[FIC/Log] Reunion Pt.2
Title: Reunion, Pt.2
Who: Iruka, Genma
Where: Topanga Beach
When: Afternoon, Saturday May 10
What: Two old high school friends catch up after an over ten-year separation.
Warnings: NSFW. MA. Language, drug use, generally-unsafe behavior. And sex.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Too many things he needed to say, and they were pushing against each other. But Iruka's mind was finally coming back, he didn't feel so scattered or dizzy or whatever it was he'd felt earlier. "I went all over the world, but there was no one to tell about it. The guys would ask about my family - I didn't have an answer. When I got engaged, Sophia asked who I wanted as Best Man. I didn't even know how to find you." Iruka sighed, his head falling back against Genma's body, shuddering slightly. Then he chuckled. "And your sisters have cooties, remember? You told me that the day I met your mom and asked who the hot babe was in the picture?"
Genma knew exactly what picture of his mom Iruka was talking about... it used to get that reaction a lot, but at the moment, he was totally okay with it. Hell, Iruka could be dating his mom and he'd probably be okay with it. "I know, I was always the shitty sibling - I hope they like me better know, hell, I send them money as much as I can." The way they were sitting now, Iruka was semi-reclined and lying back against him, and Genma could feel the texture of the scar against his belly. He wiggled, because it felt odd and kind of... hell, interesting? Exciting, even? Then another statement hit him over the head. "Wait, what? You were gonna get married? To who? And when?" He shifted again, because now he was to the point where every kind of touch felt good, and moving kind of tugged his jeans down further. More skin, more contact, and Iruka wasn't complaining so it was all good.
It should have been strange to be plastered against Genma like this, but Iruka wasn't even thinking about it. He wasn't normally a touchy-feely person - too uptight about how it would look, or what someone would think - but with Genma, it had always been okay. And now, they were going to talk, and he was feeling light enough to tell Genma everything because it was Genma and in the back of his mind, Iruka knew he might not get another chance. He only hoped Genma would stick around long enough to tell his own story.
Iruka craned his head back a little more, twisting slightly so he could see Genma's eyes. "Do you want this as separate flashbacks, or would you prefer a linear exposition?"
"You pick...they're your flashbacks." Genma decided. "I'm just along for the ride. But be sure you throw Peter into one of them." He was very, very curious about the reference Iruka had made earlier.
Settling back again, Iruka stared off at the waves for a moment, thinking. "I went into the Army after high school. Passed every test they threw at me, even the drug test. Went to some other school to become a Warrant Officer. Then more school to fly helicopters. That was a blast. I did okay. Apparently being a punk-ass kid with a bad attitude is a good trait for a pilot." The fabric of Genma's jeans was scratchy, scratchy in a nice way, so Iruka lost a few moments dragging his hands up and down the fabric, laughing at the sound his nails made.
Normally Genma didn't love being tickled, but the ecstacy made the tracks of Iruka's fingers moving up and down his legs into a sensual pleasure he had to rank right behind an Asian massage. Pre-happy-ending, of course. He slid one leg forward and caught Iruka's heel between his toes, and considered another sucker, or some gum, or anything that would keep him from interrupting, because Iruka had needed to spill since long before he got here, apparently, and Genma wanted to just let it happen. He had far less need to share his own secrets. He got a brilliant idea and swiped the leftover sucker-stick from Iruka's mouth and stuck it in his own. That would do. "Badass pilot...I think I feel a screenplay coming on. Go on."
"Fucker," Iruka muttered with a pinch to the thigh under his finger, both at the words and loss of his stick. "I think I spent 80% of my time in Alabama or Germany. Met a few women, here and there." He sighed, thinking about that time. He'd been exhilarated and exhausted and lonely and surrounded by people. "I met Sophia when I was stationed in Hawaii for some joint maneuvers with a Navy squadron. We dated, I fell hard, so I proposed. She said yes, everything was great." Iruka's voice dipped, lower and lower, because even now it hurt. "I was her first, you know? I thought that meant something."
He closed his eyes and frowned. "A month later, she called it off. Said she was too young, I was too young, blah blah blah. It hurt, but I agreed. I thought she was right. I was only 20, she was 18." His hands clenched around Genma's knees unknowingly. "I found out about a year later she'd never intended to marry me. She was just trying to get some other guy to propose. So that was my foray into almost-matrimony."
I thought that meant something.
Iruka had a way of making you want to believe things like first times meant something, for his sake if not your own. Genma slid his open palms down the lithe muscle at the cap of Iruka's shoulder, all the way down to encircle his forearms and try to soothe the clenching. "Twenty is... really young," he said softly. "You were probably better off without her, anyhow."
Twenty. Genma had been completely strung out and living out of his car at twenty, hustling to score crack. Again, he hoped to steer the conversation away from any of these past details, so glaringly different from Iruka's. "What next?" he asked, flicking the stick against Iruka's ear gently.
"Dude, don't think you're getting off that easily." Iruka rubbed his ear, wondering how the fuck it could be throbbing from one touch. "Hmmm... well, by then I was back in Germany. Then Kosovo. That was intense. Found out about Sophia getting married about that time. Then off to Korea. Met Peter there." He shrugged, hoping Genma wouldn't hear the lie he knew was coming. "It wasn't a big deal." Another shrug. He'd made his choices. "Hopped around a little more, then back to Alabama. I was assigned as an assistant to one of the flight instructors. I liked it a lot. Decided I was ready to get out, and teaching was something I should consider." He turned his head and smiled at Genma, reaching up to grab the stick in the man's mouth. "See? Nothing incredible."
Apparently evasiveness was contagious. Genma caught an inkling of it during this narrative. When Iruka grabbed the stick in his mouth, he immediately shifted it to the other side and found himself with a mouthful of finger. He'd curled his tongue around it, tasting saltiness, before it even really registered, and then all of a sudden he was thinking of tequila. Okay, that was bad. Iruka didn't seem inclined to pull away, so Genma took his hand and pulled it down, and then his brain went from craving tequila to craving sex. "So, is it true, what they say about you military types? You're all freaky buggering cumfunnels?" He started laughing even before he finished this ridiculous statement.
Iruka couldn't put words to how his finger felt, suddenly wet as it disappeared inside Genma's mouth, sending a pulse down his arm to his spine. He could only stare, jaw dropped, as Genma pulled his finger out. Said something, but Iruka missed it because the wind blowing across his finger was making it worse. Or better. Iruka knew he was blushing, he could feel it, and his breath was starting to catch, and Genma was just looking at him and laughing. Oh, it was a joke. Iruka should laugh. He would if he could breathe. His mouth was dry, so he licked his lips but it didn't help. "I really have no idea," he said finally, sitting up to find his water bottle. No idea what Genma said, no idea why he was laughing. No idea why he wanted to push Genma, Genma of all people, back against the sand and just... He'd better get a fucking grip right now. It was one thing to make crude jokes with each other, or send kissy faces across the room just to be dicks. This was too important to fuck up over something as stupid as hormones. So why couldn't he move?
The wave of uncertainty from Iruka was palpable; it contained confusion and arousal and one hell of a strong fight or flight response that seemed just about to commit wholeheartedly one way or the other. Genma figured it wouldn't be the first time Iruka had punched him over some remark - he usually deserved it. It was fun, or it used to be fun, making Iruka squirm sometimes, but following up a decade-long separation with the same old teenage behavior seemed... well, it was easy, but that didn't mean it was the right thing to do.
He reached forward and put a hand on Iruka's shoulder, lightly, so as not to spook him. "Hey. No big, I'm just running my mouth. You want another beer?"
Iruka shook his head, Genma's voice piercing through the haze in his head. "Sorry," he mumbled, ducking his head. "Brain glitch. I have no idea what you said." He covered Genma's hand with his own for a second, then stood up with a grin. "Nah, I'm good. But the sun's still up." He grabbed Genma's forearm and pulled, then twisted, dipping a little to slide Genma up onto his shoulder. "Surf's picking up. Time for a swim!"
Genma considered resisting, just for a second. If the temperature of his hat after Iruka had dunked it was any indicator, this was going to be a bracing experience.
