FIC: Merry Christmas Yukimura (SanaYuki, Rish)
Title: Merry Christmas, Yukimura
Author: Ociwen
Wordcount: 4500
Rating: Soft R
Disclaimer: Konomi owns all, except Rolan Garros.
Summary: Yukimura learns the True Meaning of Christmas.
Author's Notes: Festive inappropriateness. ^^
1.
On Monday, he and Sanada walk with Renji to the train station after school.
"They predicted 2cm of snow tonight in Aomori," Sanada says. He frowns, in that constipated sort of way that makes Yukimura bite back a smile. He keeps his hands firmly stuffed in his pockets.
It's single digits, and Sanada's hands are blue without mittens on. The canal running parallel to the street across from school had ice forming at the edge this morning. Their breath is brittle, and the cold bites at Yukimura's knees like Guillain Barré used to.
Still, Sanada doesn't blow on his hands. He keeps them at his sides. The only thing he does is frown more when Renji smiles and says something about the powder on the slopes.
Yukimura wonders if it is a discipline sort of thing.
"It's nice that you're doing something," Yukimura says.
Renji shrugs. "As long as my parents are in a separate room. Earplugs only block out sound below 35 decibels."
Yukimura makes a face. A flush creeps up the back of Sanada's neck. It makes Yukimura's pants a little tighter. He stuffs his face into his scarf, and tries to walk it off. His dick just swells even harder.
This time, Yukimura frowns. Dammit! he thinks.
"I did not need to know that," Sanada says. "Parents do not have sex!"
Renji stops. His snort hangs in the frosty air. Then he turns to Yukimura.
"Is he always this naïve?"
Yukimura laughs, nervous and awkward. Renji is the last person he'd want to talk about this with, especially when Renji lifts his head and glances down his nose in that omniscient, smug sort of way, with his lips twisted at the corners.
"You can be replaced," Sanada mutters. Renji shoves an elbow into Sanada's side. His smirk widens.
"You'll miss me," he says. The station looms across the street. A tall woman waves from the exit. Yukimura stops at the crosswalk. He shifts his weight. His balls ache, and his dick's on fire. He tries to pull his coat hem down a little lower.
Renji says goodbye, he'll see them before the New Year. Sanada nods. He doesn't say much, just waves his hand once. Yukimura chews on his lip. He starts to think about the train station, and how quickly the next train in the direction of home will be coming.
Coming…
He clenches his jaw. Don't think about that!
Renji, though, just has that same know-it-all smile. "You two won't miss me," he says. He winks, then runs across the street to meet his mom. They disappear into the crowd streaming out of the station.
Yukimura swallows. He turns to Sanada, and the urge to slip behind a vending machine and shove his hand down his pants gets even stronger.
"Ne," he says. His voice squeaks. He turns red all over. His balls are set to burst. "Sanada, come over to my house tonight." His heart flutters as all the blood in his body rushes below his belt. An OL rushes past Sanada. Sanada brushes his arm. Yukimura's eyes pop out trying to keep himself in check.
Sanada just frowns. "I have homework." He pulls at his ballcap. "See you tomorrow."
***
Yukimura wipes his hand with a kleenex. His room stinks. He blasts the can of Lysol across the room. He coughs. His hand, though, still reeks like spunk.
He sighs.
His phone hums on the desk. Message from Renji, with an attached picture of frosty rice paddies outside some inaka in Gumma or Iwaki or somewhere else equally as gross.
My sister says theres a good love hotel behind the LUCKY YAY DAY pachinko place. It had 95% approval rating on a mixi poll.
Yukimura flips his phone shut. He flops onto his bed, next to the cat, who glares at him with a single eye.
He rubs the top of the cat's head. "Ne, Rolan," he says, "what kind of place do you think Sanada would like to go with me?"
The cat opens the other eye. He yawns, wide and meaty. Yukimura leans back against his pillows. His fingers toy at the waistband of his jeans. His dick is twitching in his underpants again.
With the other hand, he emails Sanada. Three minutes later, a response:
The dojo needs cleaning.
His cellphone beeps before his eyes take in the rest of Sanada's email. He opens it-another email from Renji. There's a website link attached, for a love hotel.
Yukimura chucks his phone across the room. Rolan jumps off the bed and bolts after it. He lets out a groan. He grinds his teeth. He balls his fist and hot tears prick his eyes. "Dammit!" he hisses. "Dammit, Sanada!"
His dick, though, doesn't seem to care.
2.
Sanada is always the first one to come to school. He's there at six twenty, each and every morning.
Yukimura slams his hand down on the alarm at half-past six. He heaves himself out of bed. Rolan weaves between his feet en route to the toilet. He takes his morning pills, takes a shit, and at quarter-past seven, frantically pulls on his school uniform.
He bolts to make the 34 bus, leaving at 7:18. For all he complains about laps and laziness, his morning dash for the bus is as fast as on the tennis court. He stares out the window. He watches the traffic sit idle at the lights. He toys with his phone charms, then emails Sanada Good morning.
