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In the Closet	By : angelapirateryoko Category: zMisplaced Stories [ADMIN use only] > manga Views: 908 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the anime/manga that this fanfiction is written for, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-In the Closet
- 1
In the Closet

by Angela

10-30-06

In some part of my mind, I must've heard the
water running.� It was the kind of thing
that would've never gotten by me in the past, but it seemed that my senses were
getting dulled by complacency.� I didn't
notice the sound until the faucet turned off.�
It bugged me, but not as much as it should've � I knew I let my guard
down too much there, but I just didn't know what to do about it.

��

�I am going to shower now,� Eiji announced as
he came in from the kitchen.� He wiped
his hands on his jeans, and I noticed the damp hand prints left on the faded
denim.

��

I glanced at the clock, surprised that twenty
minutes had gone by already.� �Did you
do the dishes by yourself?� I asked, sliding a slip of paper into the my book
and resting it on the arm of the couch.�
�I was going to help.�

��

He made a face.� �I called but you were reading and didn't hear,� he said with a
mock scowl.� �I think this is a way to
ignore me?�

��

�Think of it as punishment for dinner,� I
teased.� He� served me some kind of fish soup � I half expected to find
something still alive beneath the murky broth.�
I dutifully choked it down, but I still had doubts about whether or not
it qualified as food in America.

Eiji looked outraged.� �Then tomorrow, you cook,� he said
flippantly, turning on his heel and stalking off toward the bedroom.�

I laughed to myself as I watched him go,
knowing that there would be no hard feelings by the time he came back from his
shower.�� It was what our friendship had
fallen into, this teasing pattern of slights and forgiveness.� Ever since I got back from my stint in that
bogus mental health facility I� started
staying home most nights - that did wonders for us.� We hadn't argued once since I came home.

��

But that night I had an urge, one that might
get me in trouble if Eiji found out.� I
waited for the crash of running water�
to switch to the lighter cascade of the shower.� Once I was sure he wouldn't be out any time
soon, I hurried into the� office.� Other then me and Eiji, no one came in
here.� It was kind of a sacred space for
us � for me because it was the home for my very precious computer, and for Eiji
because he'd converted the closet/laundry room into his darkroom.

He claimed it as soon as we moved in, refusing
to let anyone hang clothes or put away boots or do any of the other things a
person logically did in a closet.� Even
laundry was off limits, which was fine with me.� If he wanted to be the designated handler of stinky socks and
underwear, so be it.�

Eiji had covered the one small window with
black construction paper and� dragged in
a table from the entryway � a work of excellent Edwardian craftsmanship, if I
guessed right, though Eiji evidently had no respect for antiques � and used it
to hold shallow plastic tubs with handwritten labels.� I couldn't read the labels � they were in kanji � but I imagined
they said things like �developer� or �fix� or �rinse.�� He strung a clothesline twice across the
ceiling, hanging empty clothespins to mark space, �so I know how many pictures
I can make at one time,� he explained when I asked.� He changed the brilliant white bulb of the overhead light for a
red one and clipped a plastic cartoon character to its chain.� The counter around the room's small sink was
soon cluttered with some kind of imaging machine and half-empty jugs of
sharp-smelling chemicals.

He showed me this darkroom once, not realizing
that I asked about it just to make conversation.� I didn't even step in; though the walk-in closet seemed pretty
big at first, with all of his stuff in it it was just large enough for him and
a guest, assuming the guest stood fairly still against a wall while Eiji
worked.� I barely paid attention to him
as he explained how he could change a roll of film into glossy black-and-white
photographs; I was preoccupied with my plan, obsessed with my opponent.� I only let him ramble on to humor him, to
remind him that I hadn't forgotten him, when in reality I almost had.

Eiji must've noticed my lack of attention; he
never let me in that darkroom again.�
When I walked nearby he'd always close the door, emphatically from
inside or with a casual kick when he was out in the office.� I tried asking about the whole process
again, but he claimed I was �too busy with real work� to be bothered with the
details.� So the darkroom had been off
limits since, though we were as close as ever in any other room of the house.

It made me curious.