"Help me! Saaaave me! Eeeevil barbarian!" he shrieked in what he figured was a decent Scarlett O'hara impression. Or perhaps Blanche DuBois, or some other Southern minx. Surprising that Iruka could throw him around this easily. He found himself dangling down Iruka's back, face to face with his ass, and considered biting, but figured a piledriver into the sand would suck worse than getting dunked. "You better rescue me when I get a cramp!" he screeched. "I just ate! I'm on drugs! This is kidnapping!" The joggly feeling of being carried over the uneven beach made him feel like he was on a carny roller coaster, and he closed his eyes.
"You are such a Drama Queen," Iruka sniggered, aiming a sharp slap down on Genma's ass. His reflexes were coming back, but he didn't want to break someone's neck either. "Be still!" He tightened his hold on Genma's hips with both hands. "God damn, Genma, do you have rocks in your pocket? How the hell can you be so bony and so heavy at the same time?"
Iruka charged into the surf, barely registering the almost-frigid water. Then he stopped and spun around, not letting Genma go. It was nearly summer, the waves weren't that great, but they were high enough. If he stood there for a while, Genma would get a faceful of wave.
Genma braced himself, trying to raise up higher. Just the spray that splashed onto his skin was freezing, and in his oversensitized state it started an immediate chain reaction of shudders. His hands splayed against Iruka's back, trying to get a grip on something other than wet skin. "Only one heavy thing in my pants, asshole, and it ain't rocks!" he yelled, teeth chattering.
And then he defeated his own escape attempt, as his hands slipped again and he tipped over Iruka's shoulder, head-first into the water.
"Oh shit, Genma!" Iruka plunged under the water, grabbing hold of an ankle and hauling his friend out from under the foam.
"Dude, you shouldn't dive in without checking the depth first." Good thing the infamous hat was somewhere on the beach. He pushed Genma's hair back, laughing.
At first inhale, the water was even colder than the first splashes had seemed. It didn't take any acting to cough up a lungful of saltwater. Genma had no problems swimming in the ocean, but at the moment he was glad Iruka was holding onto him. "I'm drowning," he gasped. "I require CPR. The mouth-to-mouth part. Or your face will be the last thing I see before I die!"
He carefully found his footing on the sandy bottom, and then reached up and wrapped a hand around the back of Iruka's head. The flirty dramaqueen act would disarm him... and then he could easily dunk the living shit out of him.
Iruka shook his head with a snort and pushed Genma away. "No way, man. I know where that mouth has been." Well, he knew some of the places it had been, back then. Apparently there were quite a few he hadn't known about, and he wasn't quite ready to think about Genma sucking dick, even if his own was pulsing lightly at the idea despite the cold.
Genma tried to hang on as Iruka gave him a shove, but his cold-numb fingers slipped against Iruka's neck. No way was he giving up that easily, though. He snaked one leg out under the water and hooked his heel behind Iruka's knee. He struggled to reestablish his grip, trying to screw up Iruka's balance at the same time. As they had been when they were younger, however, they were pretty evenly matched.
"That's IT, you're going DOWN, fucker!" he yelled, as he yanked forward, hoping the approach of a bigger wave would give Iruka an extra push.
In the end it wasn't the wave or even Genma that sent Iruka crashing backwards into the water, but rather a decidedly slimy twist under his foot. Like something alive had just made its presence known. Iruka shrieked and jumped away. Too bad Genma was right there, with a wave coming in behind him. Four seconds later, Iruka was flailing like an overturned turtle, still yelling his head off about a 'sea snake'.
"What the fuck, dude, it isn't Jaws or some shit!" Genma hollered, right before another wave knocked him over and thoroughly raped his airway with seawater. By the time he came up his heart was pounding and sending a renewed burst of ecstacy through his bloodstream. The sinking sunlight on the waves was full of color. Even the cold water felt good, tingly and electric, and he ran his hands all the way up his body to his neck, lifting the hair off his face and flipping it back. Hopefully Iruka did not need rescue from some sea monster, because just standing there, feeling the wind chase the water droplets across his skin and the sun try to warm off his gooseflesh, he felt too good to move.
Stumbling a few feet up the beach, Iruka dropped to hands and knees, chest heaving. Except the slimy thing was still there. With a sinking feeling, he reached back and pulled a piece of seaweed off of his foot, trapped between his toes. Just. Great. Genma was going to tease him about this for another ten years.
He rolled over, hoping the man hadn't noticed Iruka discover he'd been screaming like a little girl over a plant. "Oi, Genma! False..." The words died on his lips as he watched Genma in the surf, biting his lip because, damn. Genma looked nothing like a girl, but it didn't make him any less beautiful.
Genma finally noticed Iruka now lying in the sand, and waded out to stand above him, offhandedly attempting to hold up his now-forty-pound waterlogged jeans. "You okay? I thought some gigantic paleolithic horseshoe crab had attacked you or something." He dropped to his knees and leaned over to wring out his hair onto Iruka's stomach with a splatter. "I just started rolling so hard it hurts. It's fucking great," he panted, not even trying to control his breathing. He grabbed Iruka's hand and centered it over his chest. "Feel that."
The staccato beat under Iruka's hand made him flinch, even more than the cold drips of water on his stomach. "Genma," he asked, still half-biting his lip because he couldn't shake the image of Genma, half-naked in the water... He pulled Genma closer, pressing his ear to Genma's chest without removing his hand. "Is that safe? Sounds like you're gonna stroke out or something."
Genma grinned happily and hugged Iruka's head. "Who care's if it's safe? Feels fucking awesome, like some kind of vascular orgasm or something." It occured to him that orgasm actually was, in some way, vascular, right about the same time he noticed the wet swirls of Iruka's hair clinging to his chest. He wound dripping locks of it around his fingers. "You like getting your hair pulled?" he asked, not even aware of what a weird change-of-subject this might seem to be.
Pulling Genma down to straddle his lap, Iruka stared out across the ocean. He heard the question, and he was finally reaching the 'don't give a fuck' stage. "Sometimes. If things are getting really hot. Especially if it leads to biting." His chin was tucked over Genma's shoulder, his breath evening out after their romp in the surf. "I've been told I should really learn to keep my teeth to myself. Not everyone appreciates looking like Dracula's leftovers the next morning," he murmured, sliding one arm up Genma's back.
I appreciate it!! Me, Me, Dracula's Leftover's right here!! Genma's brain was yelling at him.
At least, the one located in his dick was yelling that. The higher brain had no suggestions, so he wiggled himself into a more comfortable perch on Iruka's lap. "Don't know why anyone would tell you that," he said, turning slightly so that his lips were against the salty shell of Iruka's ear. "I'd let you bite me all you wanted." And just to explore the first part of Iruka's answer, he gave a little tug with the fingers still entwined in the thick dark hair.
The wiggling combined with the rolling of the waves did more than that little tug to ignite a response in Iruka. Something about those waves was so sensual, and they were breaking right at Iruka's feet. Genma had stepped out of those waves. So Iruka ignored the tug for the moment. Did he want to bite? Yes. Did he want to bite Genma? Yes. Because biting would lead to writhing, and he wanted to feel that more than anything. He didn't care about the consequences at the moment.
In a blink Iruka had his hands buried in Genma's hair, rolling over to land them both in the wet sand, his teeth closing none-too-gently over the skin just under Genma's jaw, the low growl in the back of his throat nearly drowned out by the call of a gull.
Genma gasped as Iruka's weight landed on him and he felt sharp teeth bite into some of the most sensitive skin on his body... and all of it was impossibly sensitive right now. He let his eyes go closed and tossed his head to one side to give Iruka better access to that long tendon running down from neck to shoulder. The cool, wet sand coated his back where he lay, and the contrast with the warmth of Iruka's skin against his was delicious, and made him squirm to try to invite contact between even more of the bare expanse of torso between them. His cock throbbed in time with his pulse, with the waves, and no way Iruka couldn't feel that, but Genma wanted him to be absolutely sure. He moved his fingertips lightly down Iruka's back, tracing the jagged edges of the scar only briefly on his way down, and then slid his hands under the waist of Iruka's briefs. When he was finally cupping bare ass, he squeezed and pressed, giving himself something to grind up against, lazy and lewd.