He thinks about the one day that he'll set his alarm early, skip to the bus, and pin Sanada down against the bench in the clubhouse. Sanada will lick his ear. Yukimura will shiver. He'll stick his hand down Sanada's trackpants, and they'll rub their dicks together and it'll be amazing. Or messy. Or both.
But that won't be today.
Yagyuu and Jackal are already walking through the school gate. Yukimura runs up behind them. He raises his hands, but Yagyuu turns.
Yukimura deflates. He stuffs his hands back in his pockets. "Morning," he says.
Yagyuu says "Good Morning". Jackal mumbles something under his tube scarf and Cossack hat. Someone else is running laps around the courts. Sneakers slap the clay in perfect, even timing.
Sanada rounds the far court. His cheeks are flushed. Sweat beads along his hairline by his ears, and under his cap. Yukimura's ribs tighten and creak. He touches his chest. His dick wakes up.
"Sanada!" Yukimura shouts.
Sanada's breathing rises and falls with the beat of his sneakers. He runs right past Yukimura without a single word. A rush of heady, sweaty teenage boy flutters Yukimura's hair.
He frowns. He turns to Yagyuu and Jackal, and says, "Fifty laps."
***
At lunch, Marui sidles up to Yukimura. "Any reason for the extra laps?"
Yukimura stabs his fish with the end of his chopstick. His eye twitches. "Our form is atrophying," he lies. His face feels hot all over. It burns hotter when Marui lets out a whistle.
"Can't be good in this weather. Didn't Yanagi say something about optimal training temperatures?"
Yukimura spits out a fish bone. He narrows an eye. "He's not here."
Marui leans back against the lockers. "Yeah, I'm jealous. Ski slopes. Yamagata girls. Moon faces and moonlight soirees in the mixed resort onsen…." He starts to snicker.
Yukimura's chopstick clatters on the ground.
"Speaking of excellent things," Marui says. He waves his hands across the air. His eyes gleam in the track lighting. "Wanna come with me after school?"
"Busy," Yukimura says. He opens his cellphone and starts to type. The shadow of Marui hovers over his keypad. Yukimura looks up.
Marui just waggles his eyebrows, and says "Sure, man. Some other time."
***
The email was the same as always.
In literature: don’t email me during class!!! :<
Then, as soon as the last bell rings: Going on a hike with Grandfather and his friend tonight.
Yukimura snorts. There's not even an apology!
He hangs out by the shoe cubbies. Someone calls his name. He lifts his head.
Marui slides an arm across Yukimura's shoulders. He taps his temple with his other hand. "This genius just knew you'd come around."
***
"The supermarket?" Yukimura asks.
Marui grabs a trolley. "Yeah, don’t you know what day it is?" He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
Yukimura waits. The AKB48 song loops on the intercom. It'll be days before he has it out of his head. He scowls.
"It's the optimum day for Christmas cake buying!" Marui shrieks. He claps his hands together. He bolts down the aisles of tea and rice and mega-size Calpis bottles faster than he ever moves in tennis. Yukimura dodges a manager with a trolley full of tofu. He nearly careens into a display of mandarins.
At the far end of the star, the lights shine down upon a large display, covered in red ribbons and fake pine boughs. There are blinking lights and an inflatable snowman, three feet tall.
Marui gasps. He reaches out for a cake. He holds it aloft for a long moment. Yukimura scratches the back of his neck.
"Look," Marui says, "at the perfect peaks of cream!"
Yukimura looks.
"Look! At these luscious, gleaming berries!"
Yukimura looks. He raises an eyebrow.
Marui inhales so deep, he has to step backward. "Look at the perfect calligraphic words spelling out, MARY Crisumasu!"
Yukimura raises his second eyebrow. He folds his arms across his chest. Marui cradles the cake in his arms a moment longer. The plastic reindeer on the cake start to lurch. Gingerly, he places the cake into the trolley. The plastic lid shines.
"That," Marui says at last, "is the true purpose of Christmas."
"To eat cake?" He blinks. Yukimura blinks a second time. His belly tightens. So do his balls. He shakes his head. "You're wrong."
It's Marui's turn to blink.
Yukimura shifts his eyes. A woman pushes a trolley past them. His face pinkens as he leans close.
"It's to get laid," he whispers.
Marui turns to him. Their faces are inches apart. Close enough for Yukimura to smell the Starbucks on Marui's breath.
"Dude," Marui says. He bursts out laughing.
"You're totally wrong! The true meaning of Christmas is cake and KFC Chicken Dinner! Just like Americans!"
3.
"Don’t listen to a word Bunta says," Jackal says. "I mean, about Christmas."
Yukimura grabs his tennis bag. Niou and Yagyuu are still in the showers. Sanada's on the courts, pushing the broom.
Yukimura cups his hands around his mouth. "Sanada!"
The broom stops. Sanada squints.
