For Gotou-chan!

[wontreadthemanual]

"It's a team-building exercise, Gotou-chan!" I told you, beaming broadly.

Of course, this was directly after locking us into one of the unused office spaces in the Kougami Foundation building, opening the window, and dropping the key out the window, thirteen floors to the ground. And then turning around and seeing that face you always give me when I've just done something of this caliber of stupid.

But I've been trying to get up the courage to talk to you for months now. It just never happens. And it's got to. I can't go on like this for much longer.

So, here we are.

"Team-building?" I say again, with a hopeful beaming smile. "Team Birth needs bonding exercises!"

Comments

[wontreadthemanual]

His heart's beating so fast; he's so warm against me, and we're both completely clothed, so the only skin I can reach of him are his face and his hands, and those are smooth and thin and holding on to me, holding me close. Expressing clear want, clear desire.

He's drunk.

He's kissing me, actively, eagerly, and he probably doesn't realize the soft, needy nasal sounds he's making. I do.

My fingertips are rough from a life lived outdoors, but I can still appreciate the smooth delicacy of his jaw and cheekbone, the structure of his jaw. And as he opens his mouth to mine, letting my tongue lick slowly and tentatively against the tip of his, I can feel his cheeks hollow out against the gentle touch of my fingertips.

I can't help but suck inward, a gasp and a hungry sound, kissing him harder, tracing the contours of his face with fascinated fingertips. I gently drag my touch across to the corner of his parted lips, letting my fingers learn the shapes of our mouths as they fit together. Then, the gentle bulge of his tongue - and mine? - swells the soft plane of his cheek against my fingertips, just for a second, and I am so overcome that I must pull back, or maybe die.

"Shintaro!" I can't help it, his name, his given name, escapes my lips on a desperate groan, breathed very nearly into his own mouth.

[doestheresearch]

"Yes? What?" But he's moving away from me now. Did I bite his tongue or something? I try to sit up, again, but have to use him to help me keep my balance because for some reason my head has started swimming.

No one calls me Shintaro. Not even my mother; she says "Shin-chan."

My lips are kind of swollen and wet, but if I wipe them, it'll look rude, as if I'm trying to wipe traces of him off me or something. I don't want to do that. It was a nice kiss and, well, we're more than friends now.

[wontreadthemanual]

His mouth is plush and red and wet from our kiss; his eyes are dark, pupils widened; his heart rate is elevated, his breath catching in his throat as he pushes himself upward, following my retreat.

I'm glad that I can trust part of my brain to clinically catalogue these sorts of details; I can trust that in that way, I'm observing his physical state fairly, equitably. That he's not displaying signs of nonconsent which my lesser nature has yet to heed.

So the immense guilt that I felt closing in on me pauses, waiting for further input before the final determination of whether I truly am an awful lecherous aibou who's taking advantage of his junior partner while he's intoxicated and cannot defend himself.

"Shintaro," I say again, breathing the syllables reverently; it feels like the greatest intimacy, to call him by his first name, looking into his eyes from so close like this; I know my expression has to be extremely intense right now but it's only fair that it convey the emotion I'm feeling right now.

"Shintaro!"

I might be getting lightheaded just from calling him by his given name.

[doestheresearch]

"You were right the first time, that's definitely my name," I supply helpfully. But he's still saying it. He's acting a little strangely this evening. If any of the neighbours hear him yelling my name, they'll probably think we're getting up to something funny.

He's breathing very heavily, and his expression is, well, it's - intense. I'm beginning to worry. Is he about to have a fit or something? Maybe I should call an ambulance, "hey, Date-san, are you OK?" I can't remember where I left my phone. He must have one in the house, right?

I try to get up off the futon and look for it but once again my head is spinning. Please, please not now.

[wontreadthemanual]

...Right. Drunk.

VERY drunk.

Calling myself ten kinds of jackass, I gently push Gotou-chan back onto my futon, covering him with enough layers of thick blankets that hopefully he'll be unable to get free of them fast enough to follow me.