The fingers tickling down his back changed the growl to a pant, and when they dipped lower and squeezed, Iruka didn't hold back his moan of satisfaction. He had everything he wanted right here. Licking down Genma's neck, Iruka bit down again and bucked, eyes squeezed shut because Genma was moving, writhing, and it felt so good Iruka couldn't bear to look. Moans changed to whines and gasps and muttered oh-fucks each time their hips met. Now it was hot, Iruka's skin practically vibrating from double-sensation of the wind on his back, and Genma, all of Genma, on his front. He reached down and roughly pulled one of Genma's hands up out of his briefs, laced their fingers briefly, then placed the hand in his hair, twining strands around long fingers. Now. Pull now.
It seemed impossible to get enough of it, skin moving against skin, sliding a little as beads of sweat gathered between their bodies, lubricating the friction better than the saltwater had. Genma realized the jeans he’d never bothered to fasten were now finally hitched down even further; they held him quite trapped and unable to wrap a leg around Iruka’s hip as they moved against each other. Each graze of teeth against his jaw, his neck, his collarbone just made him want more, and he mumbled encouragements that were little more than shivery exhalations and swear words, but fuck if Iruka didn’t just get it and know exactly where to put his mouth next. He felt one of his grasping hands hauled upward to again tangle in Iruka’s hair. For the first time he got a glimpse of Iruka’s face - dark eyes at half-mast, swollen lips open, asking for… this. Genma grasped enough of Iruka’s hair not to pinch and pulled - not like before. Hard.
“Like this?” he whispered against the neck that now arched above his face.
Iruka couldn't describe the sound that exploded from his body, strangled as it was with his throat taut against Genma's, but there was a 'yes' in there somewhere. His entire scalp was tingling, his arms shaking as he held himself up. "Yes," he groaned again, or maybe it was the first time, his body stalling its frantic pace. If someone could bottle this moment, this very second, all of it, Iruka would be an addict in no time.
Genma felt the sound Iruka made vibrate through both of their bodies, right before a cold wave washed up over their legs. It brought him out of the haze of sensation he’d seconds earlier been willing to remain within indefinitely. Iruka in a state of complete bliss on top of him was something he’d care to revisit later, particularly if they could do it warmer, and possibly even dryer. He still couldn’t quite keep his one hand from massaging Iruka’s scalp, and the other one from exploring those irresistible indentations at the base of his pelvis. “Hey,” he said hoarsely. “Tide’s coming in. ‘M cold.”
"Huh?" Iruka shook his head, trying to focus on something other than that ohgodwantnow feeling. He pulled back and stared down at Genma, blinking. Okay... brakes. He could understand that. And he couldn't feel his fingers. Oh.... yeah, cold. It would suck if they drowned out here. "Sorry... guess I got carried away." He sat back on his knees and pulled Genma up with him, looking away. "I'm gonna rescue the beer. Did you bring something to make a fire?"
“Think there’s firewood in the shed. I’ll check.” Genma disengaged from Iruka, a little disappointedly, but there was really no way to accomplish anything all tangled together like that. As he stood up he finally lost the jeans completely and kicked them away halfheartedly. “Pretentious designer piece of shit, anyway,” he cursed, grabbing them by the leg and dragging them behind him as he stalked naked towards the house.
Don't look. Don't look. Don't fucking look. Iruka sighed, casting a parting glance over his shoulder. Shit. Even with Genma's backside caked with mud and sand... Sighing, he pushed all of it to the back of his head and swam out to the rocks where the case of beer was still submerged, taking a little longer than absolutely necessary. Probably a bad idea anyway. He still needed to know some things first.
Genma returned several minutes later, still naked but now sand-free and carrying firewood. He rummaged through their things until he found a towel and wrapped it around his waist just for the safekeeping of his junk during the firemaking process. When he had a nice little boy-scouty fire going (amazing, since they’d kicked him out of boyscouts), he plopped down on one of the blankets and started repacking his pipe.
“Forgot to tell you, there’s an outdoor shower next to the shed - go get the sand out of your crack,” he called as Iruka approached with his beer.
That you put there... Iruka bit his lip at the thought. This wasn't Genma's fault, Iruka had full control over his body, he wasn't that impaired. He was being childish and he knew it. Sighing, he nodded at Genma, wishing he had his sunglasses to hide his face. Soon it would be full dark, though. That would help. He dumped the beer by the cooler and snagged his towel, waiting until he was by the shed before flipping the sand off of it. The water was surprisingly warm after his extended stay in the Pacific Ocean. He cracked his neck a few times, taking deep calming breaths. Genma was his friend. That was it. He was too important... Splaying his palms against the wall, Iruka leaned into the shower, eyes closed. Who the fuck was he kidding? He'd always had a thing for the guy, had taken great pains to hide it. Never imagined Genma was anything other than straight, at the same time trying to pretend he was as well. Dammit...
The dancing flames were a little mesmerizing, and Genma found himself staring at them, just holding the pipe and lighter loosely. Iruka was taking his time showering, so Genma ran through the visual of the last several minutes a few times. He found himself stepping back mentally and trying to decide how he would have shot it. Black and white, real film… very arty. Or maybe his little hand held digital, all jerky and immediate, just like the real thing. God. If he thought about it more he’d get hard again, and him sitting at the fire with a raging erection was, without a doubt, more than Iruka would be able to contend with. “Iruuuuuuukaaa!” he yelled, when he thought he heard footsteps coming back around the house. “Come baaaaack! I still like you!”
"Would hope so, jerk," Iruka said, snapping Genma's hip with the corner of his towel. "Kinda pointless getting together if you didn't." He plopped down on the blanket next to Genma, not caring his briefs were still wet. He'd rinsed them out, wrung them dry. It was better than nothing. He looked sideways at Genma, then at the pipe. "You gonna light it? Or do I need to do it for you? Again."
Genma handed the pipe and lighter over with a smile. “I’m lazy, you do it for me,” he said. “You can shotgun me too, while you’re at it.” He really didn’t think Iruka would take him up on that, but what the hell. The entire afternoon had already been more than a little surreal.
Rolling his eyes, Iruka shook his head with a low chuckle, holding the pipe up to his lips. Same old Genma. The punk in him couldn't resist the challenge, though. Maybe he would catch Genma off-guard. It wasn't fair he was the only one in a tailspin tonight. "If you insist," he whispered, his voice tight from holding the smoke in.
“I insist you hurry up before you lose that lungful,” Genma said and leaned forward.
Iruka curled his hand behind Genma's neck and pulled until their noses bumped. "Bastard," he hissed as he covered Genma's mouth with his own and blew the smoke in. Genma tasted... Iruka couldn't put a word to it. Sweet and salty and spicy and soapy, all at once. He couldn't resist a small nip on the corner of Genma's lower lip as he sat back, smirking, one eyebrow raised.
Genma was pretty sure his left eye was twitching, which might have only been noticeable to him, but then he completely blew any cool factor by coughing, hard. That… was unexpected. And now his lips felt tingly, and puffy, and… he pushed the pipe back when Iruka tried to hand it to him.
“Again,” he said, pointing to his mouth. Inarticulate, yes. But hard to miss his meaning.
"Gods, is the almighty Genma coughing over a little weed?" Iruka snickered into his hand, accepting the pipe. "Shit, man, how old are you?" The snicker didn't stop, turning into a full-blown belly laugh. "Y-y-you... you said... you were a dealer." Iruka set the pipe down carefully so he wouldn't dump the contents on the blanket. "Dude." He leaned against Genma's shoulder, tears running down his face. "Dude."
As soon as Iruka started laughing, Genma snorted, and then coughed again, and then repeated the process until there was literally no new oxygen entering his lungs. “I… you …assfuck bastard…” More snorting, and laughing, and then the deprivation knocked him over and he fell backwards under the weight of Iruka’s head. “Fuck, man. What can I say? It’s good shit.”
