Above the Haze (Part 2)
Title: Above the Haze
Pairing: Shige/Yamapi
Rating: NC-17
He sat waiting for the general meeting to begin, his eyes scanning the room for familiar faces. Both Yamada and Tatsuro were there and he nodded to each of them. He’d watched the twelve new first-years stream out of the room and smiled at the memory of his own meeting last year. There were only seven students left of the original twelve. His eyes were drawn to the doors and he saw Yamashita slip in to stand against the wall, followed by the speaker. He wondered idly, as he half-listened to the speaker, if Yamashita would be getting any new students this year. Probably only one or two since all three of his first-years had stayed. He felt a sudden streak of jealousy and, embarrassed, focused on the speaker.
He didn’t see Yamashita for the rest of the day until their group meeting with him. He slid into the free seat next to Shige at the table.
“Congratulations,” Yamashita said softly and with a proud smile. “Ours is the only team that didn’t lose a single student. Seriously, though. You’ve all been amazing the last year and I hope you continue with the same high spirit and willpower this year.”
Yamada was grinning and nodding his head hard enough Shige was shocked his neck hadn’t snapped and Tatsuro blushed shyly. He himself nodded once and set his lips.
“Do you have any more students this year, Yamashita-san?” Tatsuro asked quietly and Shige felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. Until he realized that maybe she was asking for the same reason he wanted to know.
Yamashita was shaking his head. “Not this year. Just you three. That means you get as much of me as you all want,” he said throwing his arms wide and laughing. Shige tried to listen to what Yamashita said as he passed out their schedules for the next quartermaster and updated them on new rules and regulations. The speaker in the general meeting had covered them all, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
Yamashita left first and Shige stayed in his seat a few minutes after the other two had left, purposely not thinking about anything at all, before walking slowly to his room. He fiddled on his laptop for a while, read a book, did some pushups and finally just went out into the darkened hallway, quietly padding to the bathroom. When he returned to his room, Yamashita was standing outside it, leaning casually against the wall, hands in his pockets, as he watched him approach. Shige stopped a couple meters away. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Yamashita said with a smile and stood up. Then he very slowly reached out his hand, Shige watched it, strangely fascinated, and placed it on Shige’s arm.
Shige, startled, looked up at Yamashita. The smile was still there but it had turned a little shy. In a fog, he turned and slowly opened his door, gripping Yamashita’s hand and pulling him in after. Yamashita had never initiated, had never even let Shige touch him intimately beyond kissing, and he found himself already breathing hard as he turned around and pushed Yamashita against the door and leaned into him, covering his mouth with his own.
Their movements were slow - hands dragged up sides and slid under shirts, tongues slipping along bared skin. Even when Yamashita reached for the button of Shige’s pants, his motions were unhurried. Shige tested the waters by slipping his fingers under Yamashita’s waistband and dragging them along the skin. Taking the man’s slight press forward of his hips as approval, he snapped the button of his jeans and palmed him through his boxers, his own erection getting impossibly harder at the low moan he let out. He tugged his boxers down and then Yamashita’s, pressing close and grasping both of their arousals in his hand. He kept his pace slow as long as he could, reveling in the feel of Yamashita panting quietly and gripping his shoulders, but he couldn’t last long like that. It felt too good and it had been too long. He sped up his motions until the slipslide was just this side of painful and Yamashita’s head dropped to his shoulder with an “Oh god” before he was coming. The warm slickness was so smooth and startlingly different against his shaft that Shige followed right after, struggling to stay upright. They stood there panting, Yamashita taking Shige’s weight and the door taking both of theirs, until Yamashita squirmed and Shige stepped away to grab some tissues.
They sat quietly next to each other on the bed, all cleaned up and tucked away. “Miss me?” Shige asked, smiling.
Yamashita just smiled at the floor and bumped Shige’s shoulder with his own.
~~~
There were soft presses of fingers against wrists as they passed in the halls, shy smiles over homework in the lounge, muffled moans in the dark of night, and the tenuous drawing together of two people sharing a secret.
“What’s it like up there?” he asked Yamashita one day over lunch. Every weekend he took one of his students out for lunch in the city and today was Shige’s turn.
Yamashita looked up, mouth full of rice, and covered his mouth, chewing furiously.
“Sorry,” Shige laughed, taking a bite of his own food.
Once he’d finished chewing, he said softly, “It’s beautiful… It feels like home.”
And Shige almost choked on his food at the sheer desire in his voice. “Are… are you going to keep instructing for long?” he asked shyly. They never talked about why Yamashita had given up flying to teach.
“I don’t know. I signed a two-year contract with the school and they’d like me to sign another one. I might.”
Shige didn’t press him. He could always feel that it was a touchy subject with Yamashita whenever the subject even thought about coming up either between them or anyone else. But when they left the restaurant Yamashita walked closely so that their arms pressed together in the silence between them.
~~~
Only one more year, he caught himself thinking one night, and then we don’t have to hide it anymore. And a panic rose in him at the thought. He squeezed his eyes shut, hastily thinking at himself, Don’t complicate this, Kato, Don’tcomplicatethis. But what scared him more was losing Yamashita when he inevitably did so.
Yamashita certainly didn’t help when he whisked Kato away one Saturday to go to an abandoned hangar an hour outside the city. Vines inched themselves up the dingy white walls, broken windows glinted in the dull light and the grass was tall enough that it felt like wading as they worked their way over to stand on the cracked runway. Yamashita had been silent the whole trip and the atmosphere was … not uncomfortable, but edging on uncertainty so he kept quiet too. Even now, when Yamashita twined their fingers together and stood looking off into the distance.
After what felt like forever, he spoke. “This was my grandfather’s.”
Shige turned to look curiously at him. “Your grandfather was a pilot?” he asked with a small smile.
Yamashita bit his lip and bobbed his head, still looking forward. “He loved flying. Every other story he told was about it. He was so proud the day I made it into the flight academy. My father was afraid of heights,” he said with a chuckle, “so I think my grandfather had put all his hope in me.”
Shige squeezed Yamashita’s fingers encouragingly. “And you became a pilot,” he said, smiling.
“Hmmm.”
Shige studied Yamashita’s profile carefully, the small frown and the beginnings of wetness in the corner of his eye.
“He died just over a year ago,” Yamashita blurted out.
“I. I’m sorry. You…” He did some quick thinking. “That’s why you became a second instructor?”
Yamashita nodded as he absently worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “I was too caught up in the details…” he trailed off and finally turned to look at Shige, tears swimming in his eyes and threatening to spill over.
Shige impulsively tugged Yamashita to him, dropping his hand to wrap his arms around the man’s shoulders. And then Yamashita’s hands came up to fist themselves in the back of Shige’s shirt and he bit back a sob.
“Hey. Hey,” he smoothed his hands across Yamashita’s back. “It’s okay.” Then tears were soaking his collar and his shirt was stretched too tight across his chest. He rested his cheek against Yamashita’s hair and made soothing noises in the back of his throat and let the man cry himself out.
An hour later they sat leaning against the dilapidated building, Yamashita tucked against his side, Shige’s arm slung around his shoulders and Yamashita’s fingers drawing patterns on Shige’s thigh.
“Thank you.” The words were quiet, barely there. “Today’s his birthday,” he said, louder.
Nodding his head, he squeezed Yamashita’s shoulder and turned to kiss the top of his head. Yamashita didn’t want to let go and they held hands until their train came into Tokyo. That night Shige slept fitfully; dreams of holding Yamashita up against a raging tide and fighting to keep himself upright playing on repeat the whole time.
~~~
“Kato-kun is so cool,” Yamashita breathed, a small smile on his lips and heat behind his eyes.
Shige’s head whipped around to see if anyone was watching because the look on Yamashita’s face couldn’t be mistaken for anything but predatory. No one was. He walked away slowly, not even looking at Yamashita, to tap Yamada on the shoulder, gently touching his own forehead with his other hand. “Hey. I’m not feeling too well. I’m going to head to bed, ok? Happy birthday, man.”
Yamada seemed genuinely concerned and Shige felt sort of guilty for lying; but not enough to stop. He knew Yamashita would be watching him with worried eyes and going to ask Yamada what was going on. Yamada would tell him, Yamashita would frown and then say his ‘good night’s so he could “make sure Kato’s ok. You know him.” They’d exchange knowing smiles and Yamashita would stride to meet Shige outside his door in 3. 2. 1.