"Ramen?" Yukimura shouts. Under his scarf his neck burns. His dick stiffens, too. The last time after they went for ramen, Yukimura's parents were out. He pulled at Sanada's collar. Sanada pushed him into the flatscreen. Their tongues were tangled up, and Sanada's knee shoved between Yukimura's legs when the crash exploded through the room.
And the leaded glass bowl from Hungary was scattered in a hundred pieces across the floor.
Luckily, Rolan was around.
This afternoon Sanada just says, "No. I'm busy." There is a short pause. "I have to help my mother with the groceries." He starts to push the broom across the baseline. There's nothing on the courts except a few late leaves, and a few stray candy wrappers.
Yukimura's chest deflates. Jackal pats his shoulder. "We can get some grub at my dad's restaurant," he says. "They do the fish special on Wednesdays. We can eat in the back for free."
Yukimura reaches into his pocket. His wallet is flat. He nods once, with a sigh. "Okay."
Jackal's dad's restaurant is a few blocks from school, past the fabric store, and the streets filled with post-war concrete apartment blocks. Yukimura sticks close to Jackal.
The restaurant is called El Rio. Jackal says something about the name not being very authentic. A ring goes off. Yukimura looks at Jackal. The music keeps playing. Jackal looks at him.
"It's not my ring tone," Yukimura says.
"It's Lady Gaga," Jackal says. "Poker Face. And it's coming from your bag."
Yukimura unzips the bag. The uniform looks familiar, but the foam darts definitely are not. Neither is the silver cellphone with the Stitch charm. Yukimura flips it open. "Hello?"
"You have it," Niou says. There's a second voice in the background. Then Niou says, "Don't touch anything. Bring my bag tomorrow and I won't tell Sanada about the brochure."
Yukimura thinks for a moment. "Brochure?" The word sinks in. Then hot shame fills his gut. "Fine," he says.
Niou hangs up. Jackal raises his eyebrows. "Niou?"
"How'd you guess?"
Jackal holds up a DVD case of The Sound of Music. On the top corner is a big glittery heart tag that says, For Hiro.
Yukimura just says, "Oh."
Jackal smiles a little. "I had to help pick it out."
Yukimura zips the bag up, with the DVD inside. His own phone is safely ensconced in his pocket, with no new emails from Sanada. The restaurant is just around the corner of a chain sushi place. Pink salmon and creamy yellowtail float by through the window. Yukimura licks his lips. Jackal says, "Come on," and grabs Yukimura's arm.
Jackal yanks open the door of El Rio. A bell chimes. The place is dimly lit. No one else is here. Yukimura creeps across El Rio's threshold. The only light is from behind a closed door: silhouetted like an eclipse. There's a bang, then a clatter of tin pots. A voice shouts, then the door bursts open with the thick, savoury smell of garlic and tomato and fish and Yukimura breathes it all in deep.
A man in grubby white shouts at Jackal. Jackal shouts back, all smiles. He turns to Yukimura, "This is Felipe. He's from Recife."
"Okay," Yukimura says. Felipe holds out a hand. It's meaty and gleams with sweat. Carefully, Yukimura extends his own hand. Felipe practically crushes his knuckles in a handshake.
"He says it's shrimp and okra tonight," Jackal says. He rubs his stomach and says something in Brazilian. Yukimura shifts his weight. He rocks back on his heels and rather wishes he could go and drop Niou's bag off now-ish.
Until there's a plate in front of him. Of steaming shrimp and okra in soupy sauce, piled onto a heap of rice. Jackal dives into with a spoon. Yukimura takes a deep breath, then he shoves his spoon in deep. Sweet coconut milk glides over his tongue, just as velvety as Sanada. The shrimp are tender, bursting under his teeth. Yukimura leans back and moans. From his milk crate seat, Jackal does the same.
"Good, huh?" he says.
Yukimura nods.
"It's even better at Christmas," Jackal says. He wipes the corners of his mouth with his sleeve. "The restaurant does this whole spread of stuff for the Dekasegi. Ham and beans and shrimp and the biggest pineapples we can get. Last year they roasted a pork leg. Passionfruit mousse…" Jackal's eyes roll back as the smile spreads across his face. "It was awesome. My mom helped with the flower arrangements, you know."
Felipe walks by, spewing more gobbledegook at Jackal. He waves his ladle and shouts some more. Yukimura polishes off the last shrimp. He lets out a belch, and leans back on the milk crate.
"Wanna help?" Jackal asks.
"With what?" Yukimura asks.
"Decorating."
Yukimura grins. "Do you even need to ask?"
Felipe descends into a storeroom and returns with a large box. Jackal pulls out tangled strings of fairy lights. Yukimura pulls the other end. Jackal stands on the tables to tack the lights to the restaurant wall, and Yukimura unwinds the strings from the floor.
