WEEK SIX: Friday (Yuzuru)

🍓🍓🍓A/N: This chapter is

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NOT KIDDING GUYS!!!🍓🍓🍓

A burning thirst at the back of my throat dragged me from the embrace of sleep. My eyes felt kind of swollen in my skull, and my brain was throbbing.

The first thing I did was flail out across the bed for Seryou, but he wasn't there. Gradually my senses informed me that I wasn't in Seryou's room. I was lying in bed in Grandfather's guest room, and I was alone. A foul taste in my mouth and prevailing need to pee were equally unpleasant discoveries. Grunting, I rolled onto my side, looking for my phone on the nightstand so I could figure out what time it was.

The phone was there, but it was sitting next to a glass of water that stole my attention. I worked myself onto an elbow and grabbed the glass, gulping down its contents in one breath. Oh, there was an entire pitcher of water on the nightstand. I used it to refill the glass, then noticed a yellow sticky note underneath a bottle of pain relievers.

Good morning

Sleep as long as you need to, and take some of these when you wake up!

~T

How had he known I was going to wake up feeling like shit? How had we even gotten home from karaoke last night? I didn't remember.

And never mind all that, why did I feel like shit? Was I sick?

I shook four of the pain relievers into my hand and gulped them down with another glass of water. Now I was headachy and queasy, with a stomach full of liquid, but my mouth was still thirsty. Shifting under the covers felt strange, so I lifted them to look down at myself.

Why am I naked? Well, half-naked, but it was the less likely half. What the hell had happened last night? The underarms and neck of my t-shirt were damp with sweat, and my hair was clumping in my eyes.

Shower. I wanted a shower.

I picked up my phone from the nightstand and clicked it on. Holy shit, it was nine thirty. Murata-sensei was probably waiting for me downstairs. Seryou was probably working in the coffee shop already. I had to get moving.

I swung my legs out of bed, dragging the sheet around my waist, and padded miserably across the carpet to the bathroom. Inside, everything was too bright. The light reflected off the white floors and counters, the white walls and tub, like it was trying to punish my eyeballs for whatever sins I'd committed last night. I visited the toilet first. Then made it to the shower, fumbled for the controls, and turned the water on. While waiting for it to heat up, I went over to the sink to get my shirt off.

My reflection in the mirror was a disaster. I had crispy gel in my hair, and my eyes were bloodshot and puffy. On the counter sat a dish filled with small round things that turned out to be buttons.

I stared at them stupidly for a second, and then turned toward the toilet closet. I had been sick last night. I'd been hunched over, puking for a hundred years, while Seryou stroked my back and held me over the toilet. I'd laid over there on the floor while he cut my shirt off one button at a time, struggling with the scissors in his wrapped hands.

Yuzuru-san, you're drunk.

"Oh, shit." I remembered now. The sweet strawberry drink that had sparkled on my tongue, the blaring karaoke music, Seryou's charming, off-key rendition of One OK Rock. The way the dazzling lights and his clean scent and touchable, dramatic hair had my senses in overdrive. I kept getting dizzier, giddier, until he'd looked at me with shock in those sharp black eyes and said how many of these have you had?

From there, I started feeling sick. By the time we'd gotten back to Grandfather's I was a barfing mess.

Ugh.

I stripped off my shirt and let it pool on the floor with the bedsheet, stepping into the shower. The hot water felt amazing, and I stood there for a while as it melted the headache inside my skull and revived my sluggish muscles. Shampoo and soap did wonders for my discomfort—or maybe that was the pain reliever kicking in. I was just happy to be feeling reasonably human again.

I was scrubbing away at my armpits when another memory hit.

Fuck me.

The scrubber splatted on the tile floor of the shower. I could suddenly feel Seryou's mouth on my throat, his soft gasps of breath, the tips of his fingers scraping at the neck of my shirt. I recalled his weight on top of me. He was so hard I could feel him even through the blankets.

So that's why I was naked this morning. Crap, had we really...? I twisted over my shoulder, which was stupid because it's not like I was going to see anything back there. I didn't feel the slightest bit different, though. I wasn't sore or anything. Was that even possible? I was pretty sure it wasn't.

Wait.

Don't tell me I'd done something to him instead...

Panic flooded my chest. Was that why I'd been sleeping alone? Had I hurt Seryou? I knew all too well what happened when people got drunk.

"Fuck," I moaned, slumping against the cold tile wall. "Oh, fuck." No, no! If I'd hurt him I could never forgive myself. I yanked on fistfuls of my hair, as if I could use it to drag the memory to the surface of my brain. I had to remember.

