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Balance	By : sailormac Category: +G to L > Hikaru no Go Views: 10858 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hikaru no Go, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

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BALANCE
A Hikaru no Go Sekkushiaru Roman Series
By Sailor Mac

PART FOUR: MENTAL (3/3)

Kyoko pulled her “good” teapot out of the closet, the one her aunt and uncle had given her on her wedding day. It had been used only twice since then, both times when said aunt and uncle had come to visit. It was a beautiful thing, white ceramic with a subtle floral pattern on the front.

Tonight was definitely an occasion to use it. She was very much looking forward to the dinner.

*I just hope my husband warms up to them,* she thought. When she’d reminded Hiromi of the upcoming visit, he’d just kind of groaned.

“Well, it’s about time we got to know more people in this building!” she said out loud as she went to the refrigerator, making sure she had the ingredients for the beef and potato stew she’d planned to make.

A knock came on her door, and she closed the fridge, confident that she was ready to start cooking. *I hope the boys like that kind of thing,* she thought. *I forgot to ask Shindou-san what kind of food they eat.*

Opening the door, she saw Okawa-san, today wearing a screaming yellow sweatsuit that made her look like the sun itself. Kyoko had an urge to shield her eyes.

“Hello, sweetie,” the old woman said. “Might I trouble you for a stick of butter? I was making cookies and found out I was a stick short.”

“Oh, of course,” Kyoko said. “Come right in.” She headed into the kitchen. “Are your grandchildren coming up again?”

“This coming weekend,” Okawa-san said, walking toward the kitchen door. “I already placed an order at the bakery for the strawberry mochi cakes. My granddaughter loves them so. And I need to go out and get the canned tea with honey my daughter drinks. She will *not* drink anything else. She hasn’t since high school. Of course, my son-in-law prefers that CC Grape soda. Dreadful stuff. It doesn’t even taste like grapes! Why, when I was a young girl -- and this is going backte ate a few years, mind you -- there was a little teahouse around the corner from us that served an absolutely lovely grape juice. . .”

“Here’s your butter,” Kyoko said, coming back out into the living room and wondering how the other woman had said that entire monologue without an audible breath.

“Oh, thank you so much, sweetie,” Okawa-san said. “I do hope I wasn’t interrupting anything.”

“Not really,” Kyoko said. “I was just getting ready to start cooking -- we’re having company for dinner tonight.”

“Oh?” the elderly woman said, raising an eyebrow. “May I ask who?”

“Shindou Hikaru and Touya Akira,” Kyoko replied, brushing back her wavy hair.

“Oh, yes, those two lovely brothers from down the hall!” Okawa-san said. “Oh, no, wait, they don’t have the same family name, do they? Yes, they’re cousins!”

Kyoko frowned a bit. “Okawa-san, they’re not brothers *or* cousins.”

The elderly lady looked genuinely surprised. “They’re *not*?”

“No, they’re not.” Kyoko looked down, feeling a bit uncomfortable for a moment, then decided to just blurt it out. “They’re gay.”

Okawa-san seemed to consider this for a moment, her mouth screwed up in contemplation. Then she said, slowly, “Oh, yes. That’s different. That’s very different.”

Kyoko tensed, wondering if the other woman was about to go off on a rant.

“Well, every man has to go through his gay bachelorhood before settling on one lady, right?” she said. “If they want to live away from their parents and share an apartment while they sow their wild oats, that’s fine with me!” She waved at Kyoko as she headed for the door. “Thanks for the butter, sweetie! See you later!”

As she left, Kyoko just smacked the heel of her hand against her head.

* * *

Akira sat on the couch as he waited for Hikaru to finish up in the bathroom. It seemed he’d been in there for an eternity.

*How long does it take to use the W.C., then go in the bathroom and fix your hair?* he thought. *And he thinks *I* spend hours on my hair?*

His hand slipped into his pocket anlledlled out his cell phone. He flipped it open and checked for messages.

*There’s one,* he thought. *Maybe it’s Father. Maybe he *finally* returned my calls.*

But when he dialed his password, the only message was from Ichikawa-san. She hadn’t seen him in awhile, she was wondering when he’d stop by the salon again, she’d heard about his win today from one of the patrons and wanted to congratulate him on his excellent record . . . HR> He closed the phone, sighing. He hadn’t gone to the Go salon since moving out. He hadn’t seen any of the people in his father’s old study group except at the Go Institute -- like Ashiwara today.