"Marui said the true meaning of Christmas is cake," Yukimura says. "I thought it was something…" He bites his lip and tries not to think of the soft place under Sanada's jaw. Or behind his ear. Or…
"Yeah," Jackal says. "It's Jesus' birthday."
"Jesus?"
Jackal rolls his eyes. "Duh."
Yukimura unknots the next metre of lights. "Oh. So he comes here for the party? I went to primary school with him, you know. Jesus "
Jackal's end of the lights clatters to the table. "What?"
Yukimura stares right back at Jackal. "Sakai Jesus. He was a hafu, just like you. I didn't know it was his birthday."
Jackal stills for a moment, then he laughs. He slaps his thigh and shakes his head. "No, no, no! I mean, the Jesus on the cross!"
"The guy on the cross, like in your apartment?"
"Yeah, you know. His birthday. Jesus."
Yukimura shakes his head. "I thought the guy on the cross was called God."
Jackal facepalms. "Just…" He shakes his head behind his hand. "Just…never mind. Christmas is that dude's birthday. The guy on the cross."
Yukimura hands Jackal more fairy lights. "I'll remember that," he says. He pats his pocket. His cellphone is warm against his leg. "And I'll remember to send Jesus a birthday email, too."
4.
Yukimura hands the bag to Niou. Niou narrows his eyes. He doesn't bother with an apology, just a "Pupina~!"
Yukimura thinks it sounds rather Brazilian.
"Ne," he says, "what are you doing this weekend?" He peels off his sneakers.
Niou looks up from sifting through his bag. "Nothing."
Yagyuu walks into the clubhouse. He sets his bag on the bench, next to Yukimura. "Ah, Niou-kun," he says, "I can come to your place on Saturday at two."
Yukimura looks at Niou. Niou looks away.
"Yagyuu," Yukimura says, "what is the meaning of Christmas?"
Yagyuu blinks. He pushes his glasses up his nose. Niou slams the toilet door and makes raspberry noises behind it. Yagyuu frowns. He turns to Yukimura.
"To spend time with…" His face looks a little flushed. Yukimura rubs his chin. "Ah…friends."
"Boyfriends and girlfriends?" Yukimura asks.
Yagyuu makes a strange little coughing noise. "Something like that," he mumbles.
Yukimura opens his mouth just as the clubhouse door is flung open. Sanada stomps in. He takes one look at Yukimura. Then he takes a longer look at Yagyuu. Then he listens to the explosive raspberry Niou lets rip from behind the toilet stall door.
Sanada stomps right back outside.
5.
On the last day of school before winter holidays-and coincidentally, Christmas Eve-Sanada doesn't even bother to eat lunch with them.
Yukimura sighs. He rests his chin on his hand, and stirs his chopstick through the spaghetti and burdock soup. He sighs again when Jackal walks by, says he's eating with Mika, and disappears. His shoulders sink when Marui sits down across the table.
"I have a DVD. Of Miss Japan 2010," he says. Marui chortles to himself, and adds, "The hentai version."
Yukimura slurps at a noodle. "That's nice," he mumbles.
"Totally!" Marui says. "She was a former member of SKE48! Idols gone wild!"
Niou and Yagyuu join them. Niou switches Yagyuu's cafeteria tray with his own. He eats the meat bun, and switches them back to eat his meat bun too. Yagyuu says nothing, except, "Yukimura-kun?"
Marui nods to Niou. "I think he's bummed."
Niou looks at him.
Marui says, "It's not a bad thing, you know."
"What?" Yukimura says.
"To be single on Christmas Eve."
Yagyuu and Niou share a brief glance. Yukimura frowns. Marui grabs him by the chin and lifts his head up.
"You are the last person I would have expected to say that, Marui-kun," Yagyuu says.
Marui huffs. "Duh, everyone knows that flyin' solo just means it's time for por-"
Kirihara jumps onto the table. "OH MY GOH!!!" he shrieks. He lets out another unintelligible scream and bounces off the table. Marui grabs him by the collar.
"Chill, man!" he says.
Kirihara's toddlerfist clocks Marui in the cheek. "AAAAAH!!"
Niou grabs Kirihara by the back of his collar. He hoists Kirihara two inches off his feet. Marui rubs his face and sniffles.
Kirihara's grin is blinding. Yukimura stands up. He looks at Kirihara. Kirihara stops vibrating, but his grin remains.
"Buchou?"
"Akaya?"
"It's Christmasu tomorrow!" Kirihara says.
Yukimura sighs. "I know."
Kirihara shivers. He shakes and squirms and more animalistic noises escape his mouth. "You know what that means today is?"
"Time to sing Heartbreak Hotel?" Niou asks.
Yukimura narrows his eyes. He ignores Marui's snigger behind his back. Kirihara's vapid expression doesn't flicker.
"SANTA COMES TONIGHT!"
A collective "Ah" escapes all of them.
"So you don't care about the important things, like…" Yukimura coughs, "getting laid?"
Kirihara's face falls. Then he grimaces. "Gross! No! The most important part about Christmas is SANTA BRINGING ME PRESENTS!"
