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Hitoya couldn’t keep his eyes off the kid.Late one lonely Saturday night, he caught a glimpse of a beautiful boy from across the bar—a vision in techwear striking out of the blue. He stood out among the crowd of men like sunlight glittering across the water’s surface, and he looked just as pretty.He was young, too. So very young. So very dangerous.Hitoya knew better; he knew to stay away. But it couldn’t hurt to admire the view a little longer. With half of his face concealed behind his glass of whiskey, his hair casually styled and a simple black leather jacket on, he was afforded some anonymity. He watched the boy flit around the bar, an easy smile on his gorgeous face, never lingering in one place for long, before disappearing beyond the corner of Hitoya’s eye.After waiting a little while longer, and growing antsier with each passing minute, Hitoya gave up on catching sight of him again. The prettiest boys attracted the most attention; surely some lucky bastard had gotten to this one first. Hitoya figured it was time to call it a night. He’d go home unsatisfied but unsullied. But before he could down the rest of his drink, someone swiped his shoulder—someone leaning on the bar right beside him.“Hey, excuse me,” called a light, lovely voice.Hitoya nearly sighed with relief. He turned, and he was finally face to face with tonight’s object of fascination: the very boy he’d been watching from afar. Only he had found Hitoya first.“Are you waiting for someone?” asked the boy.“No one in particular,” said Hitoya, who still couldn’t take his eyes off him. “Why don’t you join me?”The boy grinned. He looked even better up close. “I’d love to. Can I buy you another round?”“I’m all set here, but looks like you could use one yourself. Tell him what you want—it’s on me.”Cash in hand, Hitoya signaled the bartender. He’d won the man’s favor—an invaluable asset when buying drinks for potential partners—thanks to his obsessive interest in Islay.“Thank you, kind sir,” said the boy. Their hands brushed for a moment, a faint smirk playing on his lips. It was gone when he turned to the bartender, nodding politely, and asked what cocktails he recommended.Yep, Hitoya was fucked.He never meant to end up in this situation again. He hadn’t gone out tonight with the intention of finding someone so fresh-faced, so vibrant, so damn cute. No, he’d gone out to find a distraction from this very sort; he didn’t need another one added to his roster.Now in his mid-thirties, Hitoya increasingly found himself the favorite target of a certain demographic: younger men. Those bright-eyed, bushy-tailed boys in their very (very) early twenties looking for an older lover with a wealth of experience and a firm hand. Hitoya had become the proverbial daddy—a misnomer, he’d argue, feeling like little more than an overgrown teenager himself most days. And while he found the attention flattering and appreciated having his age work in his favor, the risks ultimately outweighed the rewards. Hitoya didn’t want the great and terrible responsibility of nurturing these tender young hearts. So he mostly rebuffed them.But only mostly. The exceptions to his rule all fit a very incriminating pattern. It was enough to make Hitoya feel guilty, but somehow not guilty enough to make him stop.This boy was tall and thin, with an artfully cut mop of shaggy black hair and long bangs that skimmed his finely-crafted features. He had four piercings dotting his ears and the kind of smile that lit up a room.His name had two syllables, too; it rolled off Hitoya’s tongue easily enough.“It’s a pleasure, Hito—”“‘scuse me,” said the man seated to Hitoya’s left, bobbing his head apologetically. He was trying to make his exit, and the boy blocked his path.With a freshly made cocktail in one hand and the other gripping Hitoya’s shoulder for support, the boy sidestepped the man by cramming himself as close as possible to Hitoya.“Sorry,” he said to Hitoya without a hint of regret on his smiling face, and claimed the now-vacant seat. “I didn’t realize it was gonna be so crowded.”“It’s Saturday. It’s always crowded.”“Are you a regular or something?”“I’m not here every weekend, no,” said Hitoya, “but sometimes I like a little company when I drink.”“Once in a blue moon kinda thing, huh?”