*It’s like I walked away from my old life completely,* he thought.

He felt strangely caught between two worlds. He was no longer fully a part of his own world, and he wasn’t really part of Hikaru’s, either. His lover’s friends had certainly never thought much of him.

*But Shindou hasn’t seen much of his old friends, either,* he thought. *He’s hung up in the middle just like I am.*

He wondered if either of them were going to be able to get back to any semblance of their old lives. He wouldn’t give up his relationship with Hikaru for anything, but if he could have the relationship with Hikaru *and* the relationship with his father . . .

Hikaru finally emerged from the bathroom. “Okay, I’m ready,” he said. He looked at the phone still in his lover’s hand. “Any interesting calls?”

Akira shook his head and put the phone back in his pocket as he stood up.

But he knew he was going to be checking that phone again before they retired for the evening, just in case.

* * *

Kyoko answered the door. “Hello, there!” she said. “Come in, have a seat.”

“Thank you very much for having us,” Akira said, bowing as they entered the apartment.

“Oh, it’s my pleasure,” she said. “Shindou-san, Touya-san, this is my husband,” she said, pointing to the easy chair where Hiromi was sitting, still wearing his shirt and tie from work.

“Hello, Suzuhara-san,” Akira said as they sat on the couch.

“Hello,” he said. Hikaru couldn’t help but notice that the older man looked a bit uncomfortable -- he was avoiding making direct eye contact with them.

“Touya-san, how did your game go today?” Kyoko said.

“Very well,” Akira said. “I won.”

“Do you have games every day?” Kyoko said.

“Um, about two days a week, usually,” Hikaru said, his eyes shifting toward Hiromi, who was uncrossing and recrossing his legs, still not looking directly at them.

“And what do you do the rest of the week?”

“We give lessons a lot,” Hikaru said. “And we supervise amateur tournaments.”

“You have to tell me more at dinner,” she said. “The stew will be ready in a few minutes . . .”

Hiromi abruptly got up. “Excuse me, honey -- I have to make a phone call before we eat. It’s for work, I’m sorry.” He rushed off toward the bedroom.

Kyoko frowned as she watched him go. He hadn’t been home that long before the boys arrived, true, but it probably had been time to make his phone call then!

“Sorry about that,” she told the boys. “I just have to put dinner on the table -- can I get you something to drink in the meantime?”

“No, thank you,” Akira said. Hikaru declined as well.

“All right, then,” Kyoko said, heading off for the kitchen.

Once she was gone, Hikaru let out a groan. “I should have known,” he said.

“Known what?” Akira replied.

“Her husband. He doesn’t want to even look at us, let alone be in the same room with us!”

“What are you talking about?” Akira's eyebrows shot up.

“You know.” Hikaru folded his arms.

“Did you tell Kyoko-san we were a couple?” Akira folded his arms as well.

“No . . .”

“Well, why do you think he can tell just by looking at us?” Akira scowled at Hikaru, his eyes burning lie wae was in the middle of a game.

“Why else would he be so uncomfortable?” Hikaru said, his voice raising a bit.

“He may just be shy about meeting new people,” Akira said. “Lots of people are like that. You’re just paranoid.”

“I am *not* paranoid!” Hikaru said, hands clenching into fists.

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Kyoko was fighting the urge to slam and bang her pots and pans as she took the food up.

*I could kill him,* she thought. *I could just KILL him.*

Hiromi was usually not this shy with guests -- hell, he was downright *rude* tonight. They’d had plenty of people over from work before, and he’d been a perfect gentleman.

*It’s because of their relationship,* she thought. *Once they’re gone, I am going to sit him down and let him have it. He’ll be lucky if he doesn’t end up sleeping on the couch tonight.*

She carried her food to the table, and took a deep breath, composing herself.

*I have to salvage some of this evening,* she thought. *I* still want to be friends with them, even though *he* may not.*

She smoothed her hair back into place, gave one last stir to her stew and walked into the living room.