Iruka fell with him, carefully landing on his elbow so he didn't smash Genma's shoulder. "It is. Sure you want more? I need you coherent so I can find out about the missing years." He rubbed one hand up and down Genma's chest, trying to soothe the coughing. "I'm not trying to be a dick, Genma. I just want to know. It seems you've been keeping things from me from the beginning."
“Not intentionally. On purpose, I mean. I mean…” Genma trailed off and took the pipe and lighter back from Iruka finally, turning them over in his hand. It felt really good to kind of just spoon up to Iruka like this. Maybe Iruka would understand some of it. Or at least, accept it. Flat on his back, he hit the pipe and held the smoke as long as he could. “I’ll trade you… past details… for…” he exhaled hard. There was no way to joke about it. “For not thinking I’m just some scumbag you’re sorry you ran into again.”
Sighing, Iruka leaned down and brushed his forehead against Genma's shoulder, then grabbed the pipe back. "You could stab me in the heart, Genma, and I still wouldn't be sorry. Dead, most likely, but not sorry." He sat up and lit the pipe again, holding the smoke in until he could see spots behind his eyes. "Hell, if I thought it would help, I would hand you the knife." He smiled to himself because he knew he was being overdramatic, but he didn't know any other way to make Genma understand. "So... USC. What happened?"
"You've prolly had enough stabbing," Genma grinned as he watched Iruka struggle to hold in the smoke. Hell, probably a comment in poor taste... but, there was more than one kind of stabbing, too... he shook his head to jar his brain back on track. "Right, USC. Or, before that... don't suppose you knew I was fucking my high school guidance counselor. I'd never have gotten in on my grades alone, but he managed to make it worth my while - figured out a need-based scholarship and some grants." Genma waited a few seconds to see if this was going to provoke a shocked or disgusted reaction, and when it didn't, he took his turn at the pipe and continued.
"So when I graduated, I figured, you're only gonna get one chance at this, so let's not fuck it up... I was gonna do whatever it took to get through school there. First mistake was moving into my own place. I wasn't the type to be particularly good at managing my own life, like you were. But I made what I thought was my best attempt at it... I mean, I was finally doing stuff I enjoyed, so I put the time in, finished my projects... even won some competition." He didn't add that he no longer remembered what it was for. "But I never had enough money to cover the bills on top of school. And I drank more - like way more than you were used to seeing me do. And too hungover to get to class most mornings, so I'd do whatever I could to get my ass up and moving. Speed, mostly, and some coke... but where I was living, crack was easy to come by... and for awhile I had it all balanced out. Party all night, do a bump in the morning, or smoke, go to class, get my work done... maybe... then out to start it all over again. All kinda ran together after awhile." He scooched down further, fumbling for a blanket. "And that's part one. You want part two, or are you bored yet?"
Iruka shook his head. "Not bored, but... damn, Genma. All of this was going on and you never told me. If I'd known..." He hunched over even more, glazed eyes staring directly at the fire. "If I'd known, there wasn't a damn thing I could've done about it." Working two jobs, mixed up with one of the chefs at the restaurant, he'd seen Genma maybe four times during that period. "So when I had that meltdown in March, and you told me you had time, you really didn't."
Genma shut his eyes for a moment, and then hauled the blanket over himself. Be honest. It's the only thing that might redeem you for being a worldclass fuckup. "Probably not. In all honesty... I don't totally remember. That was kind of right around the time everything all went to shit simultaneously." He realized how big of a deal it had probably been, that he had just dropped out of Iruka’s life at that time, and tried to resist the urge to make excuses. "I may be kind of a failure at recovery, at least in the traditional sense," he smiled lopsidedly as he raised the pipe. "But I did try to own up to all the people I hurt, and make amends. I never did that with you. Will you let me, now? I'm sorry. I'll have time. From now on."
"Nah, it's okay. Just..." Iruka shot a look behind him, watching the fire draw shadows across Genma's face. "If you're in trouble, tell me. If you need to disappear, tell me. That was the hardest part - not knowing."
He lay back, resting his head on Genma's hip and looking up at the sky. Part of him didn't want to know any more, but it was ask now or forever hold his peace. "So, what happened after that? You mentioned jail."
This should’ve seemed harder, but for some reason it was easier. “Well, a few months are a little bit of a blur. I ended up in the hospital once, when I got ahold of some bad shit.” He’d show Iruka the scar on his head another time, it was too nice to have Iruka lying trustingly on him like that. “By then I was dealing, a little bit of everything.” Kinda like now. “Got busted, and pleaded to possession, because the bust was shady. Still went to jail, though. Sixteen months. By then my mom and my sisters weren’t talking to me anymore, so I ended up living in my car in Santa Monica. Worked in some danceclub at night… sometimes I’d sleep there. When I slept.”
Iruka closed his eyes, rolling over a little to face Genma. The blanket was scratchy against his cheek, or maybe it was sand. "That's a long time for possession." He held Genma's eyes for a moment, then dropped them. "So, I'm assuming rehab after that. How did you end up at Nixcore?" He wanted to know more, wanted to ask more, but he was starting to lose focus, and each time he caught Genma's eyes, it seemed less and less important.
Ah, some relief. He could gloss over some of the uglier details. “Nah, rehab was...later. After I got out of jail, I worked at this little club... some director found me and kinda... took a chance on me, even though I was totally fucked up most of the time. He saw something, I guess. And I started working my way through the adult film industry from there. I’ve worked with a couple of the Nixcore people before. It was only a matter of time before it came back around and I got a call. Not that I’m really working yet… I don’t think they know which end is up around there.” By now he was running his fingers through Iruka’s almost-dry hair, over and over.
"Mmmmm. How weird is it we both end up there, huh?" Genma's fingers were hypnotic, that and the fire and the pot and the entire evening conspiring to drag what was left of Iruka's functional mind under the sand. "Should probably watch some of their movies since I'm supposed to maybe be in one of them."
Genma’s fingers moved of their own accord, down from Iruka’s scalp and across the fine bones of his face. “Mmm, dunno. That’s a good idea, and a bad one. You need some sort of exposure to it, but watching won’t give you a good idea what it’s really like to be getting blown on camera. Or whatever.” Tired of seriousness and speculation, Genma’s brain did another flipflop. “I think I have my older digital with me. Want a trial run?” Before Iruka could respond, he considered. “Light’s all wrong, though.”
Chuckling, Iruka turned over onto his stomach and reached an arm out to cover Genma's waist. "You know I have no clue what you're blathering about, right? Perhaps you've forgotten, but the only reason I was even in drama club was..." Iruka laughed again, poking a finger into Genma's ribs. "Ahhh, fuck. What's-her-name. Whatever. I'm not the artist you are, Gen."
“Aaiiiee, Papi, you mean GraciELLLLaaaa?” Genma ruined his bad Latino accent by laughing, partially at himself and partially at Iruka’s tickling. “That bitch was SO not worth your time!” He squirmed to try to avoid the nimble fingers, as the tickling was harder to contend with fucked up than straight. “You met me in drama club! Woulda given you a way better time than that puta, if you’d given me the chance!”
Iruka sat up suddenly and pinned Genma's shoulders to the sand. "So," he smirked, his voice low. "You do remember some things from back then." He tilted his head, remembering that day, how they drank and lay on the beach and talked about everything, then hit on pretty much any girl that walked by until Iruka had to leave. "As I recall, we had a blast." He leaned closer, fingers gripping Genma's shoulders just a little too tightly. "But somehow I don't think that's what you meant just now. So tell me, man. Talk to me like I'm a perejil."
Iruka’s sudden move knocked the wind out of Genma, but he lay back and took in the display with lidded eyes. Iruka’s hands digging into his shoulders made him want to… something. Time to do something.
“You mean get you past any denial you may still be enjoying?” he smirked, and reached up behind Iruka’s head. “Just remember, you asked for it.” And he pulled, through the little bit of resistance he felt, until he felt Iruka’s mouth against his own. No going easy, here… he sucked Iruka’s bottom lip into his mouth.