Yukimura thinks to himself. Then he takes his tray to the stacked carts, and goes to spend the last ten minutes of lunch in the rooftop garden until his fingers are numb. On his way back to his classroom, he can hear Kirihara's excited shrieks echoing in the hallway.
***
So he walks to the bookstore after class. There's a five thousand note burning a hole in his pocket. The only thing he has to look forward to tomorrow is a doctor's appointment at eleven, and maybe a round of slam the ball into the retainer wall behind the alley after that.
At the back of the shop, past the DIY rows packed with homely girls in fur suits and Mori skirts, are the art books. Last week, there was a single copy of the Pisarro monograph. 4500 yen. Sanada looked bored, but he said nothing as Yukimura open the cover. He breathed in the smell of new book: crisp and inky and velvety smooth.
Yukimura stares at the shelf.
There is a hole, 3cm wide.
He swallows. His heart skips a beat. He checks the shelf above, and the shelf below.
Yukimura takes a deep breath. He squeezes his eyes tight, and balls his fist. His eyes sting. His breath hitches.
He's an utter fool.
Dammit dammit DAMMIT!
***
His mom smiles and asks how his day way. Yukimura stomps into the kitchen. He looks around. There's nothing remotely festive about the bowl of leftover fish stew on the table.
He slumps into his chair and glares at the rice. His mom hums an old enka song. Yukimura grits his teeth.
His phone rings. Yukimura flips it open.
Sanada says hi.
Yukimura's eyes widen. Then, they narrow. "What do you want?" he snaps. His mom watches him, so he ducks his head and hisses, "It's suppertime!"
Sanada coughs. He mumbles something about Yukimura coming over, for dinner at his place.
He mutters an apology, too.
Yukimura snorts. Sanada is quiet. After a moment, Yukimura says, "Fine!"
There's a soft sigh on the other end when Yukimura adds, "I'll be a half hour."
The food at Sanada's place is better anyway.
6.
Yukimura knows something is up when he steps off the bus and Sanada is waiting for him. They climb the hill together, under the brittle branches of the zelkovas. There's frost in the air and the ground crunches underfoot. Out in the mountains, Yukimura can almost see the pinpricks of stars above.
Sanada is awfully quiet. Yukimura glares at the back of Sanada's head. Fool! he thinks. If Sanada hadn't been so cantankerous and busy, maybe they could have done something more than hang out in the dojo, where Sasuke always insists they play tag.
Yukimura huffs. His breath leaves a plume in the air. Sanada hesitates a step. He starts to turn around, but then he walks a little faster. Yukimura jogs to keep up.
At the door, Sanada whips out his key. The lights are warm, and soften the darkness.
"What are you doing?" Yukimura asks.
The keys jingle. The door opens. Sanada just says, "Um…"
There isn't a single sound in the house, except the squeak of the floor under Yukimura. The door shuts with a click.
"Sanada?" Yukimura asks. He scrunches up his forehead.
He can hear Sanada swallow. Sanada unwinds his scarf. His cheeks and nose are flushed.
Yukimura shifts his eyes down the corridor to the kitchen. Sanada's mom should be there.
But she's not.
Yukimura glances down at the floor. There are two pairs of sneakers, and seven sets of slippers. There's a poinsettia in the alcove, draped in strings of silver. Below it, there is a book-shaped object wrapped in gold paper.
Yukimura looks at Sanada. His insides feel a little warm, and a little fuzzy,
Sanada holds out a garland of flowers. The cheap kinds that ganguros buy in Tokyu Hands and Harajuku, all pastel blues and beige.
Yukimura doesn't take it. "What's that for?" he asks.
Sanada shifts his weight from foot to foot. His throat bobs again. He clears it, twice. "Akaya said they give them out at Christmas."
Yukimura blinks. Sanada drapes the lei over his head. Then he drapes a mauve one over himself.
All Yukimura can say is, "Oh."
"There's…no one home," Sanada says.
The words hang between them. Yukimura tries to close his mouth. Sanada reaches out. He touches Yukimura's chin with his fingers-cold and shaky and brushing across his jaw.
"It's Christmas Eve," Sanada mutters. He leans into Yukimura's space. They back up, a step, into the wall. Yukimura's hands drift to Sanada's waist. He sneaks his fingertips under the hem of Sanada's shirt, where his skin is hot.
He sighs into Sanada's shoulder. He thinks, I'm the idiot. There's a hardness pressed up against his thigh. He pushes his hips forward, too. He sucks in a breath as his erection stiffens on Sanada's body.
"I…" Yukimura shakes his head. He smiles at himself. He smiles as those familiar lips touch his jaw. He tilts his head, closes his eyes, and sinks into the soft, little kisses Sanada presses across his skin.
"Niou told me about the brochure."
Yukimura stiffens. Sanada's hot laughter blows across his collarbone. "It was nothing," Yukimura says. Shame burns all the way down to his toes. Sanada kisses a little lower.