Confident that he wouldn't cut his shower
short to check on the drying process of any new prints, I opened the door and
slipped inside.� I groped in the
darkness in front of me for the pull-chain that would turn on the light.� The plastic toy hit me in the forehead as I
fumbled, but I managed it eventually.�
The tiny room was suddenly bathed in warm red light.� I blinked; in that strange� glow, the place looked like it came from
another world.

Faces stared out at me from space � it took me
a moment to realize that they were prints suspended from Eiji's
clothesline.� It took another moment for
me to recognize my gang.� They were
informal portraits, usually of two or three boys at a time.� What struck me as strange was the way they
looked at the camera, happy in a way I didn't think I'd ever seen before.� From the nearest picture, Alex and his
little cousin smiled out at me, both of them looking years younger than I'd
ever seen them.� Bones offered up his
broken grin in another photo, holding up an apple with the evidence of his
pathetic attempts to bite down all over its shiny skin.

It was like an alternate universe and I took a
long minute to get my bearings.� In my
world, these guys were all street-hardened tough guys who barely had the
inclination to crack a sarcastic joke, much less ham it up for a
photographer.� I wondered what Eiji did,
what he must've said to make them relax like this.� It seemed he worked his magic with just about everyone.� Not just me.

Toward the end of the long rope of pictures I
found one of myself.� I pulled it off
its clothespin, amazed.� I didn't
remember him taking it � I was curled up on the sofa, reading a novel.� Somehow he caught me glancing over the top
of the book, smirking at him with my eyebrows raised.� I wondered what he had said to get that look from me.� I hadn't seen too many pictures of myself,
but I had the idea that my eyes didn't shine like that for just anyone.

No one made me react the way Eiji did.� Even after all those months, I wasn't
frustrated with his constant, hovering presence.� I'd gotten used to it.� I
expected it.� I needed it.� I found lately that every action I took,
every step in my winding process of revenge was shaped and molded by its
possible effect on Eiji.� I even went
out of my way to see Max away from Ib� just so I didn't have to be reminded of
the looming and inescapable fact that my life would have to continue without
him.

Ib� was going to take him home one day.� Nothing put me in a bad mood faster than
that thought, and I'd never been jealous of anyone in my life.

I studied the photograph in my hands and was
inexplicably proud of how good it looked.�
Eiji's composition was flawless and the lighting gave everything � the
couch, the coffee table, even the pages of my book � a soft, almost glowing
effect.� And I looked happy.� My heart constricted as I realized how much
I would've liked to send this kind of picture to Griff, once upon a time.�� He always saw through my falsely cheerful
letters; I would've liked to show him that sometimes I could smile for real.

I was mulling over the impossibility of that
when the door opened.�

At first the light blinded me.� His shape eclipsed the bright doorway;� resplendent sunlight from the uncovered
windows behind him radiated like a dazzling halo around him.� My breath caught in my throat and I squinted
to see.

I hadn't even noticed the shower turn off.

�Why are you here?�� His voice was husky with surprise.

I didn't have an answer.� Perverse curiosity wouldn't win me any
points with Eiji, after all.� I
shrugged, aware of the photograph in my hand.�
I felt like I'd been caught stealing or something.

He closed the door and my eyes adjusted once
more to the eerie glow of red light.� He
was damp.� More than that.� He was soaking wet.� Wearing only a pair of jeans, his body
glistened with the sheen of water.� Even
his hair was plastered to his head, dripping heavy rivulets down his neck and
shoulders.� In his hurry to be there, in
that claustrophobic little closet, he'd ignored the entire process of drying
himself after his shower.� I wondered
why.� I couldn't look away.

�I thought you were still in the shower,� I
said.� It made me look even more guilty,
as though I'd deliberately waited for him to be occupied before breaking into
his sanctuary.� Which I had.�

�I thought I forgot something in the rinse,�
he explained, his brow creased with puzzlement as he looked into the empty
basin of liquid.� �But why are you in
here?�� He plucked the picture from my
unresisting fingers.� �This is not a
place that you are interested in.�

He turned his back to me and shoved my photo
into the center of a stack of other photographs piled on the washer.� For a moment, I missed it, wondering how
long it would take to sort through them all to find it again.�� But then I took a look at the muscular
curves of his back, at the way the long column of his spine disappeared into
the waistband of his jeans.� My mouth
suddenly went dry and I couldn't seem to focus on the fact that he was probably
pissed at me.� With good reason.� �I'm interested,� I choked out.