“We’re just about ready! You can come into the kitchen now.”

The boys followed her, sitting down at the places she indicated. Kyoko had already put a bowl of rice at each place, and now she began to ladle the stew out on top of it.

“My mother taught me to make this,” she said. “I’ve known how to cook it since I was a little girl.”

Hiromi came back into the room, now wearing a polo shirt. He sat quietly at the table, still not looking at either of the guests.

Kyoko sat down, and the four picked up their chopsticks.

“Well,he she said, “let’s eat!”

The others repeated her words and began to dig in. For a moment, there was no sound but chopsticks clinking on bowls.

Then, Kyoko said, “How did you two get started playing Go, anyway?”

Hiromi just looked into his bowl as the one with long hair -- Touya, was it? -- started going into an explanation of how he had learned Go from his father from the time he was a toddler.

It was like listening to someone from another planet speak. Everything about these two was foreign to him. The Go. Their relationship. The fact that they were living on their own and having full-blown careers at an age when he had been agonizing endlessly about getting into college.

*They’re never going to know what it’s like to have to go to work on a crowded train every morning,* he thought. *They won’t have to put up with working themselves until they feel half-dead siys oys out of seven. They just play some board game that my grandfather used to play and get paid for it.*

He wished his *own* life could be so easy. Hell, these two didn’t have to worry about parents pushing them to get into the right high school, then the right college, then the right company. Go was Touya’s *family business*, for crying out loud!

“And Shindou-san?” Kyoko said. “What about you? Do you come from a Go-playing family, too?”

“Um, no,” Hikaru said. “I mean, my grandfather plays, but he’s the only one who does. My father works in an office. So does my uncle. My cousin’s a musician . . .”

*I thought I heard the name *Shindou* before,* Hiromi thought. *So his cousin’s that nutty musician who was on “Iron Chef.”* The idea of a rock-star cousin just made the boy seem even more alien and unapproachable.

He couldn’t wait for this di to to be over.

Shindou was saying, “I just started playing on my own, I guess, and then I joined the Go Club in junior high.”

“What school did you go to?” Kyoko said.

“Haze,” Hikaru replied.

This made Hiromi’s head snap up. “Haze?” he said.

Hikaru looked over at him, a bit of surprise in his eyes. “Um, yeah?”

“I went to Haze!” Hiromi said. “I graduated about 10 years ago.”

“Really?” Hikaru said.

“Tell me -- is Kawazuka-san still there?”

“That old fart?” Hikaru said.

“He was old when *I* was there!” Hiromi said. “We all thought he was going to keel over in class one of these days.”

“Nah, he never did,” Hikaru said. “But he sure coughed a lot!”

Akira looked over at Hiromi. His whole stance seemed to be changing. His tense shoulders were relaxing

“. . . and she was *always* chasing people off the field during soccer practice!” Hikaru was saying. “Always!”

“At least you *had* a soccer team!” Hiromi said. “When I was in Haze, we couldn’t get *anybody* to play! All we had were tennis players, nobody wanted to go out for soccer!”

“You played tennis?” Hikaru said, scooping up more meat and rice with his chopsticks.

“For *one* year,” Hiromi replied, picking up the teapot and refilling cup cup. “I quit because I couldn’t stand the coach. We went on this one overnight away-game trip to Kyoto. They put us up at this really nice place, the Hamilton Hotel . . .”

“I’ve stayed there,” Akira said, quietly. “I’ve played in Kyoto quite a bit.”

“Ever been to the Naniwa restaurant there?” Hiromi said. “It was right by the hotel.”

“Oh, it’s one of my favorites there,” Akira said. “They have another branch in Osaka that I’ve also been to.”

“Oh, the one in Osaka is ever better!” Hiromi said. He was now completely relaxed, waving his chopsticks around to illustrate his points. “I have to tell you about the last time I got sent there -- oh, wait, I was talking about the tennis trip, right? So we got to Kyoto, and right off, Coach Itsuko said --”

“ITSUKO?” Hikaru said, and broke into laughter. “They had *him* coaching tennis? He can’t even walk across a room without falling over!”

Across the table, Kyoko breathed a heavy sigh of relief. What had looked like it was going to be a disastrous evening had been salvaged.