"Maybe…" Sanada's fingers push Yukimura's shirt. His teeth nip at Yukimura's shoulder. Yukimura moans. "Maybe we can go somewhere like…that sometime."
"A love hotel?" Yukimura asks.
Sanada doesn't answer. He pulls back. Yukimura looks into his pupils. He shivers. Sanada turns his head away from the gaze. He coughs. "I have-there's kamaboko in the fridge."
Yukimura laughs. "Pink kind?"
Sanada says yes. Yukimura punches his arm. "I like fish," he says. "So we feast on…kamaboko?"
Yagyuu and Niou will be having hot pot, or maybe yakiniku tonight. Jackal will be having his Brazilian ham and pineapples and rice and beans and coconuts. And he and Sanada get to eat fish cakes? Yukimura shrugs his shoulders. Sanada's hand slithers across his back. His eyes rest on Yukimura's mouth. That hard bulge on Yukimura's legs grows.
Sanada jerks Yukimura even closer.
"No," he says. He breathes into Yukimura's ear. Yukimura's eyes bulge as a hot, wet tongue snakes down his ear lobe.
His underpants bulge too. A little noise escapes his mouth. His legs are turning to jelly. He shivers.
There's a smirk on Sanada's lips when he says, "I'll make ramen."
Author: Ociwen
Wordcount: 4500
Rating: Soft R
Disclaimer: Konomi owns all, except Rolan Garros.
Summary: Yukimura learns the True Meaning of Christmas.
Author's Notes: Festive inappropriateness. ^^
1.
On Monday, he and Sanada walk with Renji to the train station after school.
"They predicted 2cm of snow tonight in Aomori," Sanada says. He frowns, in that constipated sort of way that makes Yukimura bite back a smile. He keeps his hands firmly stuffed in his pockets.
It's single digits, and Sanada's hands are blue without mittens on. The canal running parallel to the street across from school had ice forming at the edge this morning. Their breath is brittle, and the cold bites at Yukimura's knees like Guillain Barré used to.
Still, Sanada doesn't blow on his hands. He keeps them at his sides. The only thing he does is frown more when Renji smiles and says something about the powder on the slopes.
Yukimura wonders if it is a discipline sort of thing.
"It's nice that you're doing something," Yukimura says.
Renji shrugs. "As long as my parents are in a separate room. Earplugs only block out sound below 35 decibels."
Yukimura makes a face. A flush creeps up the back of Sanada's neck. It makes Yukimura's pants a little tighter. He stuffs his face into his scarf, and tries to walk it off. His dick just swells even harder.
This time, Yukimura frowns. Dammit! he thinks.
"I did not need to know that," Sanada says. "Parents do not have sex!"
Renji stops. His snort hangs in the frosty air. Then he turns to Yukimura.
"Is he always this naïve?"
Yukimura laughs, nervous and awkward. Renji is the last person he'd want to talk about this with, especially when Renji lifts his head and glances down his nose in that omniscient, smug sort of way, with his lips twisted at the corners.
"You can be replaced," Sanada mutters. Renji shoves an elbow into Sanada's side. His smirk widens.
"You'll miss me," he says. The station looms across the street. A tall woman waves from the exit. Yukimura stops at the crosswalk. He shifts his weight. His balls ache, and his dick's on fire. He tries to pull his coat hem down a little lower.
Renji says goodbye, he'll see them before the New Year. Sanada nods. He doesn't say much, just waves his hand once. Yukimura chews on his lip. He starts to think about the train station, and how quickly the next train in the direction of home will be coming.
Coming…
He clenches his jaw. Don't think about that!
Renji, though, just has that same know-it-all smile. "You two won't miss me," he says. He winks, then runs across the street to meet his mom. They disappear into the crowd streaming out of the station.
Yukimura swallows. He turns to Sanada, and the urge to slip behind a vending machine and shove his hand down his pants gets even stronger.
"Ne," he says. His voice squeaks. He turns red all over. His balls are set to burst. "Sanada, come over to my house tonight." His heart flutters as all the blood in his body rushes below his belt. An OL rushes past Sanada. Sanada brushes his arm. Yukimura's eyes pop out trying to keep himself in check.
Sanada just frowns. "I have homework." He pulls at his ballcap. "See you tomorrow."
***
Yukimura wipes his hand with a kleenex. His room stinks. He blasts the can of Lysol across the room. He coughs. His hand, though, still reeks like spunk.
He sighs.
His phone hums on the desk. Message from Renji, with an attached picture of frosty rice paddies outside some inaka in Gumma or Iwaki or somewhere else equally as gross.
My sister says theres a good love hotel behind the LUCKY YAY DAY pachinko place. It had 95% approval rating on a mixi poll.
Yukimura flips his phone shut. He flops onto his bed, next to the cat, who glares at him with a single eye.
He rubs the top of the cat's head. "Ne, Rolan," he says, "what kind of place do you think Sanada would like to go with me?"