He tutted
beneath his breath, obviously disbelieving.�

�I am,� I protested, taking a step nearer and
almost regretting it.� The scent of soap
on his skin was dizzying in such a close space.

He looked at me, his mouth twisted in
suspicious uncertainty.� �I have no good
photos of Papa Dino's henchmen,� he warned.�
I momentarily wondered where he learned the word �henchmen.�� He probably watched a lot of television when
I wasn't there.

I shook my head.� �That doesn't matter,� I hurried to explain.� �These,� I swept my hand across the gallery
of portraits that hung just over our heads.�
�These are amazing.� Ib� should
be your assistant.�� The words tumbled from my mouth like water
from a faucet and I barely recognized the worshipful enthusiasm in my
tone.� But it was all true.� I thought he was incredible.

Eiji laughed, his suspicion eased with
flattery.� �Ib�-san would not be happy
to hear that,� he disagreed.� �These are
not important work,� he said, almost apologetically.� �The guys � they ask me for pictures.� And I like to take them.�
But I am certain Ib�-san would find flaws and make me work harder.�

I shook my head.� �You work harder than anyone I know,� I said, my throat tight and
voice unnaturally soft.� I was startled
again by the emotion that seeped out through my words, uncomfortable by my own
unwilling honesty.

Eiji blushed.�
Even beneath the dulling glow of the red lamp, I could see the color in
his cheeks.� �You say that only because
you sleep all day and do not see me sitting in front of TV.�� He reached up and started taking down the
pinned-up photographs.

I tried to help, reaching past him and
accidentally bumping his elbow.� The
prints fluttered to the floor.� I knelt
to scoop them up.� �My fault.� I'm sorry.��
I was actually grateful for the task.�
In the tiny room, I was too aware of his body only inches away from
mine.� He smelled like herbal shampoo,
and I wildly imagined him beneath a stream of hot water, his hands in his sudsy
hair, rinsing off.

But this was exactly the kind of thing I
couldn't allow myself to think.� As it
was, my brain was furiously delivering thoughts of dampness and skin and fast,
hard sex beneath the red glow of the lamp; even looking at Eiji was
difficult.� �I'm sorry,� I said again,
not knowing quite what I was apologizing for that time.

�It's okay,� Eiji replied, his voice strange
and far away.� I glanced up and saw that
he was looking at me strangely.� When he
caught me watching, he knelt on the floor next to me, reaching for the pictures
I'd not yet collected.� For the first
time in my life, I noticed how beautifully a man's forearms could taper into
wrists, and I closed my eyes.� This was
too much to handle.� I needed to shut
down this train of thought entirely.� It
wasn't a new struggle for me; at least once each day Eiji did or said something
that turned me on, but usually I did a better job of turning myself off again.

It wasn't that I didn't want to sleep with
Eiji � obviously the idea had situated itself pretty solidly in my mind � but I
didn't want to want to.� There were at least a dozen reasons why it
was a bad idea.� Even though I promised
not to try to send him back to Japan anymore, I knew he couldn't stay forever.� He was going to leave me someday.� Maybe someday soon.� And if we ever came out and admitted what we
were to each other, expressed how we felt in words or actions, wouldn't it be
that much harder to say goodbye?� On top
of everything, I was pretty sure Eiji was still a virgin.� Hardly one to� mess around casually.

��

I closed my eyes when I realized that I was
still fooling myself.� As if anything
between the two of us could ever be just casual.

�It's a shame you can't take any pictures of
yourself,� I managed to say, trying to keep my voice light.� I hoped that a conversation about
photography might keep my mind away from what I wanted to do with Eiji.� What I always
wanted to do with Eiji.� �Ib� says
you're really photogenic.� I'll bet they
would be good.�� In an attempt at
forcing myself to believe I was at ease, I risked a look at him.