Why'd you stop?

This isn't right. Tomorrow when you're sober, we can do whatever you want. Just sleep for now.

The vise around my lungs loosened up. He was okay. We hadn't done anything. We were both all right, nothing had hap—

I pushed away from the wall, the shower water striking my chest like hot needles. Nothing happened.

Even though I'd flirted with him relentlessly. Even though I'd had my hands all over him, threw my underwear at him, flat out told him to fuck me. Even though his lips were so hungry on my skin, his breath harsh against my neck, his body aroused to the point that he was shaking when he climbed off of me. And there was no way he would have been able to do anything about it by himself.

That was why I'd slept alone last night.

Fucking hell.

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. I was such an asshole.

I shut off the water and grabbed a towel. As soon as I was dressed I had to go find him and apologize. The drinking had been an accident, but it was all the more reason I'd never touch the stuff again. Well, that and the raging morning headache, which thankfully was mostly gone now.

I hadn't brought a change of clothes in with me, so I pinched the damp towel around my waist and went back to the guest room.

"Oh!"

I'd nearly run into Seryou. He was setting some kind of tray on the dresser beside the bathroom door, and we both jumped in surprise at the other's unexpected appearance.

The tray rattled. I watched it tilt dramatically on the edge of the dresser. A coffee cup tumbled off, bouncing out of Seryou's bandaged hand as he tried to catch it. I grabbed the tray with both hands before the other dishes could follow. They clinked and slid around, but didn't fall.

"Ha! Got it!" I crowed. I eased the tray onto the dresser, where it would stay put.

Seryou had knelt to retrieve the cup on the carpet. When he didn't stand back up right away, I got worried. Had he been scalded when it fell?

That was when I remembered I was naked. Like, head-to-toe, nothing but birthday suit. In rescuing the tray I'd dropped the towel, which was currently wadded on the floor around my feet.

And Seryou wasn't looking for the errant coffee cup, he was eye-level with my crotch. Staring at my junk, right in his face. The tips of his ears had gone bright pink, and so had his cheeks and nose.

"Crap!" I clapped a hand over myself quickly. "Uh... oops." I was screwing up everything lately, wasn't I? As if I hadn't traumatized him enough last night.

Seryou didn't appear to be breathing. He didn't move for so long that I started to get nervous.

"Hey, um, if you can just hand me the towel—?"

He kissed my hand.

Here I was trying to corral my dick away from his face, and out of nowhere, he'd lunged forward and put his lips against my knuckles. Electricity shot through my core, tensing my stomach, pushing air out of my lungs.

It's not like he was giving my hand a cute little peck. His mouth was hot and firm, sucking the flesh of my knuckles, his tongue tracing the sensitive skin between my fingers. I swear to every fucking deity that's ever been, as far as my body was concerned, it was like my hand wasn't even there. A rush of blood, heat, and pressure slammed into my groin. I got lightheaded at the same time as I got hard.

I'm pretty sure I cursed.

Seryou's tongue swept one of my fingers all the way to the joint, where he paused to take the skin between his teeth. It didn't hurt, but I started getting tunnel vision. A heat wave shimmered between my ears. My erection was overflowing my palm trying to get to him, no matter what the rest of me might think about it.

"Seryou, what... What're you doing?"

He drew back, breathing from some deep, deep place inside his chest. "Wishing I could break the rest of the goddamn rules." His voice was at least an octave lower than I'd ever heard it.

I couldn't see all of his face, just the black crescents of his lashes as he closed his eyes. He was wearing a thin gray sweatshirt, probably the only thing he'd been able to get on by himself this morning, and it was heaving over his chest. "I... I'm sorry," he growled. He backed away a little more, which made my body lurch after him. "I shouldn't have done that. It's just that I'm a little... Right now, I'm..."

Every last square centimeter of my skin was radiating as if I had a full-body sunburn. He didn't have to say it, I knew damn well what I'd done to him last night. But guilt was only part of the reason I didn't want him to stop.

"What if I said it was okay?"

His eyes came up to meet mine, his soft, rosy lips parted in disbelief. I really wanted to feel them some more. And not just on my fingers.

Hey, it had been his idea in the first place, hadn't it?

He blinked, slowly, then winced and shook his head. "I can't. You're still—"

"I'm sober," I assured him. Completely, totally sober. Even if I hadn't been when I woke up, I sure as hell was now.

His eyes went to my hand. His brows dipped together in the middle, like he was afraid to hope too much.

"I want you to," I said earnestly. Then it occurred to me that the way to prove it was to let him see for himself.