“Something like that.” Hitoya took another sip of his whiskey. “I haven’t seen you around before. This isn’t your usual spot, is it?”The boy shook his head. “I don’t really go to bars to meet men. It’s so much faster online—most of the time, anyway—but I needed a break. I wasn’t finding what I was looking for there. And voilà! Here you are.”“How’d you know where to find me?”“Process of elimination. You’re not the kind of guy who uses apps, are you?”“Are you suggesting I’m old and out of touch?” Hitoya asked with an arched brow.The boy’s sweet, ringing laugh was music to Hitoya’s ears.“Hey, I’d never say that!” he insisted. “Besides, the apps are crawling with middle-aged men. You know how many closet cases—?” He pursed his lips, dropping that tangent. “I mean, it’s rare to find legitimately cool, interesting guys like you on there.”“Well, you’re in luck, kid.” Hitoya flashed him a shit-eating grin. “If there’s one thing I hate more than being called middle-aged, it’s dating apps.”“I wasn’t calling you middle-aged—”“I’m teasing,” he said. “Sorry. Couldn't help myself.”“Okay, lemme—hah—lemme start over. You’ve got me tongue-tied over here.” The boy swept his hair out of his face. “You’re a guy who’s genuinely too cool for banal as prosaic as the apps. You’re like, the definition of cool. You’re sophisticated.”Hitoya chucked. “Now you’re kissing up to me?”“It’s a simple observation!”“Eh, I’m nothing special,” he said with a shrug. “I’d rather go out for the night. Don’t wanna waste my time going back and forth on some goddamn app with nothing to show for it.”(Most of all, he hated setting up those stupid profiles, a bullshit little effigy cobbled together with a few numbers (35, 178, 68), a few choice words (single, toned, vers) and a shirtless selfie cropped just below his jaw. Fuck the digital meat market. If Hitoya was to whore himself, it would be as god intended: in the flesh, where every conversation was fleeting and there was no such thing as incriminating screenshots.)The boy smiled, undeterred by his prickliness. “You’re kinda old-school. I like that. I knew I made the right choice coming here tonight.”Silently cursing himself, Hitoya lit a cigarette in a pathetic attempt to calm his racing pulse. He was already kind of enamored with this boy. He couldn’t win a fight against chemistry; he was only human, after all. And as far as distractions went, he could do a hell of a lot worse. Tonight’s was gutsy, effortlessly charming, and extremely easy on the eyes.The boy held out his hand. His fingers, as long and slender as the rest of him, were adorned with intricately carved silver rings.“Mind if I have a few puffs? I don’t know what it is, but I alway get the urge when I’m drinking.”“Exactly how old are you?” Hitoya had to ask. If he had to guess: “Twenty?”“Yessir. Wouldn’t be able to get in here if I wasn’t.” The boy leaned in, whispering, “I know from experience.”Very cute. “Just making sure. You look a little younger.”He shrugged. “I get that a lot. But I’m old enough for this—that I can promise.”Fifteen years apart, for those counting. Better than, say, seventeen years, though not by much.Hitoya watched his cigarette slide between the boy’s lips. He had nice lips: smooth and plump, like he used lip balm regularly. That was something these young guys had over the men of Hitoya’s generation.“So what are you drinking, anyway? Is that whiskey?”Hitoya nodded. “Lagavulin sixteen-year-old single malt. It’s an Islay whiskey, the best kind of Scotch in my opinion—and I know I’m right. It’s distilled on the island of Islay off the coast of Scotland, hence the name.”“Imported Scotch? In this economy? Someone has expensive taste.”“Surely you mean sophisticated.”“That too.” After passing back the cigarette, the boy said, “Sorry if I’m pushing my luck here, but can I try a little? I’m really curious. Never had anything top-shelf before.”Hitoya swirled his glass, beckoning him. “You think you’re up for it?”“Of course I am.”“Let’s see how you like it.” Hitoya set it down in front of him. “Slowly. It’s not a shot. Take your time enjoying it.”Holding Hitoya’s gaze, the boy brought the glass to his lips and paused, as if making sure Hitoya was enjoying the view.“That’s it,” said Hitoya. “Just like that.”The boy took a sip and immediately pulled a face, looking like he was trying very hard not to spit it back out. “Oh… that’s a lot.” He sucked his teeth. “It tastes like a campfire.”“It’s an acquired taste,” Hitoya laughed—boys in bars trying to act grown up and floundering instead were always so precious. “Let this be a teaching moment.”