A hand slid over his where it was unlocking the door and Shige half-turned to look at him. Yamashita pressed close, his erection outlined against Shige’s thigh and Shige’s breath caught in his throat at the sultry look Yamashita gave him.
“Why are you so fucking pretty?” he half-whispered.
Yamashita twisted Shige’s hand over the knob and pushed him into the room. “So I could get you into bed with me, of course.” He smirked at Shige and shoved the door shut with his foot, smoothly engaging the lock before turning back to him. Yamashita fisted his hands in Shige’s t-shirt and shoved him further into the room. He pulled Shige up short and leaned forward to claim his lips, sucking the boy’s lower lip between his own and sliding his tongue along it slowly.
Shige swore when Yamashita backed him into the nightstand and he heard the shhh of skidding papers and soft foofs as they hit the ground. “Urgh. I spent forever getting those in order.”
Yamashita laughed at him. “Should I leave, then, and let you reorganize them?” He let go of Shige and took a step back only to have Shige immediately grab him by the waistband and yank him in. He laughed and backed Shige into the direction of the bed and dropped them both onto it. They teased each other out of their clothes, pressing kisses against feverish skin and writhing against well-placed touches. Shige found himself spread out under Yamashita’s gaze and his breath caught at the look in Yamashita’s eyes - like he wanted to eat him and make love to him slowly all rolled into one. Then the man leaned over the bed to grab his pants and fish a tube out of the pocket and drop them on the edge of the bed.
Why Yamashita had lube in his pocket Shige didn’t think to wonder. And why would he when he was trailing slick fingers down his perineum to rub against the puckered entrance before slowly slipping a finger in. By the time Yamashita got up to three, Shige was ready to sob against the blissful pressure of fingers against his prostate. When Yamashita said his name though, “Kato” low and dark, he swam enough toward sanity to understand what the man was asking.
“Can I?”
As though he would say no. “Yes.” And then he was whimpering at the feeling of being open and unfilled as Yamashita withdrew to fumble again with his pants, one-handed this time, to draw out a condom.
“… Were you planning on fucking me tonight?” he asked with a smirk. Yamashita’s eyes darkened at the dirty word.
“No,” he said, and Shige’s face turned uncertain. “But maybe I was hoping.” And he tossed the condom onto the younger man’s chest.
Shige wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be reward or punishment when Yamashita pressed two fingers back in and fingered him roughly while he tried to open the condom, distracted fingers taking three times as long to accomplish the task. It didn’t matter really, he decided by the time he finally tore it open and sat up to slip it over Yamashita’s erection.
The older man’s fingers slipped around the back of Shige’s neck pulling him into a bruising kiss before flipping them so that Shige was straddling him.
Shige’s lips curled up. “Like this?” he asked.
Yamashita stared at him, heavy-lidded and grabbed Shige’s hips, pushing up until Shige positioned himself over Yamashita. Shige pressed one hand against Yamashita’s chest, gripping the man’s cock in his other hand and slowly impaling himself, his head falling back and a moan spilling out of his mouth.
Shige brought his hand up to join the other on Yamashita’s chest as he slowly pushed himself up and down, Yamashita’s hands a bare guiding pressure that grew tighter with every moment of the aching build-up. He kept his eyes trained on his tutor, watched the blush rise to his face as he bit his lip, trying to keep his pleasure in. The man’s grip on his hips was like iron as muffled groans slipped past his lips and he pushed and pulled the younger man up and down faster and faster. Shige was hard pressed to stay silent.
Finally, Shige’s thighs burning and trembling against the excessive speed, he gasped out, “I can’t. I can’t. Please, Yamashita, please,” almost sobbing as he ground to a near stop. Yamashita groaned and flipped them faster than Shige could blink and he found himself on his hands and elbows, fisting his pillow and trying to breathe against the feeling of Yamashita pounding into him. His moaning was constant and muffled and he uncurled one of his fists just long enough to wrap it around his own erection and pull erratically at it. He felt the heat start at his toes, curling them like paper in a fire and working all the way up until he cried out as he spilled himself over his sheets.
“Fuck, Kato,” Yamashita ground out from between clenched teeth as Shige tightened around him and he pounded through the resistance until he came, hot and hard, inside him.
“Fuck,” he said again as he pulled out and removed the condom, tossing it blindly toward the trash can and collapsing next to Shige.
Shige just panted for a few minutes, collapsing flat against the bed, before he caught his breath. He moved slightly, then, “Gross.” He made a face and Yamashita laughed at him and tugged him over to nestle against his neck.
“So,” he said after a while, “you do this with all of your students?” He was only half-seriously asking.
Yamashita replied with closed eyes and a smile. “Only the hot ones.”
Shige snorted.
After a few minutes, he watched Yamashita languidly move out of the bed to pick his jeans off the floor and rummage through the pockets. He admired the lean muscles working under the skin and the limited view granted by fluorescent lamplight through the windows. Yamashita came up with a pack from which he removed a single cigarette and lit it, carefully covering the flame (Shige noted this with curiosity because there was no breeze) and making the end blaze with an inhale.
“Not s’posed to smoke in here,” he mumbled, hands clasped behind his head on the pillow.
Yamashita just walked to the edge of the bed and sank down next to Shige, one hand on his knee and inhaled deeply, watching Shige watch him. Shige removed one hand from behind his head to poke Yamashita and he almost choked on his breath exhaling his mouthful of smoke in Shige’s face.
Shige sputtered, coughed, and sat up, indignant at Yamashita’s choked laughter.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” he laughed, smoothing his free hand down Shige’s chest. “It tickled.”
Shige snatched the cigarette from Yamashita’s lips and took a long drag, holding it in, cigarette dangling precariously between his fingers. Yamashita prodded him, half-smile on his lips, and he slowly turned to face Yamashita, but before he could breathe out the man’s lips were on his, robbing him of his exhalation as he took the cigarette back and placed it between smiling lips. This thing he had for Yamashita… it was feeling less like a crazy obsession and more like affection.
~~~
He’d noticed Tatsuro watching him lately, eyes carefully blank, and he wished he knew why. It was uncomfortable, and it made him hyper-aware of all the small touches he and Yamashita shared during the day.
One day she stood next to him in line in the cafeteria and whispered. “I’m not blind.”
“What?” He almost dropped his tray.
“I’m not blind, I said. You’re stupidly obvious.”
He felt his face heating up as he stared resolutely ahead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb.” She paused and then, “You’re not the only one,” she said petulantly.
She left it alone after that but he was shaken. Not the only one, what? The only one interested in Yamashita? The only one sleeping with him? He started doing some watching of his own, despite his decision not to try to fix something that wasn’t broken. But, as he noticed the shared looks between Yamashita and Tatsuro, his hand lingering at the small of her back just a moment too long, whispered conversations, he wondered if something wasn’t actually broken as his heart did a traitorous wrenching.
Their relationship, he found, was more and more complicated every day. The looks Yamashita gave him weren’t always just sexy. There was genuine care and concern written across his features. They shared private jokes and held hands when they cuddled after sex. That didn’t seem like just a passing thing to him and, though he could tell Yamashita tried to keep his distance in fits and starts, he also kept slipping.
Shige struggled to focus on his work, taking his moments with Yamashita when and where he could and desperately telling himself he was not in love. But when he found Tatsuro giving Yamashita a heated look and secret smile in the hallway outside her room, he felt a crack in his chest.
That night, as soon as Yamashita stepped into his room for their study session and shut the door behind him, Shige stood to face him.
“Are you sleeping with Tatsuro?” he blurted out. That wasn’t quite how he’d planned on broaching the subject. He felt the blush rising to his cheeks and bit his lip.
Yamashita stared at him. “Does it matter?” he asked slowly.
Shige knew he shouldn’t say it, knew it, but he had to. “Yes.”
It was like a shield had come down behind Yamashita’s eyes and a frown tugged at his lips as he set his jaw. “Kato. I told you not to complicate this. I could lose my job over it.”