He was watching me again, that same strange
expression on his face.� He
blushed.� �There � there is a way,� he
stammered.� �But I do not need
photographs of myself.� I can look in a
mirror to know what I look like.�

I'd always wanted a picture of Eiji.� Something to keep even after � after
everything.� �It's not about seeing
yourself,� I protested.� �It's more
about preserving a memory, so you won't forget the time you spent doing things
with friends.�� Once, when we were
fourteen, Nadia took a picture of Shorter and me.� It was my favorite thing for a long time, until one of Dino's
maids did the laundry without sorting through the pockets.� I wanted something like that with Eiji.� Something to look at, to make me feel better
when life went to shit.

Eiji looked uncertain.� �Then a picture of just me would not work,�
he said slowly. �I would need to take one of us both.� But if you do not want that,� he amended in a rush, �then it is
okay.� I remember well enough
without.� My memories of you are
precious to me.�

��

My heart jumped in my chest.� Every once in a while Eiji was almost a bit
too honest.� It always made me feel like
I wasn't honest enough.� �That's why we
should have a picture,� I insisted, handing him the stack of photos with
shaking hands.� �To keep our . . .
precious memories clear.�� He sucked in
his breath sharply, releasing it in almost a sigh against my cheek, and I
wondered if the whole world wouldn't benefit from feeling the way I did right
then, when I really knew that our feelings were mutual.

�Where?� he asked.

Alex was bringing some of the guys over for a
strategy meeting, and the last thing I wanted was to be interrupted.� I doubted there was any way to explain to
the gang that we were trying to preserve a memory, that this little photography
session was more important right then than defeating Dino or finding out about
banana fish.� Besides, if Alex broke it
up, we might not get another chance.�
But everyone knew that the darkroom was off limits � they'd never look
for me here.� �Here is good,� I
suggested.� �It's not too dark, is it?�

�I can use a flash, but they will not be very
good,� Eiji explained in a hesitant voice.�
�It will look like they are from a photo booth at the mall.�

��

�I like photo booths.�� I'd never actually used one � until Eiji
showed up and started waving his camera around I tended to associate
photography with porn � but once some of the guys spent an afternoon goofing
off in one and brought back the pictures.�
It looked like fun.� And even if
the pictures turned out terribly, this would be another day with Eiji to look
back on someday.� And as corny as it
sounded when I said it out loud, these stolen moments with him were precious to me.

As Eiji struggled with the stiff tripod, I
slid past him.� �Is the wall a good
enough backdrop?� I asked, rummaging through the dryer for a sheet or blanket.� �I can find some kind of curtain or
something to hang up.�� He turned to get
the camera from the shelf at the same time I yanked a grey sheet from the
tangle of bedding and I knocked into him.�
He wobbled against the empty tripod and it crashed to the floor.

��

�Do what you want,� he scolded.� �Just stop moving!�� He swatted at me as I squeezed past him
again.� �There is not enough room to run
around.�

Moving as little as possible, I managed to
drape the bed sheet over the clothesline.�
Eiji grabbed the stool from the corner and positioned it in front.� �Come here,� he barked.� I obeyed, trying not to smile; sometimes he
was cute when he bossed me around.� He
hopped up on the stool and pulled me by the sleeve of my t-shirt until I stood
just where he wanted me.� Then he jumped
back down and checked the camera's viewfinder.

��

�Wait!� I said suddenly.� �We don't match.�� Eiji's chest, though finally dry, was still naked.� His skin looked fantastic.� I pulled my own shirt off and tossed it onto
the floor by the door.� �Better now, go
ahead.�

��

Eiji blushed.�
�That is not important,� he protested softly.�

�Sure it is.��
I didn't want him to feel self conscious when he developed those
pictures.� Besides, what didn't kill you
made you stronger, and I was in a crazy enough mood to want to torment myself
with bare skin next to bare skin.

He pressed a button and a little red light on
the camera began to flash.� Eiji hurried
back into place.� His shoulder pressed
against my arm and I immediately regretted my hasty decision to get rid of the
shirt.� His skin was hot, and it made me
hot.� Too hot.�

The camera's flash went off and I was positive
that I looked uncomfortably horny.� �I
was making a weird face,� I complained.

Eiji grinned.�
�Camera will take a picture every thirty seconds until I turn it off,�
he said.� �So smile this time.�

I draped my arm around Eiji's shoulders.� We'd stood like that a thousand times
before, but never shirtless, and I hadn't anticipated the difference.� What was usually a comfortable way to
express easy affection and friendship was suddenly surprisingly intimate.� The muscles in Eiji's shoulders tensed and I
felt his spine stiffen.� Every nerve in
my arm came to life and I wondered if it wasn't too late to let go.