“I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll stick with the fruit cocktails for now.” The boy slid over his colorful drink—which was, to Hitoya’s palate, a supremely unappetizing offer—and raised his eyebrows. “You wanna try mine?”“Thanks, but I’ll pass. I know what I like.”The boy drew closer—close enough now that Hitoya could pick out the notes of his cologne. Lavender, vanilla, cinnamon.“Am I what you like?” he asked.Unfortunately, thought Hitoya. His pointed silence was just the answer the boy was looking for.“So give me a try,” said the boy. His finger traced light circles against the back of Hitoya’s hand. “I’m free tonight.”Hitoya met the boy’s gaze. “You’re cute, kid, but you know as well as I do that I’m too old for you.”“Not this lecture again,” he groaned, scowling something awful. “I know you mean well, and it’s nice that you’re looking out for me and all, but I’m so fucking tired of hearing it. I know what I’m doing—I’ve done it so many times before!”Gone was the guise of politeness. Hitoya could feel the boy’s frustration, smoldering, impassioned and left unchecked. And more than a little bratty, which boded well for tonight.“At least tell me how old you are,” the boy said petulantly.“Thirty-five.”“That’s it?” he scoffed. “I’ve had older.”“Then consider my perspective,” said Hitoya. “I don’t exactly make it a habit to pick up boys your age. Why should you be the exception?”The boy scrunched up his face. “Because I’m way cuter than all of the other washed-up twinks here.”Hitoya cracked a smile. That he was.“I like you a lot. I don’t see a reason to feel guilty when I’m throwing myself at you,” he continued. “Frankly, it’d be weirder if you weren’t into me.”“But like you said, you’re the cutest one in this bar. You could have your pick of any guy here. So why does it have to be me?”“Because none of them come close to you,” said the boy. “I only go for sexy older men who are cool and sophisticated and infuriatingly fucking handsome. Any of that ring a bell?”Hitoya laughed through his nose. “Stop, you’re making me blush.”The boy nudged Hitoya’s leg. “Sounds like I’m finally getting somewhere. Tell me—am I close?”“You tell me,” said Hitoya. “You’re the one calling the shots here.”The boy’s face contorted again, torn between frustration and delight. He was almost there. “I know you’re into me. You would’ve told me to fuck off by now if you weren’t interested. You don’t waste time on anything boring.”With his hand gripping the edge of Hitoya’s seat, the boy spoke against the shell of Hitoya’s ear, voice lower but no less melodic, breath warm and enticing like a devil on his shoulder.“And I like a challenge, I do. I like proving myself. But unfortunately, I’m kinda on a deadline here and time’s almost up.” The boy made a point of surveying the crowd of men, young and old alike, waiting their turn. “I’ll get what I came for one way or another. So, Hitoya, shall I find someone else to fuck me tonight?”Hitoya knew an ultimatum when he heard one. A stronger man would have resisted. But he was weak, so weak, and he never had a chance from the moment he laid eyes on the boy.May god have mercy on his soul.Slowly, with a hard-won sense of confidence, he laid his hand on the boy’s thigh. His fingers slid into the crevice behind his bent knee, sandwiched between his calf and his inner thigh. For the first time tonight, the boy looked truly flustered, eyes widening as Hitoya gave him a firm squeeze.“You’re right. I am interested in you.” It was now Hitoya’s turn to murmur in his ear, a confession meant only for the two of them. “I just can’t help myself.”He heard a shaky yet no less triumphant huff from the boy, and he was suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss him right then and there.“But before we go any further, promise me that you’re ready for me.” Hitoya wet his lips. “I need to hear it from you. It’s non-negotiable.”“I’ve never been more ready. I’m so fucking ready.” The boy grinned. He was the very picture of boundless, youthful enthusiasm, the kind that made Hitoya’s unhappy heart sing.“Just one more thing,” Hitoya said. “As you well know, I paid good money for this drink. Lemme finish enjoying it first. Then I’m all yours.”He wasn’t stalling—not entirely, anyway. He was giving the boy time to reconsider if he was in over his head.