“You’re right,” he said, relaxing fists he hadn’t realized he’d clenched. “You’re right, of course.” Yamashita reached out but Shige took a step back. He felt like the girl of every teenage drama, desperately clinging, and hated himself for it. “I can’t not complicate it, Yamashita,” he said, shaking his head. He took a deep breath. “I can’t. So let’s just … stop.” He’d never seen the man so surprised. “I like you. I can’t help it. And if you don’t want more than just a casual thing, then let’s just stop.” His heart was beating so hard, so fast. He felt faint.
Yamashita shook his head and stepped back. “Fine.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll bring the instructor change request form by tomorrow.”
Shige shook his head again. “I can be adult about this if you can. It’ll look suspicious, me changing now. I know people have noticed how well we get along.”
Yamashita frowned at him.
“And you’re damn good at what you do. It’s fine and … I don’t want you to lose anything.” He turned and walked back to his desk, taking a seat and turning his laptop on. “Good night,” he said, without looking at him, and waited until he heard the door open then close before he started crying.
Two tense weeks later, Yamashita had tentatively laid a hand on Shige’s arm and Shige had frozen. He had finally snatched his arm away and dropped his hand into his lap, all without even looking up from his textbook.
~~~
It was hard, like any break-up is. But beyond that, Shige felt like amidst this personal drama he’d lost his focus. What was important? What was he fighting so hard for? A feeling he could only half-remember? A color? It felt like the ground had been pulled out from under him and he had nothing to stand on. It was with this feeling that he entered into the second quartermester. From a purely physical standpoint, Shige had to admit that he’d picked a poor time to confess and be rejected. The second quartermester introduced them to the perils of multi-weather flight. They flew through rain, snow, wind, hail; if you cursed any kind of weather, they simulated their way through it. It was grueling and physically intense and Shige was dying for physical comfort. So much so that the next time Koyama came to see him, he pulled the man into his bed and cuddled the shit out of him.
“Not that I don’t love you, Shige, but … what the hell?”
“Just shut up and hold me.”
Koyama snorted and wrapped long arms around his best friend, leaning his cheek against the top of Shige’s head. Shige just started babbling - about the “break-up,” the stress, the lack of sex, the lack of any physical comfort.
“I see. Well. I don’t mind, I suppose, if it’s Shige.” And he rubbed Shige’s shoulder gently. “But I’m not having sex with you,” he admonished. It was Shige’s turn to snort. “And could we at least untangle for long enough to eat? I promise I’ll let you sit next to me and play footsie.”
“You suck,” he replied, but he already felt a lot better.
~~~
If he’d thought the second quartermester was bad, the third was worse. Emergency training. There was the all-weather flight but on top of it, they were faced with surprise mechanical malfunctions, system failures, emergency landings and even hijacking. Shige could feel his nerves fraying around the edges and he began to have nightmares.
He would find Yamashita watching him, sometimes, with emotionless eyes, and wonder what the man was thinking. Their study sessions were excruciatingly formal and they were careful not to touch each other. But Shige was right, Yamashita was good at what he did - he was a great teacher. So they dealt with the inconvenience and moved along. He was falling apart in front of the man’s eyes but Yamashita was clearly lost as to how to help him beyond making sure he was eating all right, and Shige hesitated to tell him anything else that was going on. It was an imposition to both of them, this emotional barrier, and Shige sometimes thought he would catch a flicker of hurt or concern in Yamashita’s eyes before it was deadened into plain curiosity again. He tried not to think about it.
Even Yamada seemed worried about him and brought him his mother’s homemade cookies in offering. “You okay, Kato?” he asked, slipping the plate and two cups of coffee onto the lounge table and taking a seat next to him.
He smiled wanly at his classmate. He couldn’t even be jealous of Yamada’s ridiculous ability to handle everything with unending grace. “I’m fine. I appreciate it though.” They studied side-by-side for hours in surprisingly comfortable silence.
Tatsuro’s reaction was completely opposite. She actually seemed angry at him for some reason.
“What did you do to him?” she whispered at him where he studied in the lounge.
“I didn’t do anything to him.” He stared at his notes.
“I’ve never seen anyone so morose. If he had a dog, I’d swear you kicked it.”
“What?” Shige looked up, surprised.
Tatsuro picked glumly at her sweater. “He’s no fun now. He won’t even joke around.”
Shige shrugged. “Maybe he’s in a bad mood. It’s got nothing to do with me.”
He could feel her looking at him, weighing his words, before leaving without a word.
Shige didn’t know what to think of it, so he just didn’t.
After nights without sleep, the worst of the quartermester came early one morning when he dreamt about captaining a hijacked plane. The masked hijackers dragged a hostage up to the cabin door and banged on it. He had refused to open it before. But then he heard Koyama’s voice, thin, strained, and shaking as he begged Shige to help him, to save him, to please open the door or they were going to kill him - they had a knife to his neck. He had run to the cabin door, then, and thrown it open in time to watch the knife draw a thin red line across Koyama’s throat and he’d woken up sobbing and couldn’t stop the shuddering. He’d woken up Koyama with a frantic phone call, babbling, to let the man quiet his sobs into hiccups with sleepy, comforting words until, exhausted, he dropped off again.
Koyama was there a few hours later, knocking loudly, and Shige dragged himself out of bed wearily to unlock the door. He practically fell into the room, straightening just in time to catch the exhausted Shige in his arms and hug him tightly. “Shige,” he said, stroking his hands through Shige’s hair and rubbing his back, “Shige, what’s wrong?”
Shige was so irrationally relieved that he clutched at Koyama’s shirt and started bawling, fat, hot tears rolling down his cheeks to soak Koyama’s neck. “The dream, Koyama … and you were dead … they killed you. I couldn’t do anything. And it’s so stupid. You wouldn’t have been on the plane. I’ll never even ever get hijacked. What’s wrong with me?”
All Koyama could do was murmur comforting words and wait for the tears to subside. When they did, he sat the boy down and kneeled in front of him, worry written over every inch of his body. “Shige. You need help, okay? You can’t keep this up alone and I’m not enough for you. They have counselors here, right? Go see one. You’ve come too far to give up right now because you’re too stubborn to ask for help.”
Shige nodded weakly.
Koyama frowned at him. “Promise me, Shige.”
“I promise. I will. You’re right. I … I’m sorry I woke you up,” he went on, chagrined. “You have class today, don’t you?”
Koyama waved his hand carelessly. “Doesn’t matter.”
Shige gave Koyama a watery smile and lurched out of his seat to hug the man again.
~~~
Koyama had stayed with Shige until he had to shoo the man away using breakfast as an excuse. He felt tired still, though a little less frazzled. When he actually fell asleep in class that day, though, he knew he was in trouble. Yamashita came to his room about an hour after, sat on his bed, and looked at him intently.
“I’m sorry,” Shige blurted out. “I know falling asleep in class is inexcusable. I … I’ll try harder.”
Yamashita blinked at him. “What? You fell asleep in class?”
“You’re not here about that?”
“Ummm,” Yamapi hesitated and scratched the back of his neck. “Actually, Koyama-san ran into me in the hallway earlier and said that I should come talk to you. He wouldn’t give me any details though. What’s going on? You’ve been pretty out of it, lately.”
“Nothing,” he replied, sinking into his chair. “I mean. Nothing, really. I just. I’m having nightmares from all these damn emergency situations.” He rubbed his face. “Can’t sleep.”
“We can get you some sleeping pills, you know. You should have said something earlier,” he said wearily.
“Yeah,” Shige muttered thickly. “Yeah.” He kicked his feet against the floor. “My nerves are shot.”
Yamashita nodded. “I know. Your reaction times are either really delayed or you’re over-anticipating in the simulator.” They sat silently for a minute. “Is everything ok, other than that? … Your friend’s been around a lot.”
Shige looked up at that to see Yamashita staring blankly at his feet. “He’s a good friend. He’s busy with school but still takes time for me.”
Yamashita nodded and stood. “All right.” Then again, “All right. I’ll bring the meds around later.” He left without looking at him.
He attended classes in a haze, dutifully taking notes but not processing anything. He pretended to a mockery of study for a few hours until, around eight, he let Yamashita in again. The man handed him a bottle and Shige stared at it; rolled it between his hands and listened to the contents rattle around. “I hate taking pills,” he said.