*Okay, so maybe I won’t banish him to the couch tonight,* she thought with a smile.

*

After the meal, they settled down in the living room with cups of tea. Hiromi looked genuinely relaxed and content as he sipped his -- a sharp contrast to his tense demeanor of before.

“Hey, Akira,” he said, “could you guys show me how your game works?”

Hikaru and Akira looked at each other, startled. Kyoko nearly dropped her teacup.

“Are you serious?” she said.

“Of course, I’m serious,” Hi sai said. “The only time I ever saw Go was when my grandfather and his friends played it.”

*Gods,* she thought, *his opinion *did* change! What the hell happened to “Go is a game for old men?”*

“Um, well, we *do* have a portable board in our apartment,” Hikaru said. “I’ll go get it.”

He headed next door, fumbling for his keys. The portable goban was in the Go room, on the top bookshelf. He’d run in, grab it and . . .

As soon as he walked into the apartment, he heard the telephone ringing. Without thinking, hnt ont over and grabbed it.

“Hello, Shindou and Touya residence.”

“Hikaru, it’s your mother.”

*Oh, no,* he thought. *Gods, why now? I swear, she’s paying more attention to me than she did when I lived in that house -- and now, I don’t *want* her attention!*

“Look, Mom,”snapsnapped. “I just stopped by the apartment for a second. I’m having dinner with friends. I don’t have time for . . .”

“All I wanted to tell you,” she said, quietly, “is that it might be a good idea if you got a maid.”

This caught Hikaru off-guard. He was expecting more pleas for him to reconsider his lifestyle, more questions about whether he was really happy with Akira, more offers to come home if he wanted to . . .

“What did you say?” he said.

“Neither of you is very domestic. I noticed that. And you don’t seem to have enough time.”

“Um, no . . .” he said. *Okay, she’s setting it up,* he thought. *The begging for me to come home is going to start any moment now.*

“With your combined income, there’s no reason why you *shouldn’t* have a maid,” she said. “I know someone who used to work f fri friend of mine who would be perfect. She also used to work for another couple like you, so she’s comfortable with that.”

He was stunned. *It almost sounds like she’s accepted me living with Akira,* he thought.

“I have the number here . . . wait a second . . . okay, have you got a pen?”

Hikaru looked around. There was a pen on the counter, but the only nearby paper was paper towels. He tore one off -- it would have to doe ree reeled off seven digits and he wrote them down.

“Thanks,” he said. More words weren’t coming -- his mind was too crowded with pure bewilderment.

“And I’m going to let you go now,” she said. “You want to get back to Akira and your friends. Maybe someday when you’re settled down a bit, and you have a break in your Go schedule, you and Akira could come here for dinner.”

*Okay, now I’m in the Twilight Zone,* Hikaru thought. *She’s accepted us being together . . . she’s going to butt out of my life . . . she’s not keeping me on the phone all night . . .*

“Sure,” he said. “Um, I really have to go, okay?”

“All right. Call me when you can. Good night.”

Hikaru broke the connection and replaced the phone, slowly.

*What the hell happened?* he thought. *Did coming here and seeing us change her attitude *that* much?*

He looked at the seven numbers on the towel. She was right -- they *did*need some help around here. It would be so nice to not have to feel guilty about not doing the housework, to be able to think of Go first.

*I’ll tell Touya about this later,* he thought, going off to get the goban.

* * *

It was several hours later when Kyoko and Hiromi finally said their goodnights to the boys, waving at them as they headed down the hall.

She closed the door behind them and turned to her husband. “So, what happened to you not wanting anything to do with Go?”

“Hey, I changed my mind after I met them,” he said, heading toward the kitchen along with her to clean up. “I didn’t think they were going to be so, well, interesting.”

“What did you *think* they were going to be like?” she said. “Little old men?”

“Well, yes,” he said a pic picked up dishes and started to run them under water.

“And limp-wristed?”

He di146;146;t answer that. He just shoved the dishes he had rinsed toward her. “These are ready for the dishwasher.”

“I asked you a question,” she said, taking the plates and starting to stack them.

“Okay, I didn’t know what to expect,” he said. “I’ve never known anyone who was openly gay before. All I knew hat hat was those mangas my sister used to read . . .”