“Deal,” the boy said, pouting. But he wasted no time staking his claim. His hand glided down Hitoya’s back, coming to rest in the gap between his leather jacket and the waistband of his jeans. With each passing minute, he grew bolder, fingering the hem of Hitoya’s t-shirt until he struck the soft skin of his lower back.It was all so charmingly presumptuous of him.And it worked. Hitoya didn’t savor those last few precious sips; he unceremoniously emptied his glass in one go. Fuck it. He was ready.The boy grabbed him by the wrist and whisked them away from the bar. “There’s something I wanna show you,” he called. He cut a path through the dance floor with Hitoya in tow.In a dark corner of the club, he seized the front of Hitoya’s jacket, trapping himself in the narrow space between Hitoya’s body and the back wall. The strobe lights flickered across the boy’s flushed face. His hair was lustrous like black satin; beneath the dark veil of his bangs, his eyes glittered.“I want you,” he declared. “God, I want you so fucking bad. I knew as soon as I saw you across the bar—I’ve been waiting for someone like you. Been dreaming of you. Your face, your body, your voice. How you smell like cigarettes and leather. Everything about you drives me insane.”He pulled Hitoya against him. He was hard.“Tell me you want this too and I’m yours tonight.”Hitoya’s mouth was dry. His heart was pounding. He felt the boy’s breath on his face. He swallowed.“I want you,” he said softly.“Then what are you waiting for?”The people around them were too busy dancing and rutting against each other; they’d pay no mind to two more men kissing. Hitoya couldn’t play the part of the responsible adult anymore. Being caught up in the rush felt too good to resist.It was sloppy from the start. They crashed into each other and held on tight. There was no gap between them anymore.The boy’s mouth tasted like vodka and whatever else was in that cocktail of his. Hitoya licked inside, his tongue smearing against the boy’s. He was starting to break a sweat in his leather jacket. He wondered if the boy could feel him burning up—his hands roamed beneath Hitoya’s shirt, mapping his upper body.As they kissed, Hitoya offered his thigh to the boy, allowing him to grind down against it. A small mercy for such a horny thing. The boy’s groan was muffled by his mouth, hands on Hitoya’s hips to keep him in place, needing more friction and not caring who might see him.And as for Hitoya—he liked ‘em all riled up, sheer desperation overriding any sense of decorum. The boy made such a pretty picture, too, making Hitoya, in turn, the envy of all who dared watch. Did they look like they belonged together? Or were they just wrong enough in all the right ways? Either worked for Hitoya; he felt a familiar twinge.Then the boy cupped Hitoya through his pants—a step too far. Hitoya pulled away, forcing some distance between them again. The boy whined as their wet mouths broke apart.“Don’t,” muttered Hitoya, “not here.”The boy licked his swollen lips. “Take me home.”Hitoya ran some split-second mental calculations: the amount of time they’d spend together (probably not much); the likelihood of running into each other again (probably not high); how much he’d regret this tomorrow (probably a lot); how long he’d gone without fucking someone (definitely too long); how good he already felt (incredibly); just how cute his partner was (impossibly).His head was getting fuzzier by the second, every neuron soaked with whiskey and the promise of sex. Through great, noble effort, he managed to give a final warning: “This is—we are—just for tonight.”“I know,” the boy said. “Casual. Nothing more.”“Let’s skip the hotel. My apartment isn't too far.”After readjusting themselves, they beat a quick retreat from the bar. They walked side by side down the street, arms bumping together as they hustled along. Naturally, the boy had a long stride; he had deliciously long legs.“What do you do? Can I ask that? Because you’ve gotta be loaded to live around here.”Hands in his pocket, Hitoya cleared his throat. “I’m a lawyer.”“For real? That explains… a lot, actually.”“The irony isn’t lost on me.”“I’m in uni,” the boy continued. “I’m studying psychology.”“Yeah? That's great. We could always use more of that. You like it?”“Yeah, it’s always something I’ve been interested in. And I have a really great professor this year. I’m really into him.”Hitoya nodded. “That can make all the difference.”“Am I going too fast?” the boy suddenly asked. They were practically power walking; they were both impatient.“Not in the slightest.”They arrived at Hitoya’s building not long after. The boy kissed him as soon as the elevator doors closed around them.