Moving my hand was maybe one of the most embarrassing things I'd ever done, especially when my erection sprang free to point at his nose. My face was on fire. This felt even more vulnerable than showing him my scars. But he'd been okay with that, right?

Dang, you would have thought I'd just offered him a stick of his favorite candy. His hands came up to hold my hips, but he couldn't seem to take his eyes off my straining body. "It would really be all right?"

"Mm." Understatement. With him looking at me like that, I don't think I'd ever wanted something more.

Gently he shifted me a step sideways, so that my butt and lower back were pressed against the dresser. When he brought his face alongside my swollen cock, his breath was a seductive tickle.

"If you get scared," he said hoarsely, "or you want me to stop, just tell me."

"Mm."

And then he kissed me, just as purposefully as when my hand was in the way. His velvet tongue went right for the scar lining the side of my dick, and it made me go white-knuckled on the edge of the dresser. He drew his mouth slowly along the length of me, like I was the best thing he'd ever tasted, and I heard him groan softly. His thumbs began working little circles against my hipbones. Holy shit, how could anything feel that good?

Apparently I said it out loud. He looked up at me with a wicked smirk. "It's about to feel even better."

This time I know I cursed. Repeatedly.

His lips and tongue had surrounded the tip of me. Sweet holy fuck, he was liquid heaven. Softer and smoother than fingers could ever be. His tongue cupped the underside of my cock, guiding it into his mouth at different angles. I was bumping against the slick inner surfaces of his cheeks, tapping the roof of his mouth, ringed by the strength of his lips, all sensations I'd never felt in my life ever. I was pretty sure my brain was going to start leaking out of my ears. At first it was just a little of me that he was kissing like that, but he slid me deeper bit by bit until at some point I think I hit the back of his throat.

He made a little choking noise and adjusted me in his mouth, at which point I lost track of exactly what he was doing because an explosion of pleasure rocketed up my spine.

And then it just kept fucking going. Wave after wave of it. I started gasping. Actually, more like hyperventilating.

"Fucking fuck. Seryou... shit!"

His grip on my hips just tightened in response. I was glad he understood I wasn't complaining, because I don't know what I would have done if he stopped.

He'd always been a good kisser, but this was like... I don't even know. There were gongs going off against my eardrums and white flashes streaking my vision. I gripped the edge of the dresser for dear life as he kept doing whatever it was he was doing down there that felt so incredible. I think he was sucking on me.

As soon as that notion crossed my mind, a surge of arousal pulsed through my insides. I came, right into his mouth.

Shit, I hadn't even thought to warn him until after I heard him grunt. It would have been embarrassing, except that the sound was more pleased than shocked. He kept moving on me a few more seconds, like he wanted to make sure I was done, and then let me slip wetly from his lips. He took a napkin from the tray on the dresser, pressing it to his mouth. I really hoped he was spitting that stuff out, because ew.

I dropped onto my knees in front of him, dizzy with release and probably a lack of blood to the brain, too. I pulled him into my arms and laid my head on his shoulder, panting.

He hugged me back, pressed kisses to my neck, waited for my ragged breathing to slow down. "Thank you," he said softly.

I had to laugh, in spite of my severe shortage of oxygen. "Shouldn't I be the one saying that?"

The smile was audible in his voice. "I mean, for trusting me."

My heart clenched up. Didn't he just keep proving that I had every reason in the world to trust him? I grabbed his face in my hands. His eyes went wide as I closed in on him.

"Wait—"

I kissed him, hard. He hummed anxiously, keeping his lips tight when I tried to get them to open up. At first I was confused, until a faint, bitter taste spread onto my tongue. I pulled back, licking my lips with a frown.

Seryou's complexion was flushed, and he eyed the bathroom door over my shoulder. "I should go rinse," he said, but I kept him from getting up. When he gave me a questioning look, I leaned in and took his mouth again, slowly enough that he'd know what I was doing it for.

He still hesitated, but I kept prodding his lips until he let me inside. Then I swept my tongue all around his, trying to analyze that flavor. It was light and salty. Kind of like licking sweaty skin.

I broke the kiss, still working on an opinion. "Huh. It doesn't taste very good, does it?"

He got to his feet. "Like I said, I'm just gonna..."

I caught his wrist before he could leave, and stood up too. I guess the movement reminded him I was naked, because his dark eyes drifted feverishly down my body. I tugged his arm around my waist and hooked my other hand behind his neck. "It doesn't exactly taste bad, either."

He exhaled, his fingertips gliding down my back. Stepping closer, I pressed the full length of my body against him. He had track pants on again, and they were thin enough that I could feel his arousal even more emphatically than last night. He was a fucking saint. He hadn't made me wait, even though he'd been waiting for me for so damn long.