“Kato,” Yamashita said, abrupt.
“Hmmm?” He looked up.
Yamashita suddenly looked vulnerable and years younger than usual. “Maybe,” he said, and licked his lips, “maybe I want to complicate things.” And he stepped forward and wrapped his fingers around Shige’s arm and Shige couldn’t force himself to look away.
“I don’t need a pity-fuck,” he spat, voice low and gravelly, and Yamashita flinched.
“It’s not pity. It’s not.” His grip tightened. “And it’s not about sex, either. It’s been so hard, watching you break down and knowing I couldn’t even touch you, that me touching you just made it worse. I swear it. I just. I just want to be here with you. As your friend if nothing else. Let me?”
Shige gently pulled his arm away and sat at his desk. “I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair. “I’m not even in the right frame of mind for this conversation. I don’t know what I want.”
Yamapi picked nervously at his jacket sleeve and moved next to Shige to lean against his desk. “Ok. Can we just … start over? Not pretend this never happened, just … I want you to be ok with me again. I want to be able to touch you normally without you flinching. I want to be able to do my job again where you’re concerned. I feel like I’ve endangered your graduation with my selfishness.” Shige tried to interject but Yamashita rolled over his words. “And the first thing I’ve done as your instructor,” he paused and looked at Shige with soft eyes, “as your friend, is set up a session with the counselor tomorrow after your first class.”
Shige’s jaw dropped.
Yamashita had the grace to look sheepish. “Koyama-san said you’d promised.”
He couldn’t help a watery smile at that.
Yamashita said good night, making his way to the door. But he stopped with his hand on the knob and looked back and said quietly, “I never did anything with her. …Just so you know.” He left without waiting for a response and Shige was grateful because he didn’t know what to say even if he did feel a little lighter.
His counseling sessions over the next few weeks were more of a help than he’d imagined they would be. He’d gone into them skeptical, fulfilling a promise and nothing more. But as he talked, as the counselor drew things out of him, he slowly found his life coming back into focus. He rediscovered his youthful dream for flight, carefully tied the shreds of his study habits back together, came to accept his feelings of helplessness and frustration involved in the potential hazards of flight that he, amazingly, hadn’t realized were the cause of his nightmares. It all seemed so obvious when he just stopped. Stopped and looked at the minutiae of his everyday life and what it all added up to.
At the same time, Yamashita was courting Shige. Shige was invited to poker games and random dinners with Yamashita’s friends (who were disturbingly nice at first… he actually felt more at ease when Nishikido-san started to verbally abuse him again), taken on day trips outside the city when he felt comfortable enough with his studies to take time away. But more important were the nights they spent together just sitting at the window in the lounge speaking in hushed voices about nothing in particular. Tatsuro stopped glaring at him and Yamada seemed pleased that Shige was so much less stressed.
The slow courting did what the flurry of passion could not - it evaporated the fog obscuring each to the other and laid them bare. Shige was allowed to see the private workings of Yamashita’s heart and thoughts through actions Yamashita had previously only let out in moments of weakness. He was forever touching Shige now. Not the suggestive stroking of an inner wrist or promising brush of hips, but strong, sure, steady fingers resting along Shige’s thigh or the comforting press of shoulders, telling Shige more than anything else that Yamashita wanted him. He decided that he was ready when Yamashita was.
One night, as Yamashita walked him back to his room after one of their late night conversations in the lounge, Shige laughed.
Yamashita looked at him curiously.
“Nothing. I just feel like a girl. That’s all.”
Yamashita hummed thoughtfully and, when they got to Shige’s room, he made a big show of gently pushing Shige out of the way to unlock his door and open it for him, ushering the younger man in. Shige giggled quietly, emptying the contents of his pockets onto his desk and sitting down.
Yamashita picked nervously at his jacket sleeve and moved next to Shige to lean against his desk. “Shige,” he said shyly. “I know I was an ass. I know it and I’m sorry.” He turned to face Shige and Shige could see the regret in his eyes so he shook his head.
“It’s ok,” he said. And he meant it.
“I liked the way we were together. I like you. And me. Together. We can try, right?” He reached his hand out slowly, giving Shige enough time to move if he wanted, but he didn’t. He ran the backs of his fingers lightly down Shige’s cheek and he leaned into it, closing his eyes. And when Yamashita’s lips pressed softly against his own, he didn’t pull back.
~~~
A week before the end of the third quartermester, Koyama invoked best friend rights.
“Shige! I haven’t seen you in three weeks! We’re having dinner tomorrow night.”
Shige stared at his phone before putting it back up to his ear. “You act like we don’t talk every night.”
“Not the same,” he huffed. “Digital Shige isn’t nearly the same quality as the real thing.”
“Fine, fine.”
“I’ll meet you in your lounge at six.” He paused. “And bring Yamashita. You’ve been spending so much time with his friends, it’s only fair that he spend time with me.”
Yamashita didn’t seem too upset about the arrangement. “Mmmmm… so gooood,” Yamashita moaned, mouth full of Koyama’s mother’s food.
Koyama smiled so hard his eyes almost disappeared and Shige rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop laughing.
For the most part, Yamashita seemed content to sit back and watch Koyama and Shige talk, eating slowly and laughing often.
“You’re quiet,” Koyama finally said unabashedly.
Yamashita just grinned. “I’m wondering if you guys actually talk faster with every uninterrupted minute or if it’s just me.”
“…We get that a lot,” he replied.
“I believe it.”
Shige kicked Yamashita’s foot under the table and got a beautiful smile in return.
Koyama kept asking all kinds of questions about flying and what Shige would have to do when he had his first flight the next week and if there was anything Koyama could do to help.
Shige was amazed at Yamashita’s patience and took to stuffing food into Koyama’s mouth to shut him up when he was getting particularly obnoxious which Yamashita found highly amusing and the way he scrunched up his nose when he laughed at them always distracted Shige enough that he missed the chance to foil Koyama’s retaliation attempts. But overall, he thought it had gone pretty well. Koyama and Yamashita seemed to get along well enough and that thought settled, warm, in his heart.
Shige smiled fondly after Yamashita when the man took his leave of them, resting his cheek in his hand.
Koyama snorted. “You are totally gone.”
“Shut up.” But he couldn’t deny it.
“But he is pretty cute,” Koyama said slyly and had to duck a napkin. His next comment was half-obscured by giggles, but Shige heard ‘mile-high club’ and pounced him anyway. Eventually they calmed down and relaxed back in their chairs.
“I’m glad,” Koyama said.
“For what?”
“That Yamashita is the one going up with you. It’s special isn’t it?”
A contented smile spread over Shige’s face.
~~~
Shige sat, elbows resting on his thighs, hands steepled against his lips, and his eyes closed. Every fiber of his being was tense and focused. Today, first day of the last quartermester, was the day he would realize his dream and finally fly himself up past the dense clouds to rise into the sunlight. Would it be the same? Would it be every bit as bright and beautiful and involve a clenching in his chest that refused to let go? He’d been building up to this moment for a decade, had he imagined it all? Put it up on a pedestal? He felt a lump form in his throat, panic rising and -
“Shige,” his name said in that soothing voice pulled him from his terrifying inner monologue and he looked up at Yamashita. The man had his hand held out to him with a smile on his face. “Today’s the day. Let’s go.”
They settled into the cockpit of the small plane and belted in. Shige unconsciously ran through the checklist, drilled in by intense training, and, before he knew it, he was taxiing down the runaway, feeling strangely calm. The day was a little windy and the plane rocked a bit in the current as the wheels left the asphalt. Takeoff wasn’t smooth, though his actions were, and Yamashita murmured words of praise and encouragement. Halfway through the cloud cover, they hit a particularly rough patch of turbulence but it served only to enhance the anticipation which coiled tightly in his stomach.
He rode out the turbulence and rose into the brilliance of the sun, the blue so vibrant it caught his breath. He felt Yamashita’s hand on his knee and he turned his head to smile at him, tears glistening at the edges of both their eyes. It was exactly as he’d imagined, he thought as he turned to look ahead again, only better because of the man beside him smiling too, making sure he’d never get lost in the details again.