“I can’t wait any longer,” he offered as his excuse.Ignoring the security camera tucked away in the upper recesses of the walls, Hitoya pulled him into another kiss. He dared to swipe his tongue inside the boy’s mouth until the very last second, shoving him away again when the elevator slowed to a stop.And lo and behold: Hitoya’s apartment, their den of sin for one night only.“Your place is so nice,” the boy gasped, peeking his head into the living room.But no time for a tour. It was straight shot to the bedroom. Hitoya had put on a fresh set of sheets for tonight; never mind that he’d need to change them again in the morning.They undressed, easily shedding their shirts and pants; no pretenses here. It was like a game of strip poker, revealing each other with each turn.They fell back onto Hitoya’s bed, entwined. Only their underwear remained now. The boy had such a lovely body, slender and milky pale, his skin warm and irresistibly smooth under Hitoya’s touch.“What can I do for you?” Hitoya asked the boy beneath him. He relished the heat of their bodies, bare chests pressed together.“Kiss my neck,” said the boy. He stretched his head back invitingly, baring his throat and waiting. “I’m really sensitive.”Hitoya brushed his lips along the boy’s skinny neck, teasing at the soft skin before clamping his mouth down and sucked relentlessly, leaving his mark. The boy whimpered and writhed helplessly, trapped exactly where he wanted to be. Hitoya dragged his palm along the boy’s bare chest, thumb circling his nipple, seeing it harden for him. He felt the boy’s legs part, trying to find some much-needed friction.“Yes,” groaned the boy, fingers combing through Hitoya’s loose waves of hair. “Fuck me, daddy.”Ah, there it was. The word on every twenty-something twink’s lips when they finally sunk their claws into Hitoya. It was clichéd at this point, and it was just another reason to stay away from younger men. He usually didn’t get much out of hearing it.Maybe it depended on who was saying it.“Uh, is it cool if I call you that?” the boy asked, sounding concerned at the lack of response.“Just for tonight.”Hitoya turned his attention to the unmarked side of the boy’s neck. He decided to indulge him. He could lean into the whole daddy thing once in a while. It wasn’t exactly a hard role to play.One hand went lower, skimming along the boy’s narrow waist and his flat, fluttering stomach, caressing the hair beneath his navel. Lower still, teasing, palming, savoring how hard he was already.The boy dug his fingers into Hitoya’s hair and pulled him up for a sloppy, desperate kiss on the mouth. Good. Very good. His needy reactions, his body’s wordless tells—that’s what really got Hitoya going, all flooded with warm blood.The boy looked feverish, flushed from his ears to his bare chest, his eyes glazed over and lips parted in a breathless little grin. He couldn’t contain his irrepressible, positively infectious excitement about being here with Hitoya.Hitoya traced his thumb along the boy’s bottom lip. “You’re pretty damn cute like this.”“Oh?” The boy practically batted his lashes. “Just when I’m like this?”“Hah, you already know you’re gorgeous, kid.” Hitoya tilted the boy’s chin and stole another kiss. “False modesty doesn’t suit someone as pretty as you.”“So you do like pretty boys,” he murmured.Was he really that predictable?Hitoya slid his other hand into the boy’s boxer briefs, squeezing his stiff cock.The boy moaned into Hitoya’s mouth, hips bucking at his touch. For a moment, all he could do was luxuriate in the pleasure, blissfully soaking up Hitoya’s attention. He was clumsy in his eagerness to tug Hitoya’s underwear down his hips, heatedly feeling him up—and then looked down, startled.“It’s fucking massive,” the boy yelped.Hitoya’s lip curled. He was no stranger to being fawned over, sure, but the reaction wasn’t usually this priceless.And the boy went on. “I knew you’d be hung, but holy shit.”“We can stop here if it’s too much for you.”“No!” the boy said immediately. “Not at all, no. Don’t even joke like that.”Hitoya worked the boy’s tight hole open with his lubed fingers, easing in and out as they kissed lazily, stretching wider and deeper with each slow stroke. The boy fondled himself as he watched Hitoya prepare him, biting his lip with anticipation.“I need it,” he said throatily.Hitoya chuckled. “I’m not done yet.”“But I need it,” the boy huffed, "now.”