---
read on to: Part 3
Who: Iruka, Genma
Where: Topanga Beach
When: Afternoon, Saturday May 10
What: Two old high school friends catch up after an over ten-year separation.
Warnings: NSFW. MA. Language, drug use, generally-unsafe behavior. And sex.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Too many things he needed to say, and they were pushing against each other. But Iruka's mind was finally coming back, he didn't feel so scattered or dizzy or whatever it was he'd felt earlier. "I went all over the world, but there was no one to tell about it. The guys would ask about my family - I didn't have an answer. When I got engaged, Sophia asked who I wanted as Best Man. I didn't even know how to find you." Iruka sighed, his head falling back against Genma's body, shuddering slightly. Then he chuckled. "And your sisters have cooties, remember? You told me that the day I met your mom and asked who the hot babe was in the picture?"
Genma knew exactly what picture of his mom Iruka was talking about... it used to get that reaction a lot, but at the moment, he was totally okay with it. Hell, Iruka could be dating his mom and he'd probably be okay with it. "I know, I was always the shitty sibling - I hope they like me better know, hell, I send them money as much as I can." The way they were sitting now, Iruka was semi-reclined and lying back against him, and Genma could feel the texture of the scar against his belly. He wiggled, because it felt odd and kind of... hell, interesting? Exciting, even? Then another statement hit him over the head. "Wait, what? You were gonna get married? To who? And when?" He shifted again, because now he was to the point where every kind of touch felt good, and moving kind of tugged his jeans down further. More skin, more contact, and Iruka wasn't complaining so it was all good.
It should have been strange to be plastered against Genma like this, but Iruka wasn't even thinking about it. He wasn't normally a touchy-feely person - too uptight about how it would look, or what someone would think - but with Genma, it had always been okay. And now, they were going to talk, and he was feeling light enough to tell Genma everything because it was Genma and in the back of his mind, Iruka knew he might not get another chance. He only hoped Genma would stick around long enough to tell his own story.
Iruka craned his head back a little more, twisting slightly so he could see Genma's eyes. "Do you want this as separate flashbacks, or would you prefer a linear exposition?"
"You pick...they're your flashbacks." Genma decided. "I'm just along for the ride. But be sure you throw Peter into one of them." He was very, very curious about the reference Iruka had made earlier.
Settling back again, Iruka stared off at the waves for a moment, thinking. "I went into the Army after high school. Passed every test they threw at me, even the drug test. Went to some other school to become a Warrant Officer. Then more school to fly helicopters. That was a blast. I did okay. Apparently being a punk-ass kid with a bad attitude is a good trait for a pilot." The fabric of Genma's jeans was scratchy, scratchy in a nice way, so Iruka lost a few moments dragging his hands up and down the fabric, laughing at the sound his nails made.
Normally Genma didn't love being tickled, but the ecstacy made the tracks of Iruka's fingers moving up and down his legs into a sensual pleasure he had to rank right behind an Asian massage. Pre-happy-ending, of course. He slid one leg forward and caught Iruka's heel between his toes, and considered another sucker, or some gum, or anything that would keep him from interrupting, because Iruka had needed to spill since long before he got here, apparently, and Genma wanted to just let it happen. He had far less need to share his own secrets. He got a brilliant idea and swiped the leftover sucker-stick from Iruka's mouth and stuck it in his own. That would do. "Badass pilot...I think I feel a screenplay coming on. Go on."
"Fucker," Iruka muttered with a pinch to the thigh under his finger, both at the words and loss of his stick. "I think I spent 80% of my time in Alabama or Germany. Met a few women, here and there." He sighed, thinking about that time. He'd been exhilarated and exhausted and lonely and surrounded by people. "I met Sophia when I was stationed in Hawaii for some joint maneuvers with a Navy squadron. We dated, I fell hard, so I proposed. She said yes, everything was great." Iruka's voice dipped, lower and lower, because even now it hurt. "I was her first, you know? I thought that meant something."
He closed his eyes and frowned. "A month later, she called it off. Said she was too young, I was too young, blah blah blah. It hurt, but I agreed. I thought she was right. I was only 20, she was 18." His hands clenched around Genma's knees unknowingly. "I found out about a year later she'd never intended to marry me. She was just trying to get some other guy to propose. So that was my foray into almost-matrimony."
I thought that meant something.
Iruka had a way of making you want to believe things like first times meant something, for his sake if not your own. Genma slid his open palms down the lithe muscle at the cap of Iruka's shoulder, all the way down to encircle his forearms and try to soothe the clenching. "Twenty is... really young," he said softly. "You were probably better off without her, anyhow."
Twenty. Genma had been completely strung out and living out of his car at twenty, hustling to score crack. Again, he hoped to steer the conversation away from any of these past details, so glaringly different from Iruka's. "What next?" he asked, flicking the stick against Iruka's ear gently.
"Dude, don't think you're getting off that easily." Iruka rubbed his ear, wondering how the fuck it could be throbbing from one touch. "Hmmm... well, by then I was back in Germany. Then Kosovo. That was intense. Found out about Sophia getting married about that time. Then off to Korea. Met Peter there." He shrugged, hoping Genma wouldn't hear the lie he knew was coming. "It wasn't a big deal." Another shrug. He'd made his choices. "Hopped around a little more, then back to Alabama. I was assigned as an assistant to one of the flight instructors. I liked it a lot. Decided I was ready to get out, and teaching was something I should consider." He turned his head and smiled at Genma, reaching up to grab the stick in the man's mouth. "See? Nothing incredible."
Apparently evasiveness was contagious. Genma caught an inkling of it during this narrative. When Iruka grabbed the stick in his mouth, he immediately shifted it to the other side and found himself with a mouthful of finger. He'd curled his tongue around it, tasting saltiness, before it even really registered, and then all of a sudden he was thinking of tequila. Okay, that was bad. Iruka didn't seem inclined to pull away, so Genma took his hand and pulled it down, and then his brain went from craving tequila to craving sex. "So, is it true, what they say about you military types? You're all freaky buggering cumfunnels?" He started laughing even before he finished this ridiculous statement.
Iruka couldn't put words to how his finger felt, suddenly wet as it disappeared inside Genma's mouth, sending a pulse down his arm to his spine. He could only stare, jaw dropped, as Genma pulled his finger out. Said something, but Iruka missed it because the wind blowing across his finger was making it worse. Or better. Iruka knew he was blushing, he could feel it, and his breath was starting to catch, and Genma was just looking at him and laughing. Oh, it was a joke. Iruka should laugh. He would if he could breathe. His mouth was dry, so he licked his lips but it didn't help. "I really have no idea," he said finally, sitting up to find his water bottle. No idea what Genma said, no idea why he was laughing. No idea why he wanted to push Genma, Genma of all people, back against the sand and just... He'd better get a fucking grip right now. It was one thing to make crude jokes with each other, or send kissy faces across the room just to be dicks. This was too important to fuck up over something as stupid as hormones. So why couldn't he move?
The wave of uncertainty from Iruka was palpable; it contained confusion and arousal and one hell of a strong fight or flight response that seemed just about to commit wholeheartedly one way or the other. Genma figured it wouldn't be the first time Iruka had punched him over some remark - he usually deserved it. It was fun, or it used to be fun, making Iruka squirm sometimes, but following up a decade-long separation with the same old teenage behavior seemed... well, it was easy, but that didn't mean it was the right thing to do.
He reached forward and put a hand on Iruka's shoulder, lightly, so as not to spook him. "Hey. No big, I'm just running my mouth. You want another beer?"
Iruka shook his head, Genma's voice piercing through the haze in his head. "Sorry," he mumbled, ducking his head. "Brain glitch. I have no idea what you said." He covered Genma's hand with his own for a second, then stood up with a grin. "Nah, I'm good. But the sun's still up." He grabbed Genma's forearm and pulled, then twisted, dipping a little to slide Genma up onto his shoulder. "Surf's picking up. Time for a swim!"
Genma considered resisting, just for a second. If the temperature of his hat after Iruka had dunked it was any indicator, this was going to be a bracing experience.