The cat opens the other eye. He yawns, wide and meaty. Yukimura leans back against his pillows. His fingers toy at the waistband of his jeans. His dick is twitching in his underpants again.
With the other hand, he emails Sanada. Three minutes later, a response:
The dojo needs cleaning.
His cellphone beeps before his eyes take in the rest of Sanada's email. He opens it-another email from Renji. There's a website link attached, for a love hotel.
Yukimura chucks his phone across the room. Rolan jumps off the bed and bolts after it. He lets out a groan. He grinds his teeth. He balls his fist and hot tears prick his eyes. "Dammit!" he hisses. "Dammit, Sanada!"
His dick, though, doesn't seem to care.
2.
Sanada is always the first one to come to school. He's there at six twenty, each and every morning.
Yukimura slams his hand down on the alarm at half-past six. He heaves himself out of bed. Rolan weaves between his feet en route to the toilet. He takes his morning pills, takes a shit, and at quarter-past seven, frantically pulls on his school uniform.
He bolts to make the 34 bus, leaving at 7:18. For all he complains about laps and laziness, his morning dash for the bus is as fast as on the tennis court. He stares out the window. He watches the traffic sit idle at the lights. He toys with his phone charms, then emails Sanada Good morning.
He thinks about the one day that he'll set his alarm early, skip to the bus, and pin Sanada down against the bench in the clubhouse. Sanada will lick his ear. Yukimura will shiver. He'll stick his hand down Sanada's trackpants, and they'll rub their dicks together and it'll be amazing. Or messy. Or both.
But that won't be today.
Yagyuu and Jackal are already walking through the school gate. Yukimura runs up behind them. He raises his hands, but Yagyuu turns.
Yukimura deflates. He stuffs his hands back in his pockets. "Morning," he says.
Yagyuu says "Good Morning". Jackal mumbles something under his tube scarf and Cossack hat. Someone else is running laps around the courts. Sneakers slap the clay in perfect, even timing.
Sanada rounds the far court. His cheeks are flushed. Sweat beads along his hairline by his ears, and under his cap. Yukimura's ribs tighten and creak. He touches his chest. His dick wakes up.
"Sanada!" Yukimura shouts.
Sanada's breathing rises and falls with the beat of his sneakers. He runs right past Yukimura without a single word. A rush of heady, sweaty teenage boy flutters Yukimura's hair.
He frowns. He turns to Yagyuu and Jackal, and says, "Fifty laps."
***
At lunch, Marui sidles up to Yukimura. "Any reason for the extra laps?"
Yukimura stabs his fish with the end of his chopstick. His eye twitches. "Our form is atrophying," he lies. His face feels hot all over. It burns hotter when Marui lets out a whistle.
"Can't be good in this weather. Didn't Yanagi say something about optimal training temperatures?"
Yukimura spits out a fish bone. He narrows an eye. "He's not here."
Marui leans back against the lockers. "Yeah, I'm jealous. Ski slopes. Yamagata girls. Moon faces and moonlight soirees in the mixed resort onsen…." He starts to snicker.
Yukimura's chopstick clatters on the ground.
"Speaking of excellent things," Marui says. He waves his hands across the air. His eyes gleam in the track lighting. "Wanna come with me after school?"
"Busy," Yukimura says. He opens his cellphone and starts to type. The shadow of Marui hovers over his keypad. Yukimura looks up.
Marui just waggles his eyebrows, and says "Sure, man. Some other time."
***
The email was the same as always.
In literature: don’t email me during class!!! :<
Then, as soon as the last bell rings: Going on a hike with Grandfather and his friend tonight.
Yukimura snorts. There's not even an apology!
He hangs out by the shoe cubbies. Someone calls his name. He lifts his head.
Marui slides an arm across Yukimura's shoulders. He taps his temple with his other hand. "This genius just knew you'd come around."
***
"The supermarket?" Yukimura asks.
Marui grabs a trolley. "Yeah, don’t you know what day it is?" He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
Yukimura waits. The AKB48 song loops on the intercom. It'll be days before he has it out of his head. He scowls.
"It's the optimum day for Christmas cake buying!" Marui shrieks. He claps his hands together. He bolts down the aisles of tea and rice and mega-size Calpis bottles faster than he ever moves in tennis. Yukimura dodges a manager with a trolley full of tofu. He nearly careens into a display of mandarins.
At the far end of the star, the lights shine down upon a large display, covered in red ribbons and fake pine boughs. There are blinking lights and an inflatable snowman, three feet tall.
Marui gasps. He reaches out for a cake. He holds it aloft for a long moment. Yukimura scratches the back of his neck.
"Look," Marui says, "at the perfect peaks of cream!"
Yukimura looks.
"Look! At these luscious, gleaming berries!"
Yukimura looks. He raises an eyebrow.
Marui inhales so deep, he has to step backward. "Look at the perfect calligraphic words spelling out, MARY Crisumasu!"