I slid a hand down to his butt and pulled him tighter against me. He whimpered into my shoulder, his hips jerking forward. "Yuzuru-san..."

Mind made up, I wound my fingers into his hair and lifted his head up so we could get back to kissing. He moaned a little as I used my grip in his hair, my tongue in his mouth, my hand on his butt to back him up across the room.

When the back of his legs struck the bed, I broke the kiss just long enough to seize the hem of his sweatshirt and yank it up and over his head. I don't know where it ended up because as soon as it was off I shoved Seryou backward, tumbling onto the bed over him, my hands running wild over the satin of his arms and chest.

He said my name again in the sweetest, most gut wrenching tone imaginable. He needed me like crazy, even if he wasn't saying so. It was obvious in the way his body writhed under me and his skin flashed hot beneath my fingers. I kissed his ear, his jaw. "I'm gonna do that to you now."

His eyelashes lowered and raised again, like he was squinting through a fog to try and understand what I was saying. "Eh?"

"I want to try it. You said when I was sober we could do anything, right?"

The haze had cleared enough that his brows went up. "Y—you remember that?"

"I remember all of it."

To my confusion, he turned his face away a little. "And you're not mad? That I didn't... Even though you asked me to. I just couldn't. Not like that."

"Of course I'm not mad." What a dumb question. I pinched his chin and tilted it so he'd have to look at me again. "Dummy, you're supposed to be mad at me. I'm the one who left you all turned on, and passed out instead of taking responsibility."

"Oh, but—"

"And I wouldn't have wanted it to be like that either. Our first time, I mean." I ran fingertips over his nipple, lightly, because I knew how much he liked it. His whole body trembled. His eyes met mine with astonishment, glazed with a desperation that fired up every possessive neuron in my animal brain. I was going to be everything he needed someday. For sure.

"I'm not ready yet," I said, because it was only fair to be clear about that. "But I don't want to be a drunk mess when it happens. I want to really be there with you. Even if it's scary." I dropped my lips onto his nose, then moved down to his mouth.

He let me in without hesitation this time, and we crushed our tongues together. He started moaning, low and deep in his throat, and I rocked against him so he'd know that relief was coming soon. My hand traveled down his chest, his ribs, ducking under the stretchy waistband of his track pants. Crap, he had underwear on too. I huffed, because there shouldn't be so many layers between us. I'd been naked this whole time, and now it was his turn.

It took some wrestling to effectively get hold of both the pants and the underwear and get them down his hips. Seriously, why did he always have to wear such tight clothes? But the reward was more than worth it, because once he was as bare as me it was like rubbing against warm, human silk. It felt so nice that I was getting kind of hard again.

I kissed my way down his chest, lingering at his nipple because of the way it made his hips bump under me. I would have liked to stay there a while, but I wasn't going to let him keep waiting. He already deserved at least a dozen orgasms for putting up with me as long as he had. So I kept moving downward, caressing his stomach with my lips. Past his belly button. Across to the ridge of his hipbone. Gliding my tongue into the depression between the hard bone and the softness of his lower belly, until I was met with coarse hair. He gasped as I took him into my hand and looked him over.

He really was beautiful. A delicate pink color all the way down, the head of him glossy and so smooth he was almost translucent at the surface. I'd never really examined a dick other than my own, so it was interesting to see how different he was. Not just in color, but his shape was different too. Longer proportions, kind of streamlined like the nose of a bullet train. Now that I was this close I was sure there was no way I'd fit all of him in my mouth at once. I looked up, suddenly self-conscious.

"I'm probably not gonna be very good at this," I said.

He had his head tipped back on the pillow, his bottom lip between his teeth. "God, I don't care."

Well, okay then.

I started off by kissing the very tip of him. Just touching my lips to the moisture seeping there, to see what it was like. His thigh muscles convulsed against my chest. I licked my lips, curious, but the substance didn't really have much flavor. I did it again, softer this time, letting my mouth sort of melt onto the glassy skin. This time his thighs went rock hard and he hissed.

I brushed him with my tongue, and holy hell was it awesome. He was tantalizingly smooth, firm and springy all at once, tangy in the way that only living flesh could be. I licked the head of him all over, exploring the shapes and curves.  My favorite spot was the underside, where the gentle ridges made a sort of V shape that fit my tongue. I held him in my mouth and stroked him there, listening to his strangled cries of pleasure.