"I'm fine, Gotou-chan. I'm going to go out and get some things from the convenience store around the corner, I'll be back shortly." I push myself up, standing, stepping away, managing the door lock with admirable smoothness.

"Stay here, I'll be right back."

The door closes behind me with a reassuring clack, and I lock it just for my own reassurance's sake; I really don't want Gotou-chan trying to follow me in his state. But I need some space, and some distance, and some sense.

Reassuring myself doesn't net much success. At least all I did was kiss him, I could argue, except I also called him by his given name. Without permission, three times.

I need to jog down to the bathhouse and cool my head off, literally, and perhaps the rest of me too just to drive the point home. Now that I'm outside in the much more brisk night air, I'm noticing my body's got all sorts of opinions about the man currently in my bed.

None of them asked-for, either.

I'll get myself shaped up, I'll bring him back a cool bottle of water and perhaps something with electrolytes, and an anpan, since he probably really hasn't had much to eat today, and that's a recipe for severe hangover tomorrow if I don't treat him.

I'll take care of him like a good aibou should.

And I'll stop letting my selfishness dictate my behavior towards him.

I'm sorry, Hino, I'm thinking, as I hit full on sprint pace, bypassing the nearest convenience store and aiming myself toward the one five blocks away, to give myself a heavier workout.

You were wrong. I shouldn't have said anything after all.

[doestheresearch]

Date-san is gone a long time. At some point, I doze, but when I wake up again he's still not back.

Needless to say, I'm feeling like a bit of an idiot. I can vaguely remember a bunch of events from last night: tripping over, something about cats, and running away from a taxi without paying. Why did I drink so much? It's not like me, and I thought I was supposed to stop at one or two so I could take care of Date-san.

I can remember other things that happened with Date-san, too. It's better I wait until he gets back before I start thinking about it all.

I need an aspirin or two, but it's rude to go snooping through someone's bathroom cabinets, so I rinse my face in the sink and put a cold washcloth on my face for a few moments. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I made a cup of tea but I feel like even that is too intrusive. Instead, I sit on the sofa till I start to feel better and then begin tidying around the house, as best as I can without looking through anything or moving it around too much. It's not dirty here, it just looks a little ... neglected? Probably because Date-san doesn't spend a lot of time at home.

[Probably forty-five minutes to an hour after leaving]

[wontreadthemanual]

I didn't mean to stay away from the house so long, but once I got moving I found I couldn't really stop. I ran off the alcohol, ran off my arousal, ran off my nerves. I ran until I felt the clean purpose of running in my lungs, and only then I turned my path back toward home.

When I crack the apartment door open again, I'm not sure what I'll find. Of all the things I might have expected, Gotou-chan neatening up my mess is certainly not high on the list.

I've got a shopping bag from the conbini, with energy drinks, anpan, normal bottled water, painkillers, and melon pops because they looked tasty and I got extra points on my card if I added 500¥ more to my purchase. I nearly drop it in rushing over to Gotou-chan's side, grasping his shoulders lightly and sitting him down carefully on the couch. The bag smacks against my shin, and I start digging through it, thoroughly flustered.

"Gotou-chan, what are you thinking? Sit, here, you need food." I glance to the counter near my cabinets and microwave - it's cleaner than it was when I left, which means Gotou-chan hasn't even made himself an instant ramen.

"You haven't eaten enough today, and you'll make yourself sick exerting yourself on so much alcohol." I press an anpan into his hands, digging out a drink that advertised itself as "Very Full" of electrolytes and twisting the cap off for him. "Here, here."

[doestheresearch]

I'm not sure I've got the stomach to eat anything. I feel better, but still wobbly and a little bit nauseous. I'm going to ask in a moment whether he minds if I take some painkillers, but for now I accept the drink, "thank you."

It's very sweet. What's in it? If it contains a lot of sugar, I'll probably feel worse after drinking it. Which reminds me, "didn't I have dinner? How much did I drink? I don't really remember, sorry."