“Real life isn’t a manga, you know,” she said, taking more dishes from him.

“I know that,” he said, rinsing off the last of the bowls. “But when I started talking to them -- they’re . . . oh, hell, they’re more *normal* than most of the guys I know at the office.”

“Really?” she said, closing the dishwasher and starting it on low. “How so?”

“Well,” Hiromi said, leaning against the counter, “I get the sense that they genuinely *enjoy life*. They’re making their living playing a game. They’re with who they want to be with whether other people like it or not. But some of the guys in the office . . . they’re salarymen because it was expected of them. And they married who their parents wanted them to marry.”

“And does that apply to you, too?” Kyoko said, softly, as she wiped the table.

“You know I married you because I *love* you!” Hiromi replied.

“No, the other part.” She stopped wiping and looked him in the eye. “Are you jealous of those boys because they’re doing something they *want* to do, and you’re not?”

*Dammit,* he thought. *How does she always know what I’m thinking like that? I swear sometimes, the woman has ESP.*

“Maybe,” he said, crossing his arms.

“You know,” she said, wringing out the rag and draping it over the faucet, &#thatthat inheritance we got from my grandmother could go a long way toward financing that store.”

He knew precisely what she was talking about. When they were dating, he’d frequently mentioned it was his dream to open a record store that specialized in classical and jazz, the forms of music that always got lost in the shuffle at the big chain stores.

*Do I really have the courage to do it?* he thought. *Am I like those boys? Am I willing to go out on a limd lid live my life the way *I* want?*

He knew all too well what the answer to that was.

“Maybe in a few years, after we’ve put away some more money,” he said. “We *do* need some for our family, you know. But, anyway . . . we really should have those boys over again.”

*Perhaps if we have them over,* he thought, *some of them will rub off on me.*

* * *

Back in their apartment, Akira put the portable goban back in the Go room. “Well, we had our game for tonight already,” he said. “Although playing Go for an audience was the last thing I thought we’d be doing tonight.”

“Hey, at least they got into it,” Hikaru said, yawning. He walked into the kitchen to get a soda -- and saw the paper towel with the phone number.

The conversation with his mother leapt into his mind. Again, he wondered what had made her have such a thorough change of heart.

“Touya,” he said, heading back into the living room, “the reason I took so long getting back is that my mother called.”

“Oh?” Akira said, coming out of the room. “Again?”

“She . . . sounded different,” Hikaru said, sitting on the couch. “She didn’t want to bug me, she just gave me advice about getting a maid.”

“Really?” Akira said, sitting beside him.

“I think she understands now,” Hikaru said. “Maybe she understands me more than she has in my whole life.”

This brought a small pang to Akira’s heart. *If only my father could understand the same way,* he thought.

Hikaru added, softly, “If only other people could understand, as well.”

Akira looked at him. It was almost as if Hikaru could read his thoughts.

“My friends,” he said. “They’re still . . . they act different. They have ever since they found out.”

“Still?” Akira said.

Hikaru nodded, running a finger along the arm of the sofa. “You know, I once wondered how everyone would react if I tried to tell them about Sai. And I think it would have been . . . pretty much the same way they’re acting now.”

Akira put an arm around Hikaru and pulled him closer. “Maybe they just need more time.”

“Wonder how much time that’s going to be,” Hikaru grumbled. “It already feels like forever.”

Akira sighed. Yes, that’s exactly how long it felt since things had been right with his father. Simply forever. *And I think Shindou’s friends will come around before he does,* he thought.

He knew he needed to lighten the mood a bit -- after their pleasant evening with the Suzuharas, he didn’t want things to get bogged down and gloomy. “Why don’t I go make some tea?” he said, getting up. “We can go over the game we played tonight.”

Akira got off the couch and headed for the kitchen. Hikaru watched him go, still in thought.

He wanted Akira to come back to that couch, all right. But he wasn’t in the mood to discuss their game right now. He wanted to just be *close*.

*I think I know how I can get him to do that,* he thought.

He snuck into the kitchen, where Akira had gotten out the teapot and was now opening a can of tea. As quietly as he could, he came up behind him and grabbed his waist.