Pairing: Shige/Yamapi
Rating: NC-17
He sat waiting for the general meeting to begin, his eyes scanning the room for familiar faces. Both Yamada and Tatsuro were there and he nodded to each of them. He’d watched the twelve new first-years stream out of the room and smiled at the memory of his own meeting last year. There were only seven students left of the original twelve. His eyes were drawn to the doors and he saw Yamashita slip in to stand against the wall, followed by the speaker. He wondered idly, as he half-listened to the speaker, if Yamashita would be getting any new students this year. Probably only one or two since all three of his first-years had stayed. He felt a sudden streak of jealousy and, embarrassed, focused on the speaker.
He didn’t see Yamashita for the rest of the day until their group meeting with him. He slid into the free seat next to Shige at the table.
“Congratulations,” Yamashita said softly and with a proud smile. “Ours is the only team that didn’t lose a single student. Seriously, though. You’ve all been amazing the last year and I hope you continue with the same high spirit and willpower this year.”
Yamada was grinning and nodding his head hard enough Shige was shocked his neck hadn’t snapped and Tatsuro blushed shyly. He himself nodded once and set his lips.
“Do you have any more students this year, Yamashita-san?” Tatsuro asked quietly and Shige felt an overwhelming urge to kiss her. Until he realized that maybe she was asking for the same reason he wanted to know.
Yamashita was shaking his head. “Not this year. Just you three. That means you get as much of me as you all want,” he said throwing his arms wide and laughing. Shige tried to listen to what Yamashita said as he passed out their schedules for the next quartermaster and updated them on new rules and regulations. The speaker in the general meeting had covered them all, but it was better to be safe than sorry.
Yamashita left first and Shige stayed in his seat a few minutes after the other two had left, purposely not thinking about anything at all, before walking slowly to his room. He fiddled on his laptop for a while, read a book, did some pushups and finally just went out into the darkened hallway, quietly padding to the bathroom. When he returned to his room, Yamashita was standing outside it, leaning casually against the wall, hands in his pockets, as he watched him approach. Shige stopped a couple meters away. “Hi.”
“Hi,” Yamashita said with a smile and stood up. Then he very slowly reached out his hand, Shige watched it, strangely fascinated, and placed it on Shige’s arm.
Shige, startled, looked up at Yamashita. The smile was still there but it had turned a little shy. In a fog, he turned and slowly opened his door, gripping Yamashita’s hand and pulling him in after. Yamashita had never initiated, had never even let Shige touch him intimately beyond kissing, and he found himself already breathing hard as he turned around and pushed Yamashita against the door and leaned into him, covering his mouth with his own.
Their movements were slow - hands dragged up sides and slid under shirts, tongues slipping along bared skin. Even when Yamashita reached for the button of Shige’s pants, his motions were unhurried. Shige tested the waters by slipping his fingers under Yamashita’s waistband and dragging them along the skin. Taking the man’s slight press forward of his hips as approval, he snapped the button of his jeans and palmed him through his boxers, his own erection getting impossibly harder at the low moan he let out. He tugged his boxers down and then Yamashita’s, pressing close and grasping both of their arousals in his hand. He kept his pace slow as long as he could, reveling in the feel of Yamashita panting quietly and gripping his shoulders, but he couldn’t last long like that. It felt too good and it had been too long. He sped up his motions until the slipslide was just this side of painful and Yamashita’s head dropped to his shoulder with an “Oh god” before he was coming. The warm slickness was so smooth and startlingly different against his shaft that Shige followed right after, struggling to stay upright. They stood there panting, Yamashita taking Shige’s weight and the door taking both of theirs, until Yamashita squirmed and Shige stepped away to grab some tissues.
They sat quietly next to each other on the bed, all cleaned up and tucked away. “Miss me?” Shige asked, smiling.
Yamashita just smiled at the floor and bumped Shige’s shoulder with his own.
~~~
There were soft presses of fingers against wrists as they passed in the halls, shy smiles over homework in the lounge, muffled moans in the dark of night, and the tenuous drawing together of two people sharing a secret.
“What’s it like up there?” he asked Yamashita one day over lunch. Every weekend he took one of his students out for lunch in the city and today was Shige’s turn.
Yamashita looked up, mouth full of rice, and covered his mouth, chewing furiously.
“Sorry,” Shige laughed, taking a bite of his own food.
Once he’d finished chewing, he said softly, “It’s beautiful… It feels like home.”
And Shige almost choked on his food at the sheer desire in his voice. “Are… are you going to keep instructing for long?” he asked shyly. They never talked about why Yamashita had given up flying to teach.
“I don’t know. I signed a two-year contract with the school and they’d like me to sign another one. I might.”
Shige didn’t press him. He could always feel that it was a touchy subject with Yamashita whenever the subject even thought about coming up either between them or anyone else. But when they left the restaurant Yamashita walked closely so that their arms pressed together in the silence between them.
~~~
Only one more year, he caught himself thinking one night, and then we don’t have to hide it anymore. And a panic rose in him at the thought. He squeezed his eyes shut, hastily thinking at himself, Don’t complicate this, Kato, Don’tcomplicatethis. But what scared him more was losing Yamashita when he inevitably did so.
Yamashita certainly didn’t help when he whisked Kato away one Saturday to go to an abandoned hangar an hour outside the city. Vines inched themselves up the dingy white walls, broken windows glinted in the dull light and the grass was tall enough that it felt like wading as they worked their way over to stand on the cracked runway. Yamashita had been silent the whole trip and the atmosphere was … not uncomfortable, but edging on uncertainty so he kept quiet too. Even now, when Yamashita twined their fingers together and stood looking off into the distance.
After what felt like forever, he spoke. “This was my grandfather’s.”
Shige turned to look curiously at him. “Your grandfather was a pilot?” he asked with a small smile.
Yamashita bit his lip and bobbed his head, still looking forward. “He loved flying. Every other story he told was about it. He was so proud the day I made it into the flight academy. My father was afraid of heights,” he said with a chuckle, “so I think my grandfather had put all his hope in me.”
Shige squeezed Yamashita’s fingers encouragingly. “And you became a pilot,” he said, smiling.
“Hmmm.”
Shige studied Yamashita’s profile carefully, the small frown and the beginnings of wetness in the corner of his eye.
“He died just over a year ago,” Yamashita blurted out.
“I. I’m sorry. You…” He did some quick thinking. “That’s why you became a second instructor?”
Yamashita nodded as he absently worried his bottom lip between his teeth. “I was too caught up in the details…” he trailed off and finally turned to look at Shige, tears swimming in his eyes and threatening to spill over.
Shige impulsively tugged Yamashita to him, dropping his hand to wrap his arms around the man’s shoulders. And then Yamashita’s hands came up to fist themselves in the back of Shige’s shirt and he bit back a sob.
“Hey. Hey,” he smoothed his hands across Yamashita’s back. “It’s okay.” Then tears were soaking his collar and his shirt was stretched too tight across his chest. He rested his cheek against Yamashita’s hair and made soothing noises in the back of his throat and let the man cry himself out.
An hour later they sat leaning against the dilapidated building, Yamashita tucked against his side, Shige’s arm slung around his shoulders and Yamashita’s fingers drawing patterns on Shige’s thigh.
“Thank you.” The words were quiet, barely there. “Today’s his birthday,” he said, louder.
Nodding his head, he squeezed Yamashita’s shoulder and turned to kiss the top of his head. Yamashita didn’t want to let go and they held hands until their train came into Tokyo. That night Shige slept fitfully; dreams of holding Yamashita up against a raging tide and fighting to keep himself upright playing on repeat the whole time.
~~~
“Kato-kun is so cool,” Yamashita breathed, a small smile on his lips and heat behind his eyes.
Shige’s head whipped around to see if anyone was watching because the look on Yamashita’s face couldn’t be mistaken for anything but predatory. No one was. He walked away slowly, not even looking at Yamashita, to tap Yamada on the shoulder, gently touching his own forehead with his other hand. “Hey. I’m not feeling too well. I’m going to head to bed, ok? Happy birthday, man.”
Yamada seemed genuinely concerned and Shige felt sort of guilty for lying; but not enough to stop. He knew Yamashita would be watching him with worried eyes and going to ask Yamada what was going on. Yamada would tell him, Yamashita would frown and then say his ‘good night’s so he could “make sure Kato’s ok. You know him.” They’d exchange knowing smiles and Yamashita would stride to meet Shige outside his door in 3. 2. 1.