I'm having some trouble holding his gaze. My mental image of last night isn't exactly clear; and of what there is, it's not exactly flattering. I talked nonsense, skipped out on the taxi fare, and fell asleep on him. I'm sure I had plenty of other opportunities to make an idiot of myself. I was supposed to be taking care of him and instead I left him to babysit me all evening. Helping to clean up the place is the least I could do after this embarrassment.

Wait. I wasn't sick, was I?

[wontreadthemanual]

"We had American fries, but we didn't eat a lot other than that. You said you didn't eat much today, Gotou-chan."

I support and soothe him as he drinks, though he doesn't take much and I take the bottle from him to give him one less thing to try to keep balanced. He looks really woozy. Gods, he probably didn't even realize how much he was worsening his condition by moving around so much.

I didn't miss how he kind of discarded the anpan, setting it on the couch beside him with an expression that tells me he may not even realize it's there. I focus on the drink, since he clearly is more up to that right now. "It's an electrolyte drink. It's artificial sweetners, so it won't give you a sugar crash. You need to eat real food, though, so let me know as soon as you feel able."

"I bought some painkillers." The bottle rattles as I begin to free it from its packaging. And he doesn't remember how much he drank, which doesn't surprise me, but I wish even more that I'd kept track for him. "I think you had two or three, actually. Here. I'll give you a one and a half dose for now."

[doestheresearch]

"Just that?" Two or three drinks isn't really a lot. I know bar measures can be pretty heavy-handed, but still, I shouldn't actually be - well, drunk. I'm skinny, though, whereas someone like Date-san with more muscle mass can drink more. If only I'd thought of that before I started hitting the bottle.

I obligingly swallow down a couple of painkillers. After taking a moment to recover from that, I do my best to manage a few bites of anpan. It's actually quite tasty and it goes down easily. I don't want to make myself sick but if I don't eat anything, my sempai will worry. I've got more than enough to apologise for already. So let's start, "Date-san ... Thank you for taking care of me. I'm sorry I drank so much." My inner voice adds and made a fool of myself, and ran away from a taxi without paying, and - I stop there. We'll have time to go over the gory details soon enough.

[wontreadthemanual]

The pills go down hard, and I wince as Gotou-chan works not to gag. I can't blame him, his body's far more overwrought than he realizes, and he's probably dehydrated to boot. I help him with a bit more drink after the anpan, just to wash it down, gently rubbing his back between his shoulderblades.

When he speaks, then, I can feel the way his breath and heart quicken. I can hear the strain in him, and it bothers me.

"It's alright, Gotou-chan." I can't lie to him, but I don't know how to address half a dozen other things that could be said right now. All I can do, is look at our knees, where the corner of the fold of fabric on his right knee is touching the folds on the knee of my left. It's tiny, but it helps. A little.

"You took care of me, too."

I won't specify how, or why. I hope he remembers, so I don't have to explain. And so I'm not the only one who knows about the wrongs I've done him tonight.

[doestheresearch]

"That's a strange way to put it." I know what he's talking about, though I'm not sure I would refer to it as taking care of anything.

It was probably hideously embarrassing. I remember being all over him. Probably not an appealing sight while I was drunk. He deserves a medal just for putting up with me, but I'm not going to bring up that subject again. For the sake of both our sanity we should move on past it, "perhaps I should stay over again at a time when I haven't been drinking so much."

I do my best to finish up the bottle of energy drink. I appreciate that he bought it for me, but why do they sell these things? If it came in a medicine bottle, people would pour it down the sink.

[wontreadthemanual]

"A strange way...?" At first I'm confused, then I understand where Gotou-chan's going with this. Or at least, I think I do.

"Aa.. yes, I could say it more plainly," I admit, feeling a perverse satisfaction in being forced not to hide behind vaguely permissive phrasings. "Thank you for looking after me. Even after I..." This hurts. "...Took advantage of you, Gotou-chan. I shouldn't have--"

I bring myself up sharply, words clattering to a halt like mahjong tiles. Gotou-chan is talking at the same time, saying "should stay over again at a time--"

Which is, with whatever qualifiers, perhaps I should stay over again.