"Help me! Saaaave me! Eeeevil barbarian!" he shrieked in what he figured was a decent Scarlett O'hara impression. Or perhaps Blanche DuBois, or some other Southern minx. Surprising that Iruka could throw him around this easily. He found himself dangling down Iruka's back, face to face with his ass, and considered biting, but figured a piledriver into the sand would suck worse than getting dunked. "You better rescue me when I get a cramp!" he screeched. "I just ate! I'm on drugs! This is kidnapping!" The joggly feeling of being carried over the uneven beach made him feel like he was on a carny roller coaster, and he closed his eyes.
"You are such a Drama Queen," Iruka sniggered, aiming a sharp slap down on Genma's ass. His reflexes were coming back, but he didn't want to break someone's neck either. "Be still!" He tightened his hold on Genma's hips with both hands. "God damn, Genma, do you have rocks in your pocket? How the hell can you be so bony and so heavy at the same time?"
Iruka charged into the surf, barely registering the almost-frigid water. Then he stopped and spun around, not letting Genma go. It was nearly summer, the waves weren't that great, but they were high enough. If he stood there for a while, Genma would get a faceful of wave.
Genma braced himself, trying to raise up higher. Just the spray that splashed onto his skin was freezing, and in his oversensitized state it started an immediate chain reaction of shudders. His hands splayed against Iruka's back, trying to get a grip on something other than wet skin. "Only one heavy thing in my pants, asshole, and it ain't rocks!" he yelled, teeth chattering.
And then he defeated his own escape attempt, as his hands slipped again and he tipped over Iruka's shoulder, head-first into the water.
"Oh shit, Genma!" Iruka plunged under the water, grabbing hold of an ankle and hauling his friend out from under the foam.
"Dude, you shouldn't dive in without checking the depth first." Good thing the infamous hat was somewhere on the beach. He pushed Genma's hair back, laughing.
At first inhale, the water was even colder than the first splashes had seemed. It didn't take any acting to cough up a lungful of saltwater. Genma had no problems swimming in the ocean, but at the moment he was glad Iruka was holding onto him. "I'm drowning," he gasped. "I require CPR. The mouth-to-mouth part. Or your face will be the last thing I see before I die!"
He carefully found his footing on the sandy bottom, and then reached up and wrapped a hand around the back of Iruka's head. The flirty dramaqueen act would disarm him... and then he could easily dunk the living shit out of him.
Iruka shook his head with a snort and pushed Genma away. "No way, man. I know where that mouth has been." Well, he knew some of the places it had been, back then. Apparently there were quite a few he hadn't known about, and he wasn't quite ready to think about Genma sucking dick, even if his own was pulsing lightly at the idea despite the cold.
Genma tried to hang on as Iruka gave him a shove, but his cold-numb fingers slipped against Iruka's neck. No way was he giving up that easily, though. He snaked one leg out under the water and hooked his heel behind Iruka's knee. He struggled to reestablish his grip, trying to screw up Iruka's balance at the same time. As they had been when they were younger, however, they were pretty evenly matched.
"That's IT, you're going DOWN, fucker!" he yelled, as he yanked forward, hoping the approach of a bigger wave would give Iruka an extra push.
In the end it wasn't the wave or even Genma that sent Iruka crashing backwards into the water, but rather a decidedly slimy twist under his foot. Like something alive had just made its presence known. Iruka shrieked and jumped away. Too bad Genma was right there, with a wave coming in behind him. Four seconds later, Iruka was flailing like an overturned turtle, still yelling his head off about a 'sea snake'.
"What the fuck, dude, it isn't Jaws or some shit!" Genma hollered, right before another wave knocked him over and thoroughly raped his airway with seawater. By the time he came up his heart was pounding and sending a renewed burst of ecstacy through his bloodstream. The sinking sunlight on the waves was full of color. Even the cold water felt good, tingly and electric, and he ran his hands all the way up his body to his neck, lifting the hair off his face and flipping it back. Hopefully Iruka did not need rescue from some sea monster, because just standing there, feeling the wind chase the water droplets across his skin and the sun try to warm off his gooseflesh, he felt too good to move.
Stumbling a few feet up the beach, Iruka dropped to hands and knees, chest heaving. Except the slimy thing was still there. With a sinking feeling, he reached back and pulled a piece of seaweed off of his foot, trapped between his toes. Just. Great. Genma was going to tease him about this for another ten years.
He rolled over, hoping the man hadn't noticed Iruka discover he'd been screaming like a little girl over a plant. "Oi, Genma! False..." The words died on his lips as he watched Genma in the surf, biting his lip because, damn. Genma looked nothing like a girl, but it didn't make him any less beautiful.
Genma finally noticed Iruka now lying in the sand, and waded out to stand above him, offhandedly attempting to hold up his now-forty-pound waterlogged jeans. "You okay? I thought some gigantic paleolithic horseshoe crab had attacked you or something." He dropped to his knees and leaned over to wring out his hair onto Iruka's stomach with a splatter. "I just started rolling so hard it hurts. It's fucking great," he panted, not even trying to control his breathing. He grabbed Iruka's hand and centered it over his chest. "Feel that."
The staccato beat under Iruka's hand made him flinch, even more than the cold drips of water on his stomach. "Genma," he asked, still half-biting his lip because he couldn't shake the image of Genma, half-naked in the water... He pulled Genma closer, pressing his ear to Genma's chest without removing his hand. "Is that safe? Sounds like you're gonna stroke out or something."
Genma grinned happily and hugged Iruka's head. "Who care's if it's safe? Feels fucking awesome, like some kind of vascular orgasm or something." It occured to him that orgasm actually was, in some way, vascular, right about the same time he noticed the wet swirls of Iruka's hair clinging to his chest. He wound dripping locks of it around his fingers. "You like getting your hair pulled?" he asked, not even aware of what a weird change-of-subject this might seem to be.
Pulling Genma down to straddle his lap, Iruka stared out across the ocean. He heard the question, and he was finally reaching the 'don't give a fuck' stage. "Sometimes. If things are getting really hot. Especially if it leads to biting." His chin was tucked over Genma's shoulder, his breath evening out after their romp in the surf. "I've been told I should really learn to keep my teeth to myself. Not everyone appreciates looking like Dracula's leftovers the next morning," he murmured, sliding one arm up Genma's back.
I appreciate it!! Me, Me, Dracula's Leftover's right here!! Genma's brain was yelling at him.
At least, the one located in his dick was yelling that. The higher brain had no suggestions, so he wiggled himself into a more comfortable perch on Iruka's lap. "Don't know why anyone would tell you that," he said, turning slightly so that his lips were against the salty shell of Iruka's ear. "I'd let you bite me all you wanted." And just to explore the first part of Iruka's answer, he gave a little tug with the fingers still entwined in the thick dark hair.
The wiggling combined with the rolling of the waves did more than that little tug to ignite a response in Iruka. Something about those waves was so sensual, and they were breaking right at Iruka's feet. Genma had stepped out of those waves. So Iruka ignored the tug for the moment. Did he want to bite? Yes. Did he want to bite Genma? Yes. Because biting would lead to writhing, and he wanted to feel that more than anything. He didn't care about the consequences at the moment.
In a blink Iruka had his hands buried in Genma's hair, rolling over to land them both in the wet sand, his teeth closing none-too-gently over the skin just under Genma's jaw, the low growl in the back of his throat nearly drowned out by the call of a gull.
Genma gasped as Iruka's weight landed on him and he felt sharp teeth bite into some of the most sensitive skin on his body... and all of it was impossibly sensitive right now. He let his eyes go closed and tossed his head to one side to give Iruka better access to that long tendon running down from neck to shoulder. The cool, wet sand coated his back where he lay, and the contrast with the warmth of Iruka's skin against his was delicious, and made him squirm to try to invite contact between even more of the bare expanse of torso between them. His cock throbbed in time with his pulse, with the waves, and no way Iruka couldn't feel that, but Genma wanted him to be absolutely sure. He moved his fingertips lightly down Iruka's back, tracing the jagged edges of the scar only briefly on his way down, and then slid his hands under the waist of Iruka's briefs. When he was finally cupping bare ass, he squeezed and pressed, giving himself something to grind up against, lazy and lewd.