Akira gave a loud cry, dropping the filled scoop in his hand back into the can. He whirled around abruptly, started down Hikaru with burning, full-game-face eyes, and said, “What did you do *that* for?”

Hikaru laughed. “You should have seen yourself! You jumped about a foot in the air!”

“How would you like it if I . . .”

“Did that?” Hikaru said. “You’ll have to catch me!” And he ran from the room, Akira taking off in hot pursuit.

Hikaru rushed into the living room and ducked behind the couch. He heard Akira’s approaching footsteps, waited until his lover was just about even with him . . .

Then he took off again, laughing, heading for the bathroom. “Get back here, Shindou!” Akira said, running after him.

Hikaru hid inside the shower, grabbing hold of their detachable shower head. He turned on the water, waiting for his lover’s inevitable entrance. Sure enough, Akira arrived in the doorway, looking like he was in the final rounds of a game against a tough opponent he was *just this close* tllinlling ahead of.

Laughing, Hikaru raised the shower head, letting Akira see the stream of water. The other boy suddenly paled a bit. “You wouldn’t!”

Hikaru started to turn the water toward Akira, who flinched and pulled back, expecting a drenching -- except at the last second, Hikaru shut off the water, then dashed out of the room, yelling, “You’re right, I wouldn’t!”

“Arrrgghh!” Akira said, running after Hikaru. The other boy was running into the bedroom, laughing all the way. Akira put on a burst of speed, then literally launched himself at Hikaru. “Gotcha!” he shouted, as they both tumbled to the bed.

“Aaack!” said Hikaru as Akira grabbed both wrists and held them over his head, pinning him to the bed. There was a long moment when they just stared at each other, panting, their faces flushed.

Then, Hikaru said, “It’s funny. . . I chased you for so many years, and you just chased me!”

“I chased you just as much,” Akira said.

“That was Sai, not me,” Hikaru said, his wrists still pinned over his head.

Akira released him. “No, not just Sai. I watched you develop. I knew what you were becoming.”

Hikaru propped himself up on his elbows. “Really?”

“Really.” Akira lay down next to Hikaru, rolling on his side.

Hikaru rolled to face him, a sly smile on his face. “So what did you chase me for just now?” he said.

“You *scared the hell* out of me!”

“Oh?” said Hikaru, a teasing tone creeping into his voice. “It was *just* that?”

“No,” Akira whispered, moving closer.

Akira kissed Hikaru hard, rolling them both so he was lying atop the other boy, pushing his tongue firmly into his lover’s mouth, feeling a thrill run through his whole body when Hikaru responded. He pushed his T-shirt up, fingers feeling for a nipple.

Hikaru moaned deep in his throat at the sensation of stroking on the hardening bud, then gentle squeezing. His tongue caressed Akira’s as his whole body arched upward, pressing them together.

Gods, he couldn’t get enough of his lover. Having him this close, all the time -- it was heaven. Hikaru didn’t know how he kept from exploding into a messy ball of hormones before he and Akira moved in together.

He reached for the zipper of Akira’s pants, undoing the button and yanking down the fly, plunging a hand in to stroke him through his underwear. Akira’s lips broke from Hikaru’s, and he leaned his head back, letting out a long, deep groan.

“You feel so good,” Hikaru murmured, stroking faster. “Get these things off.”

Akira pulled away, grabbing the hem of Hikaru’s shirt and pulling it upward. Hikaru helped him yank it off and fling it away, then began to work on Akira’s buttons. Their clothes were soon tossed away, and they lay side-by-side, kissing fiercely.

Hikaru lifted a leg and wrapped it around Akira’s hip as they began to rub together, erection pressing against erection as their bodies trembled slightly, one of Akira’s hands coming around to grab Hikaru’s bottom, gently squeezing and caressing.

“Gods, I want you,” Akira gasped, moving his head down to Hikaru’s neck, licking and nibbling at the flesh before locking his lips on one spot at the side of his throat and sucking. Hikaru leaned his head back, moaning.

“Akira,” he panted. “I want to do something . . . we haven’t done before . . .”

“Hmm?” Akira said, as he moved down and kissed a nipple.

“I . . . want us to do each other with our mouths.”

Akira raised his head. “But we’ve done that.”