“And you’ll get it.” Hitoya couldn’t hide the edge of irritation in his voice. “Wait until I’m inside—you can beg all you want then.”“So hurry up and fuck me already,” he shot back.“Don’t be a brat. You don’t want this to hurt, do you?” Hitoya caught the boy’s chin with his free hand, forcing eye contact. “Because I don’t want it to hurt. I want my boy to feel good.”“Daddy knows best,” came the boy’s airy reply. Then his eyes widened, gasping as Hitoya plunged another finger inside him.“Three fingers in and you’re still so tight,” Hitoya chided, voice like velvet. “You sure you’ll be able to take it?”“F-fuck,” the boy laughed breathlessly. “What makes you, ah, think I can’t?”Right answer. Hitoya kissed him again, sucking on the boy’s tongue, drinking in his hiccups of pleasure. His fingers slid in easier each time, until he was met with no resistance.“Now you feel ready,” Hitoya said.“I’m ready. Been waiting all night for this.” The boy settled on hands and knees, watching coyly over his shoulder as Hitoya rolled on a condom.Hitoya paused, cock in hand, teasing the boy’s gaping hole. “Trust me,” he murmured, “I’ll take good care of you.”As soon as he fit the head of his cock inside, the boy moaned softly. He entered the boy slowly, tenderly, almost lovingly.The boy’s head dropped between his arms, too overwhelmed to stay upright anymore as he took Hitoya inch by inch.“You’re so big,” he spat.Hitoya stopped again to let the boy catch his breath. Keeping his touch light, he rubbed soothing circles on his hips.“You okay?”“Y-yeah, I’m good. You don’t have to be so gentle with me.”“There’s no rush.” Hitoya reached around and tugged at the boy's cock, nice and slow. “I wanna take my time enjoying you.”The boy moved with Hitoya’s hand, hips rolling forward and backward. Little coos of pleasure escaped him as he fucked himself on Hitoya’s cock. He was melting into a puddle, dripping onto Hitoya’s greedy fingers.“I-I need it—fuck me now. Fuck me.”And Hitoya fucked him, starting with a steady, measured pace. The boy was lovely on his knees, back arched, arms buckled. He wasn’t as mouthy with his face pressed into the mattress; he was pliant now, satisfied with Hitoya’s cock deep in his ass. The perfect angel, a dizzying contrast to the devilish boy who picked him up at the bar.“Good boy,” Hitoya crooned, earning a whimper in return. “You’re taking me so well.”“Daddy feels so good,” the boy whined breathlessly.“Who taught you to be such a good boy?”The boy made a strangled noise. “N-no one. ‘s just me.”Hitoya pinned him with his body weight, his flushed chest sticking to the boy’s naked back.“I can teach you so much more,” he purred in the boy’s ear. “Everything I know. Think you can be a good student?”The boy nearly collapsed, legs trembling as he clumsily rocked back against Hitoya. He was absolutely eating this up. “Please teach me, daddy, please,” he begged, voice hitching.Loath as he was to admit it, this is what Hitoya loved most of all: someone so eager, so desperate, so young and sweet in his care and in his bed. He loved being someone to depend on. He loved feeling his heart grow as he focused on tending to someone’s every need. It was a perverse stroke of irony that he was at his best like this—not the wrathful Hitoya or the avaricious Hitoya or the emotionally unbalanced Hitoya, but a soft-hearted, generous, nurturing Hitoya. It felt like the most natural thing in the world now; an inevitability.He kissed a hot trail down the boy’s neck. “Turn around. Lie back, pretty boy. Let daddy do all the work.”The boy’s lanky body was flexible as Hitoya folded him in half, his long legs bent against his chest, heels hooked over Hitoya’s shoulders. Face to face, they studied each other for a moment. The boy’s tousled hair hung over one eye; his other eye clouded by a faraway look.“I want you,” he breathed.Hitoya rumbled the boy’s name, caressing his cheek before thrusting inside him again. Now he could be vigorous, gripping the boy’s hips to hold him in place.The boy whimpered as Hitoya pounded into him, every slam of his hips forcing out needy little noises.“Daddy—yes—god, a-ah—!”Hitoya fucked him stupid. The boy was so pitiful, so adorable like this, falling to pieces and knowing he was safe in Hitoya’s care. Hitoya kissed him hungrily on his wet, open mouth.“Please, daddy, please,” he babbled, clinging to Hitoya’s arms. “I wanna…!”Hitoya’s wretched, rotten animal instinct roared to life and took hold of him, just for tonight.