Click.� The flash brightened
the room and the shutter zipped open and then closed again.

�It was no good,� Eiji complained grumpily,
wiggling out from under my arm.� �Maybe
you are standing too close.�

�Maybe your hair's a wreck,� I countered.� His hair, though still wet, was starting to
return to its normal buoyant state.�
Somehow parts of it were standing up in different� directions while other sections lay� flat.�
I ran my hand through the damp mess, hoping to tame it.� It was much thicker than I expected, and I
blinked stupidly when the sweet scent of his shampoo wafted around us.

�Let me,� Eiji protested in a strained
voice.� He reached up to stop me, a
dismayed expression on his face.� His
fingers curled around my wrist and a shiver of awareness ran through my whole
body.� He was so close.� We both froze.�

�Eiji,� I whispered, almost against my
will.�� Everything I was trying not to
think about rushed back into my mind.�
What dangerous game were we playing anyway, with this romping half naked
in the dark privacy of the closet?�

He looked up at me, and it occurred to me that
he must've felt it too � his lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but
no sound came out.� He looked helpless
and besotted and the perfect mirror of everything I was feeling.

The camera flashed for the third time, but
that time, neither of us moved.

�Why is it always like this?� he asked
quietly.

�Like what?��
My voice sounded low and raspy.�
Although I knew exactly what he was talking about, I wanted to hear it
said; I wanted words to assign to this feeling.� Words we were allowed say out loud.

�This,� Eiji said faintly, his hand dropping
from my wrist to fall into his lap.� His
eyes wouldn't leave mine.� �Always this
. . . wanting.�

My breath escaped in a ragged sigh, fluttering
the edges of his drying hair.�
�Wanting,� I repeated.� It wasn't
a question.� Rather, it was a
confirmation � a label to attach to something that was quickly becoming too big
for either of us to contain.� Hearing
Eiji's soft, accented voice say it made me weak.

The flash cut once more through the red-tinged
darkness, but that time I barely registered it.� My hand was still tangled in Eiji's thick hair, so I slid it back
to cup his neck where damp hair touched skin.�
It was as though I'd been granted permission, as if our mutual
acknowledgment of this feeling gave me the right to do what I'd only fantasized
before.

He blinked and leaned back into my palm.� �I've never,� he said, faltering as his eyes
flickered momentarily closed.� �I've
never wanted such things . . . so intensely.�

I understood.�
We were both guys.� Both
young.� We knew all about wanting.� But this was different � this longing came
in heavy waves that crashed but never retreated.� I wanted to agree, to say anything that would erase the look of
shy distress from Eiji's face, but my words were gone.�

�It's okay,� I said finally, surprised when it
came out sounding like a question.

Eiji nodded, his sooty eyelashes already
falling closed.

My breath caught as I leaned down to catch
those lips that fascinated me for so long.�
They were soft and pliant beneath mine and I forgot all the dozens of
reasons why not.� His mouth parted and
his tongue moved cautiously across mine. I could feel his hands trembling as
they slid around my waist.� I moaned softly
against his lips; this was the very thing I wanted most � Eiji's hands on my
bare skin, his mouth promising without words that he would be mine.

I pressed my palm onto his lower back,
skimming my fingers beneath the worn edge of his jeans.� He made a noise like a whimper.� The sound excited me.� I tried it again, this time plunging two
fingers lower to brush across the swell of his buttocks.�

Eiji, pulled back, looking at me with wide,
wild eyes.� His cheeks were flushed and
his mouth wet.� He was still perched on
the edge of the stool, and he spread his knees and pulled me between them.� His hands on my waist were hot and firm,
pressing me tightly against him until I was aware of the hard pressure of his
arousal through the denim against my stomach.�
I thought I might die.