A hand slid over his where it was unlocking the door and Shige half-turned to look at him. Yamashita pressed close, his erection outlined against Shige’s thigh and Shige’s breath caught in his throat at the sultry look Yamashita gave him.
“Why are you so fucking pretty?” he half-whispered.
Yamashita twisted Shige’s hand over the knob and pushed him into the room. “So I could get you into bed with me, of course.” He smirked at Shige and shoved the door shut with his foot, smoothly engaging the lock before turning back to him. Yamashita fisted his hands in Shige’s t-shirt and shoved him further into the room. He pulled Shige up short and leaned forward to claim his lips, sucking the boy’s lower lip between his own and sliding his tongue along it slowly.
Shige swore when Yamashita backed him into the nightstand and he heard the shhh of skidding papers and soft foofs as they hit the ground. “Urgh. I spent forever getting those in order.”
Yamashita laughed at him. “Should I leave, then, and let you reorganize them?” He let go of Shige and took a step back only to have Shige immediately grab him by the waistband and yank him in. He laughed and backed Shige into the direction of the bed and dropped them both onto it. They teased each other out of their clothes, pressing kisses against feverish skin and writhing against well-placed touches. Shige found himself spread out under Yamashita’s gaze and his breath caught at the look in Yamashita’s eyes - like he wanted to eat him and make love to him slowly all rolled into one. Then the man leaned over the bed to grab his pants and fish a tube out of the pocket and drop them on the edge of the bed.
Why Yamashita had lube in his pocket Shige didn’t think to wonder. And why would he when he was trailing slick fingers down his perineum to rub against the puckered entrance before slowly slipping a finger in. By the time Yamashita got up to three, Shige was ready to sob against the blissful pressure of fingers against his prostate. When Yamashita said his name though, “Kato” low and dark, he swam enough toward sanity to understand what the man was asking.
“Can I?”
As though he would say no. “Yes.” And then he was whimpering at the feeling of being open and unfilled as Yamashita withdrew to fumble again with his pants, one-handed this time, to draw out a condom.
“… Were you planning on fucking me tonight?” he asked with a smirk. Yamashita’s eyes darkened at the dirty word.
“No,” he said, and Shige’s face turned uncertain. “But maybe I was hoping.” And he tossed the condom onto the younger man’s chest.
Shige wasn’t sure if it was supposed to be reward or punishment when Yamashita pressed two fingers back in and fingered him roughly while he tried to open the condom, distracted fingers taking three times as long to accomplish the task. It didn’t matter really, he decided by the time he finally tore it open and sat up to slip it over Yamashita’s erection.
The older man’s fingers slipped around the back of Shige’s neck pulling him into a bruising kiss before flipping them so that Shige was straddling him.
Shige’s lips curled up. “Like this?” he asked.
Yamashita stared at him, heavy-lidded and grabbed Shige’s hips, pushing up until Shige positioned himself over Yamashita. Shige pressed one hand against Yamashita’s chest, gripping the man’s cock in his other hand and slowly impaling himself, his head falling back and a moan spilling out of his mouth.
Shige brought his hand up to join the other on Yamashita’s chest as he slowly pushed himself up and down, Yamashita’s hands a bare guiding pressure that grew tighter with every moment of the aching build-up. He kept his eyes trained on his tutor, watched the blush rise to his face as he bit his lip, trying to keep his pleasure in. The man’s grip on his hips was like iron as muffled groans slipped past his lips and he pushed and pulled the younger man up and down faster and faster. Shige was hard pressed to stay silent.
Finally, Shige’s thighs burning and trembling against the excessive speed, he gasped out, “I can’t. I can’t. Please, Yamashita, please,” almost sobbing as he ground to a near stop. Yamashita groaned and flipped them faster than Shige could blink and he found himself on his hands and elbows, fisting his pillow and trying to breathe against the feeling of Yamashita pounding into him. His moaning was constant and muffled and he uncurled one of his fists just long enough to wrap it around his own erection and pull erratically at it. He felt the heat start at his toes, curling them like paper in a fire and working all the way up until he cried out as he spilled himself over his sheets.
“Fuck, Kato,” Yamashita ground out from between clenched teeth as Shige tightened around him and he pounded through the resistance until he came, hot and hard, inside him.
“Fuck,” he said again as he pulled out and removed the condom, tossing it blindly toward the trash can and collapsing next to Shige.
Shige just panted for a few minutes, collapsing flat against the bed, before he caught his breath. He moved slightly, then, “Gross.” He made a face and Yamashita laughed at him and tugged him over to nestle against his neck.
“So,” he said after a while, “you do this with all of your students?” He was only half-seriously asking.
Yamashita replied with closed eyes and a smile. “Only the hot ones.”
Shige snorted.
After a few minutes, he watched Yamashita languidly move out of the bed to pick his jeans off the floor and rummage through the pockets. He admired the lean muscles working under the skin and the limited view granted by fluorescent lamplight through the windows. Yamashita came up with a pack from which he removed a single cigarette and lit it, carefully covering the flame (Shige noted this with curiosity because there was no breeze) and making the end blaze with an inhale.
“Not s’posed to smoke in here,” he mumbled, hands clasped behind his head on the pillow.
Yamashita just walked to the edge of the bed and sank down next to Shige, one hand on his knee and inhaled deeply, watching Shige watch him. Shige removed one hand from behind his head to poke Yamashita and he almost choked on his breath exhaling his mouthful of smoke in Shige’s face.
Shige sputtered, coughed, and sat up, indignant at Yamashita’s choked laughter.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry,” he laughed, smoothing his free hand down Shige’s chest. “It tickled.”
Shige snatched the cigarette from Yamashita’s lips and took a long drag, holding it in, cigarette dangling precariously between his fingers. Yamashita prodded him, half-smile on his lips, and he slowly turned to face Yamashita, but before he could breathe out the man’s lips were on his, robbing him of his exhalation as he took the cigarette back and placed it between smiling lips. This thing he had for Yamashita… it was feeling less like a crazy obsession and more like affection.
~~~
He’d noticed Tatsuro watching him lately, eyes carefully blank, and he wished he knew why. It was uncomfortable, and it made him hyper-aware of all the small touches he and Yamashita shared during the day.
One day she stood next to him in line in the cafeteria and whispered. “I’m not blind.”
“What?” He almost dropped his tray.
“I’m not blind, I said. You’re stupidly obvious.”
He felt his face heating up as he stared resolutely ahead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t play dumb.” She paused and then, “You’re not the only one,” she said petulantly.
She left it alone after that but he was shaken. Not the only one, what? The only one interested in Yamashita? The only one sleeping with him? He started doing some watching of his own, despite his decision not to try to fix something that wasn’t broken. But, as he noticed the shared looks between Yamashita and Tatsuro, his hand lingering at the small of her back just a moment too long, whispered conversations, he wondered if something wasn’t actually broken as his heart did a traitorous wrenching.
Their relationship, he found, was more and more complicated every day. The looks Yamashita gave him weren’t always just sexy. There was genuine care and concern written across his features. They shared private jokes and held hands when they cuddled after sex. That didn’t seem like just a passing thing to him and, though he could tell Yamashita tried to keep his distance in fits and starts, he also kept slipping.
Shige struggled to focus on his work, taking his moments with Yamashita when and where he could and desperately telling himself he was not in love. But when he found Tatsuro giving Yamashita a heated look and secret smile in the hallway outside her room, he felt a crack in his chest.
That night, as soon as Yamashita stepped into his room for their study session and shut the door behind him, Shige stood to face him.
“Are you sleeping with Tatsuro?” he blurted out. That wasn’t quite how he’d planned on broaching the subject. He felt the blush rising to his cheeks and bit his lip.
Yamashita stared at him. “Does it matter?” he asked slowly.
Shige knew he shouldn’t say it, knew it, but he had to. “Yes.”
It was like a shield had come down behind Yamashita’s eyes and a frown tugged at his lips as he set his jaw. “Kato. I told you not to complicate this. I could lose my job over it.”