I can't understand what he's saying. I mean, I hear the words, but-- Does he think he has reason to fear me now? Or need to placate me? If he'd returned my feelings he would have said so. Hours - and more kisses than I have any right - and addressing him without permission - stand between that opportunity and where we are now.

If he'd appreciated the first kiss, he would have said so. And even though he didn't, I couldn't maintain proper decorum on my side. That's my fault, and mine alone.

"Gotou-chan, what are you saying? You don't have to pretend for my sake, I'm the one who--"

I have to stop again. My throat's thick and stuffy with emotion, and I look down, away, at the back of my own hand resting on the cushion beside me. It's tough, tanned, a traveling worker's hand. A hand that's supposed to heal.

My head's bowed, and I keep it down, speaking clearly and numbly. "I am sorry, Gotou-chan, for my selfishness."

[doestheresearch]

Selfishness? Taking advantage of me? What is he ...

Is he still upset about locking me in an office and then throwing the key out of the window? Yes, it was a pretty stupid thing to do, but it's not the end of the world, "I don't understand. Sempai ... what's wrong? You haven't done anything selfish. I'm the one who got drunk and couldn't get home." He let me stay the night and went out at dawn to buy painkillers and energy drinks for me, I would say that was very considerate.

He's looking so wretched that I put an arm around his shoulders even though it's probably inappropriate. He won't mind, after all, I thought he loved me? And if I'm being honest, it's too late for me to keep denying how I feel. We may not have much time left together, so we should make the most of it.

[wontreadthemanual]

I'm ashamed to report that my breath catches in my throat when Gotou-chan wraps his arm around me. I've been replaying the whole night in my head all during my run, and it's all settled into clear definition by now.

I told him about the bullet. I told him I loved him. I kissed him, took him out to dinner and got him inebriated, took him back to my apartment and kissed him more. I presumed familiarity without permission, and if I hadn't stopped myself, I would have...gone rather further along than we did.

"You got drunk because I told you I'm wounded," I correct him, my tone firm though weary. I can't say 'dying,' not right now, not ever perhaps. Like I told him earlier, I don't want to think of it that way. It will only upset those around me, and it won't change the facts.

I had almost forgotten about all that, though. Funny how a bullet in your brain is a less pressing matter of attention than the lower lip of the beautifully handsome man in my company.

To whom I still must force myself to make clear my point. I can't let him pretend away the necessity that I apologize for my actions.

"I wasn't considerate of your feelings and then I forced myself on you after promising that I wouldn't, even if you didn't return my feelings."

"I acted poorly, Gotou-chan, and you deserve better."

[doestheresearch]

"I got drunk because we went out for dinner and I didn't eat properly." I'm still an embarrassing lightweight. It's a bit much to get tipsy after two drinks, but I can't really keep up with my sempai - he has a lot more muscle mass than I do. If I had eaten more, the alcohol wouldn't have affected me so fast, "and you did not 'force yourself on me.' I was all over you." Embarrassingly so, but I at least remember that much.

I also remember running away from the taxi without paying (probably my idea), staggering about a bit, and flopping down on his sofa. Thankfully not throwing up or doing anything else too uncouth. But no matter what I say, I know he's going to blame himself for it and the wretchedness on his face is too much to bear. I don't know why he's doing this now of all times. He seems determined to beat himself over the head with it when none of this is his fault.

I was going to say something. Or do something, I don't know what; but the next thing I'm aware of is my hand's on his chin (a little rough, but I like it that way) and tipping it towards me and my lips are on his again. I notice he used the word wounded, he's carefully avoiding anything more specific than that. He loves me and do I love him?

Yes, I do. I think we'll work this out.

[wontreadthemanual]

He hasn't said it in words. He hasn't seen, or perhaps understood, that I saw a 'no' in his actions. That this, now, his mouth lifting to mine, is both baffling and the most sweetly clarifying explanation.