�I have had dreams like this,� he confessed
softly, his voice contradicting the forceful way he moved me.� �But we are awake?�

It seemed unreal, maybe like a dream.�� So many times I thought I'd given in
before, thought I was really touching him before I woke up, alone in our room
and feeling empty from another erotic dream.�
But this time I could taste him in my mouth, feel the soft cotton edges
of the pockets of his jeans.� He smelled
like Eiji.� �We're awake,� I confirmed,
hoping with all my being that I was right.��

�Then promise me, Ash,� he murmured, bending
his face to my neck, his mouth kissing damp spots onto my skin.� I knew I'd give him the world if he
asked.� �Promise me that you won't hate
this tomorrow.�

As if I could.� I'd already spent too long fighting this, hating myself for
feeling this way about someone with so little experience, so little knowledge
of what he was falling into with me.�
Everything about me was bad news for Eiji � he'd stuck by me long enough
to figure that out and more � and yet there he was, his fingers twisted in the
belt loop at the back of my jeans, his mouth on my throat, my collarbone.� So much to marvel at; there was no room in
me for hate anymore.� �Hate?� I
whispered incredulously into his ear.�
�I've spent the past year longing for you.�

A relieved sigh escaped his lips, warm and
then instantly cool against my skin.� I
wondered how I got to be so harsh, so abrasive that Eiji was worried about
something like that.� It made me feel
bad, as though there was something wrong in the way I'd dealt with him before
then.� I moved one hand back to his
hair, petting gently and letting my fingers trail down his neck, following the
curve of his spine.� �I'm sorry,� I
whispered � it was almost just a thought, barely audible even at such close
range.

I pulled him off of the stool, then was
surprised and delighted when, rather than standing up, he wrapped his legs
around my hips.� Knocked off balance, I
stumbled against the wall.� The stool
fell with a clatter onto the concrete and the billowing sheet was caught
beneath us and tumbled off the clothesline and over our shoulders.�

Eiji lunged, catching the wall with his hand
and quickly steadying his feet beneath him.�
�Ah, sorry!� he cried.� I laughed
and pivoted so that he was pressed between me and the wall.� We kissed again, this time relying on the
support of the sturdy bricks.� My knees
were weak and I wasn't sure how much longer I could stay on my feet without
leaning.�

For a long time we stayed like that, our hands
and lips exploring.� It was strange,
making out like that.� It was what
normal kids did, I guessed, but I'd never done it before, and I was amazed to
discover how good it felt just to touch and kiss.� Eiji left hickeys all over my throat and chest, and once or twice
his hand moved into my jeans, teasing me with gentle touches and skimming
fingertips.� He made soft noises and
murmured words in both English and Japanese.�
I touched him everywhere, slid my worshipful hands across his chest and
down his legs before dropping to my knees in front of him.

He made a noise of protest, grabbing at my
arms to pull me back up.� �Ash,� he said
desperately, his eyes pleading.�

I glided my hands around his denim-clad hips,
nipped at his thighs with my teeth.�
�It's okay,� I assured him.�
�This is one of the best things, I promise.��

He nodded a feeble assent and his fingers
moved unsteadily through my hair.� I
unbuttoned his jeans and slid them slowly down his legs.� My heartbeat sped in anticipation.� His cock was hard � more than willing � and
I� guided it carefully into my mouth.

Eiji moaned.

The sound made me want to cry.� I had no idea how amazing it could be, doing
this with someone I loved.� I caressed
him with my lips and tongue, using every trick I learned to bring him to the
brink without actually coming.� His
knees gave out slowly and before long he was leaning his full weight on the
wall, barely able to stand up.� I'd seen
that reaction before, but I took more pride and pleasure in the fact that it
was Eiji that I was making feel so good.�
I lavished him with attention until he begged me both to stop and to
never stop.

Only then did I grant him his deliverance,
catching his shuddering release in my mouth and swallowing every drop of the
hot, bitter stuff.� He cried out.� He grabbed my hair.� His voice choked on my name.� His legs wobbled and collapsed; he slid down
the wall, scraping his back on the exposed brick.

Happy but not yet satisfied, I caught him up
in my arms and kissed him hard on the mouth.�
His tongue attacked mine, his mouth hungry and devouring.� �I want to be inside you,� I growled between
kisses.� �I need.�� Suddenly his hand was in my jeans, his
fingers wrapped around my erection and I pressed my mouth onto his to keep back
the groan of pleasure.� �To fuck you,� I
insisted, biting his lips and chin.