“Not at the same time.”

Akira sat back. “How are we going to do that?R>
“Well, if you lay on your back, and I get on top of you facing the other direction . . .”

Akira obeyed, and Hikaru straddled Akira’s head, then leaned over so he could reach Akira’s erection. He began to lick along the side -- and felt nothing in return.

He turned around. “Akira?”

“I can’t reach you. You’re way up high.” Sure enough, Akira was craning his neck, trying to reach a manhood that was just out of his reach.

“Oh,” Hikaru said, and lowered his hips -- only to feel contact with Akira. *Too much* contact.

“Not THAT low!” Akira said as he pushed upward. “Look, maybe I should put a couple more pillows behind my head.”

Hikaru got off, and Akira scrambled around for all the pillows, making a stack of them before lying back down. “Okay, let’s try it now,” he said.

But once he was back in position, Hikaru decided, *Why not have some *more* fun?* In his research into sex at the library, he’d come across a book that said many men and women got turned on by foot worship.

*Maybe Akira’s one of them,* he thought. *Only one way to find out.*

He moved down so his mouth was even with Akira’s feet. He began to lay soft kisses over the right instep.

Akira started to laugh. Hikaru raised his head. “What?”

“I’m ticklish there,” Akira said. “I always have been.”

ell,ell, how was I supposed to know?” Hikaru grumbled. He moved back to the position he was in before, swung his leg so he was straddling Akira again, and moved his hips down slowly. “Okay, say when!”

Akira shifted around a little -- even with the extra pillows, finding a good angle for this was going to be tricky. He finally managed to take Hikaru in partway, resulting in a loud moan from his lover -- and then the feel of Hikaru’s mouth sliding around Akira’s manhood.

Hikaru began to suck hungrily, sliding down until he was taking as much of Akira in as he could, remembering the choking incident the last time they’d made love. He stayed there for a moment, moaning in his throat at the feel of Akira doing the same thing to him -- Akira wasn’t going as deep, but he was sucking faster, moving Hikaru in and out.

Bit by bit, Hikaru drew his head back, then moved down rapidly, sucking in long, hard draws. He began to speed up, letting his fingers trail along Akira’s thighs, then moving in to tease the sac beneath his manhood.

Akira took Hikaru out in order to run his tongue along his length in one long, slow stroke, from the root to the tip, where he swirled it around a little before licking back down again. He fluttered his tongue as he moved back up, and when he reached the head again, he felt Hikaru licking along the tip of his own erection, making him cry out.

Hikaru lapped in little circles along the crown, and felt Akira doing the same thing, mirroring his movements. Both boys slid their tongues down each other’s shafts, then up again, before taking each other back in their mouths and starting to suck.

The air was filled with the sounds of sucking and moaning as they moved their heads back and forth, Akira’s hands coming up to squeeze Hikaru’s bottom. Akira knew he wasn’t going to last much longer -- he was starting to feel a tension over his whole body, a burning heat in his belly, a slight trembling in his limbs.

And then, he gave a loud cry as it all exploded, and he was wracked by one hot, sweet shudder after another, his mouth still wrapped around Hikaru as small pulses of electricity shot through him, then faded.

Hikaru felt Akira’s essence flood his mouth suddenly. He wasn’t prepared for it, and he started to choke -- but he held on, and managed to swallow it. He pulled himself out of Akira’s mouth and sat back on the bed.

Akira sat up, confused -- then saw Hikaru and knew what he was expected to do. He moved so he could take his lover back in his mouth, from an easier position this time, and sucked slowly, gently, then built up in speed and intensity, his fingers teasing his inner thighs, then his sac.

Hikaru felt his entire body stiffen, then he gave a loud cry as every bit of him was flooded with liquid fire, pulsing through him over and over, until he collapsed, limp and panting.

Quickly, Akira moved to the side of the bed and grabbed a tissue, spitting the contents of his mouth into it -- he just could not seem to swallow. He discreetly tossed it in the trash, then moved back to Hikaru.

The two kissed, warmly, tasting themselves on each other’s mouths. They wriggled under the covers and settled into each other’s arms, Hikaru’s head on Akira’s chest.