The fingers tickling down his back changed the growl to a pant, and when they dipped lower and squeezed, Iruka didn't hold back his moan of satisfaction. He had everything he wanted right here. Licking down Genma's neck, Iruka bit down again and bucked, eyes squeezed shut because Genma was moving, writhing, and it felt so good Iruka couldn't bear to look. Moans changed to whines and gasps and muttered oh-fucks each time their hips met. Now it was hot, Iruka's skin practically vibrating from double-sensation of the wind on his back, and Genma, all of Genma, on his front. He reached down and roughly pulled one of Genma's hands up out of his briefs, laced their fingers briefly, then placed the hand in his hair, twining strands around long fingers. Now. Pull now.
It seemed impossible to get enough of it, skin moving against skin, sliding a little as beads of sweat gathered between their bodies, lubricating the friction better than the saltwater had. Genma realized the jeans he’d never bothered to fasten were now finally hitched down even further; they held him quite trapped and unable to wrap a leg around Iruka’s hip as they moved against each other. Each graze of teeth against his jaw, his neck, his collarbone just made him want more, and he mumbled encouragements that were little more than shivery exhalations and swear words, but fuck if Iruka didn’t just get it and know exactly where to put his mouth next. He felt one of his grasping hands hauled upward to again tangle in Iruka’s hair. For the first time he got a glimpse of Iruka’s face - dark eyes at half-mast, swollen lips open, asking for… this. Genma grasped enough of Iruka’s hair not to pinch and pulled - not like before. Hard.
“Like this?” he whispered against the neck that now arched above his face.
Iruka couldn't describe the sound that exploded from his body, strangled as it was with his throat taut against Genma's, but there was a 'yes' in there somewhere. His entire scalp was tingling, his arms shaking as he held himself up. "Yes," he groaned again, or maybe it was the first time, his body stalling its frantic pace. If someone could bottle this moment, this very second, all of it, Iruka would be an addict in no time.
Genma felt the sound Iruka made vibrate through both of their bodies, right before a cold wave washed up over their legs. It brought him out of the haze of sensation he’d seconds earlier been willing to remain within indefinitely. Iruka in a state of complete bliss on top of him was something he’d care to revisit later, particularly if they could do it warmer, and possibly even dryer. He still couldn’t quite keep his one hand from massaging Iruka’s scalp, and the other one from exploring those irresistible indentations at the base of his pelvis. “Hey,” he said hoarsely. “Tide’s coming in. ‘M cold.”
"Huh?" Iruka shook his head, trying to focus on something other than that ohgodwantnow feeling. He pulled back and stared down at Genma, blinking. Okay... brakes. He could understand that. And he couldn't feel his fingers. Oh.... yeah, cold. It would suck if they drowned out here. "Sorry... guess I got carried away." He sat back on his knees and pulled Genma up with him, looking away. "I'm gonna rescue the beer. Did you bring something to make a fire?"
“Think there’s firewood in the shed. I’ll check.” Genma disengaged from Iruka, a little disappointedly, but there was really no way to accomplish anything all tangled together like that. As he stood up he finally lost the jeans completely and kicked them away halfheartedly. “Pretentious designer piece of shit, anyway,” he cursed, grabbing them by the leg and dragging them behind him as he stalked naked towards the house.
Don't look. Don't look. Don't fucking look. Iruka sighed, casting a parting glance over his shoulder. Shit. Even with Genma's backside caked with mud and sand... Sighing, he pushed all of it to the back of his head and swam out to the rocks where the case of beer was still submerged, taking a little longer than absolutely necessary. Probably a bad idea anyway. He still needed to know some things first.
Genma returned several minutes later, still naked but now sand-free and carrying firewood. He rummaged through their things until he found a towel and wrapped it around his waist just for the safekeeping of his junk during the firemaking process. When he had a nice little boy-scouty fire going (amazing, since they’d kicked him out of boyscouts), he plopped down on one of the blankets and started repacking his pipe.
“Forgot to tell you, there’s an outdoor shower next to the shed - go get the sand out of your crack,” he called as Iruka approached with his beer.
That you put there... Iruka bit his lip at the thought. This wasn't Genma's fault, Iruka had full control over his body, he wasn't that impaired. He was being childish and he knew it. Sighing, he nodded at Genma, wishing he had his sunglasses to hide his face. Soon it would be full dark, though. That would help. He dumped the beer by the cooler and snagged his towel, waiting until he was by the shed before flipping the sand off of it. The water was surprisingly warm after his extended stay in the Pacific Ocean. He cracked his neck a few times, taking deep calming breaths. Genma was his friend. That was it. He was too important... Splaying his palms against the wall, Iruka leaned into the shower, eyes closed. Who the fuck was he kidding? He'd always had a thing for the guy, had taken great pains to hide it. Never imagined Genma was anything other than straight, at the same time trying to pretend he was as well. Dammit...
The dancing flames were a little mesmerizing, and Genma found himself staring at them, just holding the pipe and lighter loosely. Iruka was taking his time showering, so Genma ran through the visual of the last several minutes a few times. He found himself stepping back mentally and trying to decide how he would have shot it. Black and white, real film… very arty. Or maybe his little hand held digital, all jerky and immediate, just like the real thing. God. If he thought about it more he’d get hard again, and him sitting at the fire with a raging erection was, without a doubt, more than Iruka would be able to contend with. “Iruuuuuuukaaa!” he yelled, when he thought he heard footsteps coming back around the house. “Come baaaaack! I still like you!”
"Would hope so, jerk," Iruka said, snapping Genma's hip with the corner of his towel. "Kinda pointless getting together if you didn't." He plopped down on the blanket next to Genma, not caring his briefs were still wet. He'd rinsed them out, wrung them dry. It was better than nothing. He looked sideways at Genma, then at the pipe. "You gonna light it? Or do I need to do it for you? Again."
Genma handed the pipe and lighter over with a smile. “I’m lazy, you do it for me,” he said. “You can shotgun me too, while you’re at it.” He really didn’t think Iruka would take him up on that, but what the hell. The entire afternoon had already been more than a little surreal.
Rolling his eyes, Iruka shook his head with a low chuckle, holding the pipe up to his lips. Same old Genma. The punk in him couldn't resist the challenge, though. Maybe he would catch Genma off-guard. It wasn't fair he was the only one in a tailspin tonight. "If you insist," he whispered, his voice tight from holding the smoke in.
“I insist you hurry up before you lose that lungful,” Genma said and leaned forward.
Iruka curled his hand behind Genma's neck and pulled until their noses bumped. "Bastard," he hissed as he covered Genma's mouth with his own and blew the smoke in. Genma tasted... Iruka couldn't put a word to it. Sweet and salty and spicy and soapy, all at once. He couldn't resist a small nip on the corner of Genma's lower lip as he sat back, smirking, one eyebrow raised.
Genma was pretty sure his left eye was twitching, which might have only been noticeable to him, but then he completely blew any cool factor by coughing, hard. That… was unexpected. And now his lips felt tingly, and puffy, and… he pushed the pipe back when Iruka tried to hand it to him.
“Again,” he said, pointing to his mouth. Inarticulate, yes. But hard to miss his meaning.
"Gods, is the almighty Genma coughing over a little weed?" Iruka snickered into his hand, accepting the pipe. "Shit, man, how old are you?" The snicker didn't stop, turning into a full-blown belly laugh. "Y-y-you... you said... you were a dealer." Iruka set the pipe down carefully so he wouldn't dump the contents on the blanket. "Dude." He leaned against Genma's shoulder, tears running down his face. "Dude."
As soon as Iruka started laughing, Genma snorted, and then coughed again, and then repeated the process until there was literally no new oxygen entering his lungs. “I… you …assfuck bastard…” More snorting, and laughing, and then the deprivation knocked him over and he fell backwards under the weight of Iruka’s head. “Fuck, man. What can I say? It’s good shit.”