I still don't understand what's been going through his head all evening. Perhaps I understand even less than I thought I did. But I know what this kiss says. I'm not so stuck in scolding myself for poor action that I can't hear him loud and clear now.

I love you, his kiss is saying. I don't know anything more than that, but now I do know that. Now, he's sober, he's had time to think, he's acting of his own will and not guilt for my life or loopiness of alcohol. He's kissing me, and the kiss says I love you.

I lift one crooked knuckle to the underside of his chin, tipping it up ever so gently, letting my eyes slide shut on a blissful sigh. My free hand rises to cup the back of his head, fingers lost in the thickness of his dark curls, and with the tip of my tongue I nudge his lips apart and lose myself in his mouth, his kiss, this single moment.

Finally, after night so long it's become morning, hours we traced on a labyrinth path through the city's nighttime should-haves and couldn't-be's, the air is clear and everything is crisp and oh so calm inside my mind. There's no over-thinking, no worry, no fear, no burden or guilt. Gotou-chan is kissing me, Gotou-chan loves me.

No regrets.

[doestheresearch]

It takes several moments for my brain to launch itself into gear. Although I'm very happy where I am, I'm not getting a lot of oxygen, until some part of me remembers to relax and breathe deeply through my nose. And now his tongue's inside my mouth and his fingers are in my hair and it's all I can do to stay upright. I want to just flop down and surrender and let everything else drift away, and perhaps I will and there will be no offices, no shrieking employers with birthday cakes, no demands for overtime pay or fragments of bullet lodged in soft tissue.

My less conscious self needs no instruction. My jaw is working softly against his and I'm pressing up against him. I'm bony, so it might be a little uncomfortable. Guess that's one of the many little details that we'll unravel over time.

[wontreadthemanual]

Gotou-chan arches against my side, and I am abruptly aware of our positions, sitting side by side on my couch, both of our backs arched to let our lips meet in the middle. His hands have a very loose grip on me, dreamily faint, and my heart shudders with passion, imagining what he must look like right now. What we must look like.

His body's so thin, so much bone seemingly hardly covered, and the heart of the man who wears that body is fierce, beating out a lion's roar against my chest and arm, where we're pressed close enough for me to feel.

I slide my palms up and around to cup his jaw, thumbs rubbing the smooth, hollowed-out planes of his cheeks where I can feel the nudge of our tongues in his mouth. I can barely breathe with how excited I feel, like I'm overflowing with energy that I want to give him. My love, my kisses, myself, yes - and so much more.

I want to lay my hands upon him and pour all of the sunshine of the world into him, watch him rise and glow and just be himself - the amazing warrior, the man of gentle heart, the dedicated policeman and the man humbled for sake of the greater good. I want him to be all of himself, but brighter, for everyone to see and understand.

This is how to be a man of truly good morals and strength, I want them to realize. This man is as pure of heart and intention as any on this globe.

I pull back from our kiss briefly, licking my lips with a shallow gasp, my nose pressed against Gotou-chan's, staying close.

I've seen most of the globe, met many, many people. I know, I've seen for myself.

He's one of the best ones.

[doestheresearch]

He's sort of tracing his thumbs over my cheeks; not roughly, but it makes me aware of how thin I am. I almost feel like he might tear through the skin. It's making me all too aware of how physically fragile I am, which is perhaps not the best quality in a police officer, but compared to Date-san I'm pretty slight. It took him no time at all to master the Birth Buster, and me many painful hours of training.

And then he moves backwards just for oxygen, face still close to mine. Our noses are touching which feels a little strange but it reminds me of something I read about certain tribes in the Pacific Islands, who greet each other by rubbing noses and breathing on each other. Supposedly it's a way of allowing the souls to say hello and if I believed in any such thing then I would grant Date-san a piece of mine.

[wontreadthemanual]

"Gotou-chan." I'm breathing a bit rough, fighting down several urges and all too aware of the torque on my spine, becoming painful, from our posture. I want to return to the futon, this time without misunderstandings between us, without guilt, and hold him close. But, of course, if I simply lead him silently, he may assume I want as much as I assumed he didn't.