We'd ended up in a funny diagonal position on the bed, and because I was halfway down his body one of my legs was dangling off the edge. I pulled my knees under me for more stability, and wrangled his legs up by my ears, spreading them apart. He complied with everything I wanted, let me pose him until I got us both situated more comfortably. There, that was better. Now I could run one hand up and down the back of his thigh, from behind his knee all the way down to his buttcheek and up again. The skin there was incredibly soft. My other hand was occupied with holding his cock to my lips so I could learn it the way I wanted to.

It took a little experimentation to figure out how I could get as much of him into my mouth as possible without accidentally scraping him with my teeth or gagging. It was pretty damn fun, though, especially with the sounds he was making and the way I could feel him pulsing on my tongue. He liked the roof of my mouth, and he liked when I stroked him with my fingers at the same time. He really liked it when I enlisted my other hand to manipulate his balls a bit... and that felt pretty cool, by the way, all that loose skin slipping around two hard knots underneath. I got all the best angles and movements worked out, but wanted him to have more.

So I tried the sucking thing.

"Ah, fuck," he cried, his back arching so that his hips sank down into the mattress. "Oh my god, Yuzu— Oh god, yes."

Hah. Maybe I wouldn't turn out half bad at this after all.

I could have happily kept it up for hours. His kindness, his tenderness, his sweet, soft skin and pretty lips, his sexy groans and perfect pink cock, they were all mine. He'd given them to me, even though he could have had a hundred people who wouldn't be making him wait for this kind of stuff. I still didn't know why he'd picked me.

But he was mine, and I was going to worship him until the day I died.

He was saying something, breathlessly, but my love-fogged brain didn't register it. I was utterly absorbed in the way he filled my mouth, how his narrow hips were so easy to hold on to, how he tasted like fragile metal on my tongue. I snapped out of it, though, when I started choking. Warm fluid had burst against the back of my throat.  My breathing got confused for a second as the swallowing instinct took over.

I had to take him out of my mouth, spluttering. It wasn't terribly unpleasant, except that I hadn't really been expecting it and there was so much it kind of overflowed my lips a little.

"Oh," Seryou said, sounding like he'd just finished running a hundred laps in gym class. "Oh, god, I'm sorry. Are you okay?" He was half sitting up, reaching for me, so I pushed him back down onto the pillow and wriggled up alongside him. He should be relaxing, not worrying about me.

But he was wheezing and cringing all at once. "Use this," he said, holding a corner of the bedsheet to my mouth. "Spit it out."

Most of it was already gone, either swallowed or drooling down my chin, but he held the sheet so insistently that I obeyed. Then I pushed his hands away. "I'm good," I said.

Forehead still scrunched, he tried to wipe my face again. I grabbed his wrists and lunged over him, trapping his bandaged hands above his head. His chest inflated beneath me.

"I said I'm good," I insisted, my nose hovering right over his. "You rest."

He didn't struggle, but his eyes searched my face so guiltily I bent to kiss him. I laid my whole body on his so my weight would pin him down. He sighed against my lips, and I waited until I felt him loosen up. Then I released his wrists and rolled to his side, tucking my head against his chest, drawing one of my legs up and over his. He kissed my forehead, pulling me close.

"I'm fucking happy right now," I said, and he chuckled.

"Me too." His arm moved so that he could pet my hair. "This was... it was okay with you?"

"Mm." I let my fingers wander his chest to his nipple, and toyed with him there. His belly button jerked toward his spine, and I grinned. "Maybe we could do it some more?"

"Now?"

"Yeah."

He put his lips to my forehead again. "God, yes, we can do it as much as you want. But, uh... I need a minute or two first, okay?"

"Okay." A blissful contentment was swirling all inside me. I snuggled into him, and was actually on the verge of falling asleep when a phone started ringing.

"I think it's yours," Seryou said, nodding at the nightstand behind me.

Grumbling, I shuffled away from his warmth in order to pick up the stupid thing. Who the hell had the nerve to—

"Shit, it's Sensei!"

"Murata-san?" Seryou asked. I felt him move up behind me, his hand on my waist so he could peer over my shoulder.

"Mm. Should I answer it?"

"I told her at breakfast that you weren't feeling well. She said she'd call with your assignments."

I eyed the green accept call icon reluctantly. "So I guess I should—ohh!" He was kissing my neck.

"It's just homework. Let her leave a message."

I turned over my shoulder with a snicker. "You're gonna let me be that irresponsible?" And then I had to gasp, because his naked body molded against my backside, and damn... he was hard again already? He trailed soft kisses onto my shoulder blade, then down my upper arm.

"I thought you wanted to be responsible for something else."

I tossed the still-ringing phone back onto the nightstand and rolled into his arms.