Eiji nodded, his eyes limpid and
trusting.� I had the feeling he'd let me
do anything I� wanted just then.� I pushed my index finger into my mouth,
getting it as sloppy and wet as I could manage.� Eiji's eyes widened, and he reached up to grab my hand.� With an almost coy smile, he pulled it to
his mouth, sucking the finger between his soft lips and wrapping his tongue
around it until I was sure I'd explode with tension.

When he finally released my finger, it was
sopping wet and ready.� I slowly pushed
it into him.� He looked shocked, almost
panicked.� �W � wait!� Ash!�

�

�Relax,� I whispered, dropping feather-light
kisses all over his face.� �Just let
your body relax � it will feel good soon.��
I began to move, gently getting him ready for more.� Eiji exhaled violently; his dark eyes
drooped closed.� His face was a collage
of expressions � fear, embarrassment, pleasure � every one beautiful and
perfect.� With my other hand I fumbled
with my jeans, wiggling out of them as gracefully as I could manage without
taking any of my attention away from Eiji.

I slid a second finger inside him and his hips
bucked toward me.�� He weakly asked for
more, his voice little more than a whimper.�
I wished I had some kind of lubricant.�
My eyes scanned the darkroom, hoping to find something acceptable, but
the closet was full of dangerous chemicals � nothing even remotely safe.� I spit in my hand, using that to wet down my
cock.� Not the best solution, but better
than nothing.� I breathed deeply, making
myself slow down.� I knew just how much
this hurt when your parter wasn't careful.

At first he tensed up, resisting me.� �Eiji,� I cajoled softly, leaning down to
kiss his swollen mouth.� �Eiji
relax.� Let me.� I don't want to hurt you.�� I kissed his throat and chest, teasing his
nipples with my fingers until he was writhing beneath me, happy again.

I pushed.�
�Ah!� he cried, grabbing my back and burying his face in my neck.� His breathing was ragged, panicked.� It scared me just a little to know that I
could be the one to cause that.� I� forced myself to be still, to wait until he
adjusted to me.

�Is this okay?� I asked after a bit, my voice
strained with the effort of control.

Eiji looked at me.� His eyes were bright even in the dimness of the red light.� �I love you,� he whispered, pushing my
sweaty hair from my face.� �Always, I
will love you.��

I already knew it, but hearing it said out
loud was so much different from just knowing.

I started to move.� Eiji gasped and shuddered, then moved his hips up to meet
mine.� A hesitant smile fluttered across
his face.� �It is good,� he
breathed.� �You are so warm, so heavy.�

Once I was sure he was enjoying it, I picked
up the pace, eager for my own fulfillment.�
I heard a moan escape my lips; he was so tight, so hot.� My hands clenched in the sheet beneath us,
my knuckles pressing hard on the concrete floor.� I wanted to grab his hair, to take him violently, but I knew it
was way too soon for that kind of thing.�
I made myself slow down.

�I've wanted this,� I said against his chest,
my tongue darting out to taste the beaded sweat on his sternum, �for so long,
Eiji.�

His hands skimmed down my back to cup my
backside; his nails cut almost painfully into my flesh.� He urged me closer, pushing his hips up and
wrapping his legs around me.� �I didn't
know what I wanted,� Eiji murmured near my ear.� �Except that I wanted you.�

I held on for just a moment longer and then I
was lost, shuddering and gasping.� My
voice was torn from me, a cry I'd never heard before.� Eiji's hands were warm on my back, cradling me even as I
came.� I collapsed, my sweaty flesh
pressed completely against his.

It seemed like my heartbeat wouldn't slow,
even when I breathed deeply and tried to calm down.� I rolled off of Eiji and pulled him close to me.� The floor was cold on our fevered skin, and
the smells of shampoo and developing solution slowly overrode the heady scent
of sex.�

�We are okay?� Eiji asked, his voice hesitant.� �This will not change things between us?�

I thought about it.� Would our being lovers really change things for us?� Would I pay him more heed, think of him more
often?� No.� He was already the first person I thought about in any situation,
the one I ached to come home to at the end of the day.� We already belonged to each other, long
before that day.� �No,� I told him after
a bit.� �You might find me crawling into
your bed at night instead of mine, but otherwise, nothing changes.�

He nuzzled against me.� �Good.�
I was getting tired of sleeping alone.�

He sounded so self-satisfied, so smug, that I
burst out laughing.� I couldn't help
it.� He looked at me for one bewildered
second before joining in.� Everything
felt good right then.�

Then Eiji kissed me, sliding his hands down my
chest at the same time.�� My body
reacted; the laughter died in my throat.�
�We can do this again, yes?� he asked, lowering his lashes coyly.� I was flabbergasted.� So he had a good appetite.� I thanked god I was still young.