“You’re right,” he said, relaxing fists he hadn’t realized he’d clenched. “You’re right, of course.” Yamashita reached out but Shige took a step back. He felt like the girl of every teenage drama, desperately clinging, and hated himself for it. “I can’t not complicate it, Yamashita,” he said, shaking his head. He took a deep breath. “I can’t. So let’s just … stop.” He’d never seen the man so surprised. “I like you. I can’t help it. And if you don’t want more than just a casual thing, then let’s just stop.” His heart was beating so hard, so fast. He felt faint.
Yamashita shook his head and stepped back. “Fine.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I’ll bring the instructor change request form by tomorrow.”
Shige shook his head again. “I can be adult about this if you can. It’ll look suspicious, me changing now. I know people have noticed how well we get along.”
Yamashita frowned at him.
“And you’re damn good at what you do. It’s fine and … I don’t want you to lose anything.” He turned and walked back to his desk, taking a seat and turning his laptop on. “Good night,” he said, without looking at him, and waited until he heard the door open then close before he started crying.
Two tense weeks later, Yamashita had tentatively laid a hand on Shige’s arm and Shige had frozen. He had finally snatched his arm away and dropped his hand into his lap, all without even looking up from his textbook.
~~~
It was hard, like any break-up is. But beyond that, Shige felt like amidst this personal drama he’d lost his focus. What was important? What was he fighting so hard for? A feeling he could only half-remember? A color? It felt like the ground had been pulled out from under him and he had nothing to stand on. It was with this feeling that he entered into the second quartermester. From a purely physical standpoint, Shige had to admit that he’d picked a poor time to confess and be rejected. The second quartermester introduced them to the perils of multi-weather flight. They flew through rain, snow, wind, hail; if you cursed any kind of weather, they simulated their way through it. It was grueling and physically intense and Shige was dying for physical comfort. So much so that the next time Koyama came to see him, he pulled the man into his bed and cuddled the shit out of him.
“Not that I don’t love you, Shige, but … what the hell?”
“Just shut up and hold me.”
Koyama snorted and wrapped long arms around his best friend, leaning his cheek against the top of Shige’s head. Shige just started babbling - about the “break-up,” the stress, the lack of sex, the lack of any physical comfort.
“I see. Well. I don’t mind, I suppose, if it’s Shige.” And he rubbed Shige’s shoulder gently. “But I’m not having sex with you,” he admonished. It was Shige’s turn to snort. “And could we at least untangle for long enough to eat? I promise I’ll let you sit next to me and play footsie.”
“You suck,” he replied, but he already felt a lot better.
~~~
If he’d thought the second quartermester was bad, the third was worse. Emergency training. There was the all-weather flight but on top of it, they were faced with surprise mechanical malfunctions, system failures, emergency landings and even hijacking. Shige could feel his nerves fraying around the edges and he began to have nightmares.
He would find Yamashita watching him, sometimes, with emotionless eyes, and wonder what the man was thinking. Their study sessions were excruciatingly formal and they were careful not to touch each other. But Shige was right, Yamashita was good at what he did - he was a great teacher. So they dealt with the inconvenience and moved along. He was falling apart in front of the man’s eyes but Yamashita was clearly lost as to how to help him beyond making sure he was eating all right, and Shige hesitated to tell him anything else that was going on. It was an imposition to both of them, this emotional barrier, and Shige sometimes thought he would catch a flicker of hurt or concern in Yamashita’s eyes before it was deadened into plain curiosity again. He tried not to think about it.
Even Yamada seemed worried about him and brought him his mother’s homemade cookies in offering. “You okay, Kato?” he asked, slipping the plate and two cups of coffee onto the lounge table and taking a seat next to him.
He smiled wanly at his classmate. He couldn’t even be jealous of Yamada’s ridiculous ability to handle everything with unending grace. “I’m fine. I appreciate it though.” They studied side-by-side for hours in surprisingly comfortable silence.
Tatsuro’s reaction was completely opposite. She actually seemed angry at him for some reason.
“What did you do to him?” she whispered at him where he studied in the lounge.
“I didn’t do anything to him.” He stared at his notes.
“I’ve never seen anyone so morose. If he had a dog, I’d swear you kicked it.”
“What?” Shige looked up, surprised.
Tatsuro picked glumly at her sweater. “He’s no fun now. He won’t even joke around.”
Shige shrugged. “Maybe he’s in a bad mood. It’s got nothing to do with me.”
He could feel her looking at him, weighing his words, before leaving without a word.
Shige didn’t know what to think of it, so he just didn’t.
After nights without sleep, the worst of the quartermester came early one morning when he dreamt about captaining a hijacked plane. The masked hijackers dragged a hostage up to the cabin door and banged on it. He had refused to open it before. But then he heard Koyama’s voice, thin, strained, and shaking as he begged Shige to help him, to save him, to please open the door or they were going to kill him - they had a knife to his neck. He had run to the cabin door, then, and thrown it open in time to watch the knife draw a thin red line across Koyama’s throat and he’d woken up sobbing and couldn’t stop the shuddering. He’d woken up Koyama with a frantic phone call, babbling, to let the man quiet his sobs into hiccups with sleepy, comforting words until, exhausted, he dropped off again.
Koyama was there a few hours later, knocking loudly, and Shige dragged himself out of bed wearily to unlock the door. He practically fell into the room, straightening just in time to catch the exhausted Shige in his arms and hug him tightly. “Shige,” he said, stroking his hands through Shige’s hair and rubbing his back, “Shige, what’s wrong?”
Shige was so irrationally relieved that he clutched at Koyama’s shirt and started bawling, fat, hot tears rolling down his cheeks to soak Koyama’s neck. “The dream, Koyama … and you were dead … they killed you. I couldn’t do anything. And it’s so stupid. You wouldn’t have been on the plane. I’ll never even ever get hijacked. What’s wrong with me?”
All Koyama could do was murmur comforting words and wait for the tears to subside. When they did, he sat the boy down and kneeled in front of him, worry written over every inch of his body. “Shige. You need help, okay? You can’t keep this up alone and I’m not enough for you. They have counselors here, right? Go see one. You’ve come too far to give up right now because you’re too stubborn to ask for help.”
Shige nodded weakly.
Koyama frowned at him. “Promise me, Shige.”
“I promise. I will. You’re right. I … I’m sorry I woke you up,” he went on, chagrined. “You have class today, don’t you?”
Koyama waved his hand carelessly. “Doesn’t matter.”
Shige gave Koyama a watery smile and lurched out of his seat to hug the man again.
~~~
Koyama had stayed with Shige until he had to shoo the man away using breakfast as an excuse. He felt tired still, though a little less frazzled. When he actually fell asleep in class that day, though, he knew he was in trouble. Yamashita came to his room about an hour after, sat on his bed, and looked at him intently.
“I’m sorry,” Shige blurted out. “I know falling asleep in class is inexcusable. I … I’ll try harder.”
Yamashita blinked at him. “What? You fell asleep in class?”
“You’re not here about that?”
“Ummm,” Yamapi hesitated and scratched the back of his neck. “Actually, Koyama-san ran into me in the hallway earlier and said that I should come talk to you. He wouldn’t give me any details though. What’s going on? You’ve been pretty out of it, lately.”
“Nothing,” he replied, sinking into his chair. “I mean. Nothing, really. I just. I’m having nightmares from all these damn emergency situations.” He rubbed his face. “Can’t sleep.”
“We can get you some sleeping pills, you know. You should have said something earlier,” he said wearily.
“Yeah,” Shige muttered thickly. “Yeah.” He kicked his feet against the floor. “My nerves are shot.”
Yamashita nodded. “I know. Your reaction times are either really delayed or you’re over-anticipating in the simulator.” They sat silently for a minute. “Is everything ok, other than that? … Your friend’s been around a lot.”
Shige looked up at that to see Yamashita staring blankly at his feet. “He’s a good friend. He’s busy with school but still takes time for me.”
Yamashita nodded and stood. “All right.” Then again, “All right. I’ll bring the meds around later.” He left without looking at him.
He attended classes in a haze, dutifully taking notes but not processing anything. He pretended to a mockery of study for a few hours until, around eight, he let Yamashita in again. The man handed him a bottle and Shige stared at it; rolled it between his hands and listened to the contents rattle around. “I hate taking pills,” he said.