“Be a good boy. Say my name and I’ll make you come.”The boy whined, eyes rolling back as he shuddered with pleasure. “Hitoya!”His keening voice wasn’t nearly high and sweet enough. His hair was nowhere near as long. His pretty face couldn’t compare. But it didn’t matter right now. If Hitoya closed his eyes, he could imagine all of that underneath him instead.Hitoya—“Yes,” he growled. He allowed himself to get lost in fantasy, substituting this boy’s body with another. He thrust deeper, driven by the only thing on his mind.He roughly pumped the boy’s cock—would he feel like this, so hot and hard for Hitoya? Would his sweet voice stretch itself ragged and threadbare with pleasure? Would he watch Hitoya fuck him, or would he be too overwhelmed to even open his eyes? Would he cry from sheer ecstasy, sobbing Hitoya’s name as he unspooled in his arms?Hitoya didn’t know, and he knew he shouldn’t know, but it was all he could think about every single time he got off. He always ended up here.A sigh escaped him. It felt good. He felt so good, grinding into this boy, snug and tight, the closest he could get to the real thing. Eyes closed and dreaming. Just for tonight, he was free to indulge his deepest, darkest desire. This was how it should be; this was what he deserved, his reward for pouring all that time and energy and love into the most beautiful boy of them all.“Please, Hitoya.” Begging, clawing at his back. He was close.His rhythm fell apart as he imagined long, dark hair strewn across his bed, black-lacquered fingers gripping his sheets, mascara running down the face of someone too far gone to feel any semblance of shyness. Someone all for Hitoya—only for Hitoya.Hitoya. Hitoya. Hi—“—toya!”And the boy moaned deliriously as he came, head thrown back, spilling all over himself.Hitoya gritted his teeth. He didn’t say his name; he didn’t say anyone’s name. He only groaned as he emptied himself into the condom, his eyes squeezed shut.“Good boy,” Hitoya panted. Before he could so much as pull out, the boy held him flush against his sticky stomach. They clung together, eyes closed, still joined together. “That’s my good boy…”
Another round of orgasms later and Hitoya sat in bed smoking, deeply satisfied, his robe draped across his lap, his hand idly stroking the boy’s back.The boy lay curled against him, naked and in no rush to pop their post-coital bubble. He seemed happy enough watching Hitoya. His gaze was piercing; Hitoya could feel his eyes boring a hole into his skull, trepanation-style.“Who were you thinking about?” asked the boy.Hitoya, mid-inhale, all but choked on his cigarette. A mouthful of smoke suddenly clogged his lungs, sending him into a brief, violent coughing fit.“Wh-what?” he wheezed after finally catching his breath. His eyes were watering. His face was probably a hideous, bruise-colored red.They stared at each other. They were wearing the same guilty expression.“I was thinking of someone else,” the boy confessed softly.“I was—you were? You used me?”“I would never do something like that!” The boy shook his head like a wet dog. “Let’s call it a thought exercise instead.”“I guess that makes us even,” Hitoya said, eyebrows raised. This was a first for him. “It's okay. I can’t fault you for it.”“Don’t get me wrong, it was still good for me. Really good—”“I know.”“And god, you’re so handsome, but you’re not…”“I know,” said Hitoya.The boy sat up and gestured for a cigarette; Hitoya passed him one fresh from the carton, along with the lighter. “Thing is, I don’t think he’d even be interested in me,” he admitted.“I think you’re selling yourself short. You’re pretty much impossible to resist.”“Stop,” the boy said with a grin. “I probably shouldn’t get involved with him anyway. Like, I don’t think it’s exactly allowed under school policy.”Oh. They were talking about his professor, then.“Wait until you graduate,” offered Hitoya.“I guess so. It’s just hard to wait that long. I really like him. Every time I see him, I want him so badly it fucking hurts.” The boy wrapped his arms around himself. “I think I’m in love with him. Is that pathetic or what?”“It’s not pathetic,” Hitoya said gently. “You can’t help how you feel.”They smoked in silence, their minds elsewhere, ruminating on the love left rotting in their hearts.“So who is he, anyway?” the boy asked Hitoya. “The one you really want.”“Someone I shouldn’t get involved with, either.”“Sure, but why? Are you his boss or something?”
God, if only.