“That was great,” Hikaru yawned. “We have to try it aga#148#148;

“Hmm,” Akira said. He just felt warm and content right now -- if a bit sore in the neck from the position he had to take in order to pleasure Hikaru.

“You’re really good at that,” Hikaru said. “Anyone ever tell you?”

“You’re the only person I’ve ever done that to,” Akira replied.

“Good. That means I’m lucky, then.”

The two snuggled closer as Akira reached over to turn on the alarm and turn off the light, then fell asleep.

* * *

They were on their way to the elevator the next day when they came across Okawa-san. For once, she wasn’t wearing a sweatsuit -- instead, she had on a blouse that had a pattern of vegetables all over it and a black skirt that reached almost to her ankles.

“Hello, there!” she said. “I need to go see the doctor this morning. My big toe is getting swollen aore ore again. My sister-in-law had the same thing, and she said her doctor told her it was some kind of fungus, but I don’t think that’s what I have -- I think I may have arthritis in it.”

Thevatevator arrived. All three got on. She continued talking.

“You see, the lady who used to live directly downstairs from me had arthritis, and it started in one toe, and then spread to her whole foot. I tried to tell her to go to the doctor, but she’d have nothing of it! She said she’d just keep putting Tiger Balm on it, and I told her she was crazy! And sure enough, she couldn’t walk without a limp pretty soon, and then . . .”

Akira and Hikaru exchanged a look. Both boys wondered if the elderly woman had just set some kind of record for most words spoken with a single breath.

They reached the ground floor and started heading for the street, Okawa-san still talking away, when Hikaru saw the burly man who’d insulted them before coming into the building. He froze in his tracks, and tapped Akira’s arm. Akira looked at him, and winced.

Both boys braced themselves, waiting for the inevitable insults aimed at them.

Instead, he narrowly brushed past Okawa-san, and snapped, “Why don’t you watch where you’re going, you old biddy?”

She bowed politely and said, “Excuse me,” then continued out of the building while the man continued to the elevator, not even noticing Hikaru and Akira.

After he was gone, Okawa-san sighed. “That’s Takamura-san. What a terrible fellow. He’s insulted everyone in this building at one time or another. Well, have a good day, boys, I have to go!” And she walked off in the opposite direction from the subway.

The two boys watched her go. “So that nasty guy hates the whole world,” Hikaru said.

“I suppose you thought he was just a homophobe,” Akira said, cooly, as they started off.

“You didn’t?” Hikaru said, jamming his hands into his pockets.

“No,” Akira said, calmly, although he was not entirely telling the truth.

“Oh, come on48; 48; Hikaru said, as they approached the subway. “You’re lying!”

“I am *NOT* lying!” Akira said, whirling around to face him. “You’re paranoid!”

“I’m NOT PARANOID!” Hikaru shouted. “And even if I *was,* that means you’re paranoid, too!”

“You just admitted it!” Akira said, stabbing an accusing figure toward Hikaru.

“I DID NOT!” Hikaru shouted, leaning toward Akira. “Maybe *you’re* the paranoid one!” He turned and dashed down the stairs.

“I am NOT!” Akira said, dashing down after him. “Come back here! SHINDOU!”

* * *

Upstairs, Hiromi grabbed his briefcase. “I may be home a little late,” he told his wife.

“Oh?” Kyoko said, beginning to clean up the breakfast dishes. “Are you going out with your coworkers?”

“No,” he said. “Just making a stop at the bookstore.” He kissed her and headed out the door, heading down the hall.

As he got into the elevator, he reached into his pocket for the all-important piece of paper that contained the names of the two books he had researched early that morning, which he was planning on looking for later -- “Go for Beginners” and “Getting Started With Your Own Business.”

AUTHOR’S NOTES

Okawa-san was based on a couple of ladies who lived on my block when I was a kid. I think *everyone* has had an Okawa-san living near them at one time nothnother.

Thanks tons to Aishuu, who had a big hand in forming this story in its early stages, and Steve Savage, who helped shape the final version. Thanks also to Sonya, the other members of the Nekos and everyone who’s commented on the series so far!

Hikaru no Go is property of Yumi Hotta, Takeshi Obata and Shueisha. These characters ain't mine, I'm just borrowing them for a little while.
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