"Will you sleep beside me tonight?" I tip my mouth in for another kiss, this one brief and chaste, allowing him space to answer afterward - it's just impossible to keep my mouth far from his right now. Not now that I know I'm permitted there. "I want to embrace you."

[doestheresearch]

"... Is it that late?" I guess I thought it was morning, but maybe it isn't yet. How late did we get back from the restaurant? Either way I'm not averse to the idea, "yes, of course." So I climb down onto the futon and stretch out. I should let him take up more of the room, he's bigger than me, I can just sort of fit in beside him.

He's being awfully formal about this. I guess he doesn't want to do anything without my consent. And I'm touched that he's being so careful with me, but I also worry that he's still hung up on last night. We all do things when we're drunk (I don't, not usually, but there's a first time for everything.) I should say something about it only I don't want to bring it up again and sour the atmosphere.

[wontreadthemanual]

I laugh softly, climbing down to lay beside him, feeling comfortable and optimistic about my little corner of the world. "Maybe morning is a better word for it. It's past five AM."

Gotou-chan seems nervous, stiff maybe, and the doubt that I shouldn't, that I should pull back again, flashes through my mind. But I push it quickly away. He made his feelings clear. And I want to keep showing him mine. Don't second-guess, don't do things we'll regret.

I draw him into my arms once I get settled, wrapping one leg over his knees to hold him close there, too. With his neck pillowed on my upper arm, I stroke through his hair with the other, caressing his temple and cheek, tipping his mouth to mine once again. Now, the position's more comfortable for us both. Now, I can feel his heartbeat even more strongly, and the way that his belly presses against mine when I stretch my body against his. My palm slides down his back, from his shoulder to shoulderblade, fingertips tracing the thin ridge of his spine down to his narrow waist. I hold it there, wanting to reach lower, wanting so much--

I compromise my better nature against my baser one, letting my palm come to rest on the small of Gotou's back, right above his belt in the back. I can't help but push a little once it's there, urging his body closer to mine. My kiss is still reverent, loving, gentle, but deeper now, my greedy tongue always demanding more.

[doestheresearch]

I'm still a bit confused as to what time we got back and how much sleep we got. But I'm a little tired, and a few more hours might be just what we both need. Especially since Date-san was up at the crack of dawn going to the convenience store for me.

So he settles in next to me, and he's got his arms round me and his fingers are going down my spine and right the way down to my lower back and -

and that's where my mind catches itself, like a record skipping. I suppose this is a natural thing to do with someone you love, but it's still so intense, much more so than anything I've tried to do with anyone before. And his touch urges me to push in closer to me, all skin and bone up against his more muscular form. All the heat in my body is travelling downwards with his hand on my lower back and I know that as he presses against me he can feel my breath catching in my chest.

[wontreadthemanual]

My breath is stuttering just as much as Gotou-chan's, and I'm overwhelmed by the closeness of him, the intimacy of how closely we're embraced. He's not wearing his utility vest any longer, thankfully; it's bulky and would surely be more uncomfortable than the lean weight of him in in his dark t-shirt and my arms.

I break our kiss into a series of littler ones, moving from his mouth to kiss his jaw, the corner of his lips, his cheek. Eventually I tuck my face against his neck, just breathing deeply. My body's overwarm, pulse speeding, but I'm not going to listen to its impetuousness. In each other's arms like this, we're both caught up and bespelled simply by our closeness.

There is more, so much more, that could be done. Perhaps someday it will be. But that's not for now. My body wishes it were, but it's an animal body, with desires that are reproductive, not of the heart. Rushing forward would drag us skimming over the surface of this moment. And there will be time for us in our future. Just as much time as we are meant to have, and no more. Rushing through the time we're given will grow no more hours from the minutes trampled in haste.

I would much rather rest here. If we take our time, we sink deeply into this first embrace, let it permeate us as nothing more or less than what it is. I want to spend time in it, because we'll never have it again.

This is my first embrace with the Gotou-chan who loves me as I love him.