A knock on the door stopped us before we could
even begin.�

�Um, Eiji?�
This is Alex.� Have you seen
Ash?� He was supposed to meet us here
tonight.�� The doorknob rattled.� Even though everyone knew better than to
randomly open the door to a darkroom, it looked like Alex might.

Eiji scrambled into a sitting position,
curling the sheet over both of our laps, as though this small token of modesty
would matter if Alex walked straight in.�
�Do not open the door!� he cried.�
�We are developing photographs right now!�

There was a bit of a shuffle as Alex let go of
the knob.� �Is Ash in there with you?�

�I'm here,� I said.� There wasn't any other way out of the room, and Alex and the guys
would be sure to figure it out if I tried to lie.� I pulled on my jeans, using my most authoritative voice for my
lieutenant.� �We can't come out for a
few minutes, because of the pictures, so why don't you start things off without
me?�

Eiji was giggling.� He had his hand clamped over his mouth, muffling the sound, but I
had to work hard to keep from catching his eye.� If I looked at him, I was sure that I'd start laughing, too.

�Sure thing, boss,� Alex said briskly.� I could hear the sound of his feet shuffling
on the carpet as he walked away.

Eiji laughed out loud, picking up his blue
jeans and yanking them over his legs.�
�That was close,� he said.

I grinned back, but inside I was edgy.�� It was almost too close.� I was pretty sure that my gang had already
made up their minds about Eiji and me, so it wasn't like proof of the fact
would shock anyone, but I wasn't ready to share this yet.� This was between me and Eiji and it wasn't
anyone else's business at all � the fact that we were almost exposed in the
same moment that we discovered each other made me nervous.

I stood behind Eiji and put my arms around
him.� He leaned back against me as if it
were the most natural thing in the world.�
Maybe it was.� �I guess I have to
go meet them,� I said gruffly, not wanting to walk away.

He turned his head, dropping a kiss on my
bicep.� �And I should do something with
that,� he commented, nodding at the forgotten camera on its tripod.�� It wasn't flashing anymore � sometime
pretty early on I forgot all about it.

�How much do you think it got?� I asked,
feeling a flush wash over my face.

Eiji smirked.�
�The whole roll was used up,� he said.�
�But the camera could not see us on the floor.�

I turned him around in my arms, pressing him
against my chest.� His arms came around
my waist, holding on tightly.� I felt
his heartbeat against mine, his breath hot and moist on my skin.� �I want to see them all,� I told him in a
low voice.� Even the pictures of the
blank wall � I wanted to look at that and know exactly what we were doing when
that flash went off.� I considered
putting a picture like that in my wallet; it would be that much more special
for being our secret.

He fidgeted in my arms, cringing as though
trying to make himself smaller.� �It is
a lot of wasted film,� he said in a tiny voice.

�Wasted?��
I looked down at him and saw that he was embarrassed.� I kissed him softly.� �They'll all be perfect.�

Eventually I went out to Alex and my war
council.� Eiji stayed in the darkroom
for a few hours, apparently hard at work.�

The next day I woke up to find� photographs on the nightstand between our
beds.�� They were black and white, cut
in a long strip of three, just like the photo booth pictures that the guys
showed me.� In the first picture we
looked uncomfortable.� In the second we
were kissing.� And the third was of a
blank brick wall, the sheet fluttering to the ground near the bottom of the
shot.� It was my favorite.

I glanced at Eiji's bed, where he was curled
up and fast asleep.� He came to bed so
late, I wondered why he didn't just climb in with me.� It was a mistake easily remedied.� I tucked the strip of pictures into the drawer and slid out of
bed.� I climbed into his and wrapped my
arms around him, ready to make a whole new batch of memories.
- 1
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In the Closet