“Kato,” Yamashita said, abrupt.
“Hmmm?” He looked up.
Yamashita suddenly looked vulnerable and years younger than usual. “Maybe,” he said, and licked his lips, “maybe I want to complicate things.” And he stepped forward and wrapped his fingers around Shige’s arm and Shige couldn’t force himself to look away.
“I don’t need a pity-fuck,” he spat, voice low and gravelly, and Yamashita flinched.
“It’s not pity. It’s not.” His grip tightened. “And it’s not about sex, either. It’s been so hard, watching you break down and knowing I couldn’t even touch you, that me touching you just made it worse. I swear it. I just. I just want to be here with you. As your friend if nothing else. Let me?”
Shige gently pulled his arm away and sat at his desk. “I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his tousled hair. “I’m not even in the right frame of mind for this conversation. I don’t know what I want.”
Yamapi picked nervously at his jacket sleeve and moved next to Shige to lean against his desk. “Ok. Can we just … start over? Not pretend this never happened, just … I want you to be ok with me again. I want to be able to touch you normally without you flinching. I want to be able to do my job again where you’re concerned. I feel like I’ve endangered your graduation with my selfishness.” Shige tried to interject but Yamashita rolled over his words. “And the first thing I’ve done as your instructor,” he paused and looked at Shige with soft eyes, “as your friend, is set up a session with the counselor tomorrow after your first class.”
Shige’s jaw dropped.
Yamashita had the grace to look sheepish. “Koyama-san said you’d promised.”
He couldn’t help a watery smile at that.
Yamashita said good night, making his way to the door. But he stopped with his hand on the knob and looked back and said quietly, “I never did anything with her. …Just so you know.” He left without waiting for a response and Shige was grateful because he didn’t know what to say even if he did feel a little lighter.
His counseling sessions over the next few weeks were more of a help than he’d imagined they would be. He’d gone into them skeptical, fulfilling a promise and nothing more. But as he talked, as the counselor drew things out of him, he slowly found his life coming back into focus. He rediscovered his youthful dream for flight, carefully tied the shreds of his study habits back together, came to accept his feelings of helplessness and frustration involved in the potential hazards of flight that he, amazingly, hadn’t realized were the cause of his nightmares. It all seemed so obvious when he just stopped. Stopped and looked at the minutiae of his everyday life and what it all added up to.
At the same time, Yamashita was courting Shige. Shige was invited to poker games and random dinners with Yamashita’s friends (who were disturbingly nice at first… he actually felt more at ease when Nishikido-san started to verbally abuse him again), taken on day trips outside the city when he felt comfortable enough with his studies to take time away. But more important were the nights they spent together just sitting at the window in the lounge speaking in hushed voices about nothing in particular. Tatsuro stopped glaring at him and Yamada seemed pleased that Shige was so much less stressed.
The slow courting did what the flurry of passion could not - it evaporated the fog obscuring each to the other and laid them bare. Shige was allowed to see the private workings of Yamashita’s heart and thoughts through actions Yamashita had previously only let out in moments of weakness. He was forever touching Shige now. Not the suggestive stroking of an inner wrist or promising brush of hips, but strong, sure, steady fingers resting along Shige’s thigh or the comforting press of shoulders, telling Shige more than anything else that Yamashita wanted him. He decided that he was ready when Yamashita was.
One night, as Yamashita walked him back to his room after one of their late night conversations in the lounge, Shige laughed.
Yamashita looked at him curiously.
“Nothing. I just feel like a girl. That’s all.”
Yamashita hummed thoughtfully and, when they got to Shige’s room, he made a big show of gently pushing Shige out of the way to unlock his door and open it for him, ushering the younger man in. Shige giggled quietly, emptying the contents of his pockets onto his desk and sitting down.
Yamashita picked nervously at his jacket sleeve and moved next to Shige to lean against his desk. “Shige,” he said shyly. “I know I was an ass. I know it and I’m sorry.” He turned to face Shige and Shige could see the regret in his eyes so he shook his head.
“It’s ok,” he said. And he meant it.
“I liked the way we were together. I like you. And me. Together. We can try, right?” He reached his hand out slowly, giving Shige enough time to move if he wanted, but he didn’t. He ran the backs of his fingers lightly down Shige’s cheek and he leaned into it, closing his eyes. And when Yamashita’s lips pressed softly against his own, he didn’t pull back.
~~~
A week before the end of the third quartermester, Koyama invoked best friend rights.
“Shige! I haven’t seen you in three weeks! We’re having dinner tomorrow night.”
Shige stared at his phone before putting it back up to his ear. “You act like we don’t talk every night.”
“Not the same,” he huffed. “Digital Shige isn’t nearly the same quality as the real thing.”
“Fine, fine.”
“I’ll meet you in your lounge at six.” He paused. “And bring Yamashita. You’ve been spending so much time with his friends, it’s only fair that he spend time with me.”
Yamashita didn’t seem too upset about the arrangement. “Mmmmm… so gooood,” Yamashita moaned, mouth full of Koyama’s mother’s food.
Koyama smiled so hard his eyes almost disappeared and Shige rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop laughing.
For the most part, Yamashita seemed content to sit back and watch Koyama and Shige talk, eating slowly and laughing often.
“You’re quiet,” Koyama finally said unabashedly.
Yamashita just grinned. “I’m wondering if you guys actually talk faster with every uninterrupted minute or if it’s just me.”
“…We get that a lot,” he replied.
“I believe it.”
Shige kicked Yamashita’s foot under the table and got a beautiful smile in return.
Koyama kept asking all kinds of questions about flying and what Shige would have to do when he had his first flight the next week and if there was anything Koyama could do to help.
Shige was amazed at Yamashita’s patience and took to stuffing food into Koyama’s mouth to shut him up when he was getting particularly obnoxious which Yamashita found highly amusing and the way he scrunched up his nose when he laughed at them always distracted Shige enough that he missed the chance to foil Koyama’s retaliation attempts. But overall, he thought it had gone pretty well. Koyama and Yamashita seemed to get along well enough and that thought settled, warm, in his heart.
Shige smiled fondly after Yamashita when the man took his leave of them, resting his cheek in his hand.
Koyama snorted. “You are totally gone.”
“Shut up.” But he couldn’t deny it.
“But he is pretty cute,” Koyama said slyly and had to duck a napkin. His next comment was half-obscured by giggles, but Shige heard ‘mile-high club’ and pounced him anyway. Eventually they calmed down and relaxed back in their chairs.
“I’m glad,” Koyama said.
“For what?”
“That Yamashita is the one going up with you. It’s special isn’t it?”
A contented smile spread over Shige’s face.
~~~
Shige sat, elbows resting on his thighs, hands steepled against his lips, and his eyes closed. Every fiber of his being was tense and focused. Today, first day of the last quartermester, was the day he would realize his dream and finally fly himself up past the dense clouds to rise into the sunlight. Would it be the same? Would it be every bit as bright and beautiful and involve a clenching in his chest that refused to let go? He’d been building up to this moment for a decade, had he imagined it all? Put it up on a pedestal? He felt a lump form in his throat, panic rising and -
“Shige,” his name said in that soothing voice pulled him from his terrifying inner monologue and he looked up at Yamashita. The man had his hand held out to him with a smile on his face. “Today’s the day. Let’s go.”
They settled into the cockpit of the small plane and belted in. Shige unconsciously ran through the checklist, drilled in by intense training, and, before he knew it, he was taxiing down the runaway, feeling strangely calm. The day was a little windy and the plane rocked a bit in the current as the wheels left the asphalt. Takeoff wasn’t smooth, though his actions were, and Yamashita murmured words of praise and encouragement. Halfway through the cloud cover, they hit a particularly rough patch of turbulence but it served only to enhance the anticipation which coiled tightly in his stomach.
He rode out the turbulence and rose into the brilliance of the sun, the blue so vibrant it caught his breath. He felt Yamashita’s hand on his knee and he turned his head to smile at him, tears glistening at the edges of both their eyes. It was exactly as he’d imagined, he thought as he turned to look ahead again, only better because of the man beside him smiling too, making sure he’d never get lost in the details again.