“It’s complicated,” said Hitoya. “I know that sounds like complete bullshit, but there’s no better word for it. In my case, it really is fucking complicated.”The boy watched Hitoya simmer with frustration. “Talking about it might help you feel a little better. I’ll listen. It’s the least I can do.”It took a moment for Hitoya to begin. How far back should he go? Did it even matter? Or did it make all the difference?“Our history is complicated. I’ve known him for a long time, which, given the circumstances, is less than ideal. Much less. Actually—I don’t even wanna think about it right now.” Dodging that minefield, Hitoya mulled over his words. “He means more to me than almost anyone. He’s not just a friend or a colleague. He’s someone I look after. Someone who looks up to me. He trusts me to do right by him.”He sighed deeply. “And that’s not even mentioning how young he is.”“That’s a lot more complicated than I thought it would be,” the boy said slowly. “And there’s not much I can say. But I think even if it’s not perfect, even if it’s over-complicated and messy—so what? It’s still yours. And if it’s yours, there’s something there. Some kernel of goodness and truth and love.”With his pointer finger, he smoothed out the deep furrow between Hitoya’s eyebrows. “So don’t look so sad.”“I’m not sad,” he lied.The boy didn’t press further. He ashed the last of his cigarette and hung over the side of the bed to pick his boxer briefs off the floor.“Y’know, he’s actually a little older than you,” he said, “my… the guy I like.”“Just between us: he’s a little younger than you.”The boy let out an exaggerated gasp. “Not too much younger, I hope! Gee, Mister Hitoya, you really are a dirty old man.” He laughed, sounding very pleased with himself, and pushed his bangs out of his face. “We’re both so utterly fucked.”Hitoya laughed too—genuinely and without a hint of bitterness—at the absurdity of it all. “Don’t I fuckin’ know it, kid.”It was the first time he’d voiced these feelings aloud, and it felt like a weight had been lifted. For once, he didn’t regret giving in to a younger man.“Hey,” he said, his tone soft, “how could you tell, anyway?”“The look on your face when you fucked me. You never looked at me that way the whole night.” The boy smiled resignedly. He understood that was part of the deal.Then he stretched. “I better get going. I need to wake up early to finish an essay.”“You gonna be okay getting home?” asked Hitoya. “I don’t mind paying for a taxi.”“Oh, wow—that's nice of you, thanks! But don’t worry about me. I’ve stayed out way later than this.”A part of Hitoya wanted to offer the boy his number—“just call me if you change your mind” would be a perfectly valid excuse. But in his heart, he knew their relationship wouldn’t go anywhere. It lived and died tonight.“I had a good time with you,” the boy said. “I’m not just saying that to be polite. I mean it! I kinda wish we weren’t both in love with someone else.”“If only we were so lucky,” said Hitoya dryly. “And I had a good time too. You’re full of surprises—not in a bad way. In the best kind of way.”Something compelled him to brush aside the hair hanging in the boy’s face. He spoke with tenderness, as if he was speaking to another sad, lonely boy. “I know it’s tough right now, but I promise it won’t be like this forever. You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. You’ll figure it out. So in the meantime, take good care of yourself, alright?”The boy gazed at him, eyes shining like quicksilver, and offered him a beautiful smile. “Alright, I will. And I gotta say, you’ve got a heart of gold in there, Hitoya. Follow that heart and you’ll be fine.”But Hitoya would soon be alone again in the small, dark hours of the morning, with no one left to distract him. Dread began to fill every aching chasm within him. There was only one solution, and it wasn’t an option. So instead, he could drink until he passed out, or he could go for a midnight ride. He could play guitar until his fingers bled, or he could smoke a full pack of cigarettes or two. The alternative was a quick and dirty emotional breakdown. Or…Before the boy could gather up the rest of his clothes, Hitoya reached for him, catching his wrist, and made a selfish request.“One more kiss for the road?”They fell back into each other’s arms. The boy’s eyes closed as easily as if he were slipping into a dream. If he listened to his heart, Hitoya knew to hold him tightly and kiss him softly, like he was someone precious and so beloved; like he was Jyushi.