blinding whiteness and piled high on the ground, efficiently covering the earth with dangerous beauty. Inside the cabin, however, all was warmth and woozy contentment. The fire crackled and spit while Shinobu nestled in the arms of his lover, body still slick with sweat and semen. Mitsuru had piled the blankets on top of them, and both boys glowed in the aftermath of their lovemaking.
“You said you didn’t like boys,” Shinobu whispered drowsily as he stared into the fire.
“I don’t like boys, Shin. I love you,” was Mitsuru’s inscrutable retort.
The silver-haired boy accepted this remark with satisfaction then stretched languidly, arching his back so that he pressed even closer to his lover’s chest. “And you do it so well,” he replied in a suggestive purr.
“Hai,” Mitsuru was smug.
They listened to the howl of the wind, unmindful now of the drafts that crept in through the chinks in the logs. They were immune to the cold, wrapped as they were in a possessive embrace. The couple knew there was more to be said, more to be explained, before they could slip comfortably into the skin of this new relationship. But that could wait till the morning.
Shinobu got bored staring at the fire, and a devilish smirk crept up his face. Pretending to stretch again, he nudged at Mitsuru with his buttocks. The answering arousal that met him made Shinobu grin even wider.
“Mitsu, can we do it again?”
In response, Mitsuru expertly flipped his lover to face him and ravaged his mouth hungrily. Shinobu sighed.
“I can taste tomorrow in your kiss.”