Iruka fell with him, carefully landing on his elbow so he didn't smash Genma's shoulder. "It is. Sure you want more? I need you coherent so I can find out about the missing years." He rubbed one hand up and down Genma's chest, trying to soothe the coughing. "I'm not trying to be a dick, Genma. I just want to know. It seems you've been keeping things from me from the beginning."
“Not intentionally. On purpose, I mean. I mean…” Genma trailed off and took the pipe and lighter back from Iruka finally, turning them over in his hand. It felt really good to kind of just spoon up to Iruka like this. Maybe Iruka would understand some of it. Or at least, accept it. Flat on his back, he hit the pipe and held the smoke as long as he could. “I’ll trade you… past details… for…” he exhaled hard. There was no way to joke about it. “For not thinking I’m just some scumbag you’re sorry you ran into again.”
Sighing, Iruka leaned down and brushed his forehead against Genma's shoulder, then grabbed the pipe back. "You could stab me in the heart, Genma, and I still wouldn't be sorry. Dead, most likely, but not sorry." He sat up and lit the pipe again, holding the smoke in until he could see spots behind his eyes. "Hell, if I thought it would help, I would hand you the knife." He smiled to himself because he knew he was being overdramatic, but he didn't know any other way to make Genma understand. "So... USC. What happened?"
"You've prolly had enough stabbing," Genma grinned as he watched Iruka struggle to hold in the smoke. Hell, probably a comment in poor taste... but, there was more than one kind of stabbing, too... he shook his head to jar his brain back on track. "Right, USC. Or, before that... don't suppose you knew I was fucking my high school guidance counselor. I'd never have gotten in on my grades alone, but he managed to make it worth my while - figured out a need-based scholarship and some grants." Genma waited a few seconds to see if this was going to provoke a shocked or disgusted reaction, and when it didn't, he took his turn at the pipe and continued.
"So when I graduated, I figured, you're only gonna get one chance at this, so let's not fuck it up... I was gonna do whatever it took to get through school there. First mistake was moving into my own place. I wasn't the type to be particularly good at managing my own life, like you were. But I made what I thought was my best attempt at it... I mean, I was finally doing stuff I enjoyed, so I put the time in, finished my projects... even won some competition." He didn't add that he no longer remembered what it was for. "But I never had enough money to cover the bills on top of school. And I drank more - like way more than you were used to seeing me do. And too hungover to get to class most mornings, so I'd do whatever I could to get my ass up and moving. Speed, mostly, and some coke... but where I was living, crack was easy to come by... and for awhile I had it all balanced out. Party all night, do a bump in the morning, or smoke, go to class, get my work done... maybe... then out to start it all over again. All kinda ran together after awhile." He scooched down further, fumbling for a blanket. "And that's part one. You want part two, or are you bored yet?"
Iruka shook his head. "Not bored, but... damn, Genma. All of this was going on and you never told me. If I'd known..." He hunched over even more, glazed eyes staring directly at the fire. "If I'd known, there wasn't a damn thing I could've done about it." Working two jobs, mixed up with one of the chefs at the restaurant, he'd seen Genma maybe four times during that period. "So when I had that meltdown in March, and you told me you had time, you really didn't."
Genma shut his eyes for a moment, and then hauled the blanket over himself. Be honest. It's the only thing that might redeem you for being a worldclass fuckup. "Probably not. In all honesty... I don't totally remember. That was kind of right around the time everything all went to shit simultaneously." He realized how big of a deal it had probably been, that he had just dropped out of Iruka’s life at that time, and tried to resist the urge to make excuses. "I may be kind of a failure at recovery, at least in the traditional sense," he smiled lopsidedly as he raised the pipe. "But I did try to own up to all the people I hurt, and make amends. I never did that with you. Will you let me, now? I'm sorry. I'll have time. From now on."
"Nah, it's okay. Just..." Iruka shot a look behind him, watching the fire draw shadows across Genma's face. "If you're in trouble, tell me. If you need to disappear, tell me. That was the hardest part - not knowing."
He lay back, resting his head on Genma's hip and looking up at the sky. Part of him didn't want to know any more, but it was ask now or forever hold his peace. "So, what happened after that? You mentioned jail."
This should’ve seemed harder, but for some reason it was easier. “Well, a few months are a little bit of a blur. I ended up in the hospital once, when I got ahold of some bad shit.” He’d show Iruka the scar on his head another time, it was too nice to have Iruka lying trustingly on him like that. “By then I was dealing, a little bit of everything.” Kinda like now. “Got busted, and pleaded to possession, because the bust was shady. Still went to jail, though. Sixteen months. By then my mom and my sisters weren’t talking to me anymore, so I ended up living in my car in Santa Monica. Worked in some danceclub at night… sometimes I’d sleep there. When I slept.”
Iruka closed his eyes, rolling over a little to face Genma. The blanket was scratchy against his cheek, or maybe it was sand. "That's a long time for possession." He held Genma's eyes for a moment, then dropped them. "So, I'm assuming rehab after that. How did you end up at Nixcore?" He wanted to know more, wanted to ask more, but he was starting to lose focus, and each time he caught Genma's eyes, it seemed less and less important.
Ah, some relief. He could gloss over some of the uglier details. “Nah, rehab was...later. After I got out of jail, I worked at this little club... some director found me and kinda... took a chance on me, even though I was totally fucked up most of the time. He saw something, I guess. And I started working my way through the adult film industry from there. I’ve worked with a couple of the Nixcore people before. It was only a matter of time before it came back around and I got a call. Not that I’m really working yet… I don’t think they know which end is up around there.” By now he was running his fingers through Iruka’s almost-dry hair, over and over.
"Mmmmm. How weird is it we both end up there, huh?" Genma's fingers were hypnotic, that and the fire and the pot and the entire evening conspiring to drag what was left of Iruka's functional mind under the sand. "Should probably watch some of their movies since I'm supposed to maybe be in one of them."
Genma’s fingers moved of their own accord, down from Iruka’s scalp and across the fine bones of his face. “Mmm, dunno. That’s a good idea, and a bad one. You need some sort of exposure to it, but watching won’t give you a good idea what it’s really like to be getting blown on camera. Or whatever.” Tired of seriousness and speculation, Genma’s brain did another flipflop. “I think I have my older digital with me. Want a trial run?” Before Iruka could respond, he considered. “Light’s all wrong, though.”
Chuckling, Iruka turned over onto his stomach and reached an arm out to cover Genma's waist. "You know I have no clue what you're blathering about, right? Perhaps you've forgotten, but the only reason I was even in drama club was..." Iruka laughed again, poking a finger into Genma's ribs. "Ahhh, fuck. What's-her-name. Whatever. I'm not the artist you are, Gen."
“Aaiiiee, Papi, you mean GraciELLLLaaaa?” Genma ruined his bad Latino accent by laughing, partially at himself and partially at Iruka’s tickling. “That bitch was SO not worth your time!” He squirmed to try to avoid the nimble fingers, as the tickling was harder to contend with fucked up than straight. “You met me in drama club! Woulda given you a way better time than that puta, if you’d given me the chance!”
Iruka sat up suddenly and pinned Genma's shoulders to the sand. "So," he smirked, his voice low. "You do remember some things from back then." He tilted his head, remembering that day, how they drank and lay on the beach and talked about everything, then hit on pretty much any girl that walked by until Iruka had to leave. "As I recall, we had a blast." He leaned closer, fingers gripping Genma's shoulders just a little too tightly. "But somehow I don't think that's what you meant just now. So tell me, man. Talk to me like I'm a perejil."
Iruka’s sudden move knocked the wind out of Genma, but he lay back and took in the display with lidded eyes. Iruka’s hands digging into his shoulders made him want to… something. Time to do something.
“You mean get you past any denial you may still be enjoying?” he smirked, and reached up behind Iruka’s head. “Just remember, you asked for it.” And he pulled, through the little bit of resistance he felt, until he felt Iruka’s mouth against his own. No going easy, here… he sucked Iruka’s bottom lip into his mouth.
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read on to: Part 3