Yukimura raises his second eyebrow. He folds his arms across his chest. Marui cradles the cake in his arms a moment longer. The plastic reindeer on the cake start to lurch. Gingerly, he places the cake into the trolley. The plastic lid shines.
"That," Marui says at last, "is the true purpose of Christmas."
"To eat cake?" He blinks. Yukimura blinks a second time. His belly tightens. So do his balls. He shakes his head. "You're wrong."
It's Marui's turn to blink.
Yukimura shifts his eyes. A woman pushes a trolley past them. His face pinkens as he leans close.
"It's to get laid," he whispers.
Marui turns to him. Their faces are inches apart. Close enough for Yukimura to smell the Starbucks on Marui's breath.
"Dude," Marui says. He bursts out laughing.
"You're totally wrong! The true meaning of Christmas is cake and KFC Chicken Dinner! Just like Americans!"
3.
"Don’t listen to a word Bunta says," Jackal says. "I mean, about Christmas."
Yukimura grabs his tennis bag. Niou and Yagyuu are still in the showers. Sanada's on the courts, pushing the broom.
Yukimura cups his hands around his mouth. "Sanada!"
The broom stops. Sanada squints.
"Ramen?" Yukimura shouts. Under his scarf his neck burns. His dick stiffens, too. The last time after they went for ramen, Yukimura's parents were out. He pulled at Sanada's collar. Sanada pushed him into the flatscreen. Their tongues were tangled up, and Sanada's knee shoved between Yukimura's legs when the crash exploded through the room.
And the leaded glass bowl from Hungary was scattered in a hundred pieces across the floor.
Luckily, Rolan was around.
This afternoon Sanada just says, "No. I'm busy." There is a short pause. "I have to help my mother with the groceries." He starts to push the broom across the baseline. There's nothing on the courts except a few late leaves, and a few stray candy wrappers.
Yukimura's chest deflates. Jackal pats his shoulder. "We can get some grub at my dad's restaurant," he says. "They do the fish special on Wednesdays. We can eat in the back for free."
Yukimura reaches into his pocket. His wallet is flat. He nods once, with a sigh. "Okay."
Jackal's dad's restaurant is a few blocks from school, past the fabric store, and the streets filled with post-war concrete apartment blocks. Yukimura sticks close to Jackal.
The restaurant is called El Rio. Jackal says something about the name not being very authentic. A ring goes off. Yukimura looks at Jackal. The music keeps playing. Jackal looks at him.
"It's not my ring tone," Yukimura says.
"It's Lady Gaga," Jackal says. "Poker Face. And it's coming from your bag."
Yukimura unzips the bag. The uniform looks familiar, but the foam darts definitely are not. Neither is the silver cellphone with the Stitch charm. Yukimura flips it open. "Hello?"
"You have it," Niou says. There's a second voice in the background. Then Niou says, "Don't touch anything. Bring my bag tomorrow and I won't tell Sanada about the brochure."
Yukimura thinks for a moment. "Brochure?" The word sinks in. Then hot shame fills his gut. "Fine," he says.
Niou hangs up. Jackal raises his eyebrows. "Niou?"
"How'd you guess?"
Jackal holds up a DVD case of The Sound of Music. On the top corner is a big glittery heart tag that says, For Hiro.
Yukimura just says, "Oh."
Jackal smiles a little. "I had to help pick it out."
Yukimura zips the bag up, with the DVD inside. His own phone is safely ensconced in his pocket, with no new emails from Sanada. The restaurant is just around the corner of a chain sushi place. Pink salmon and creamy yellowtail float by through the window. Yukimura licks his lips. Jackal says, "Come on," and grabs Yukimura's arm.
Jackal yanks open the door of El Rio. A bell chimes. The place is dimly lit. No one else is here. Yukimura creeps across El Rio's threshold. The only light is from behind a closed door: silhouetted like an eclipse. There's a bang, then a clatter of tin pots. A voice shouts, then the door bursts open with the thick, savoury smell of garlic and tomato and fish and Yukimura breathes it all in deep.
A man in grubby white shouts at Jackal. Jackal shouts back, all smiles. He turns to Yukimura, "This is Felipe. He's from Recife."
"Okay," Yukimura says. Felipe holds out a hand. It's meaty and gleams with sweat. Carefully, Yukimura extends his own hand. Felipe practically crushes his knuckles in a handshake.
"He says it's shrimp and okra tonight," Jackal says. He rubs his stomach and says something in Brazilian. Yukimura shifts his weight. He rocks back on his heels and rather wishes he could go and drop Niou's bag off now-ish.
Until there's a plate in front of him. Of steaming shrimp and okra in soupy sauce, piled onto a heap of rice. Jackal dives into with a spoon. Yukimura takes a deep breath, then he shoves his spoon in deep. Sweet coconut milk glides over his tongue, just as velvety as Sanada. The shrimp are tender, bursting under his teeth. Yukimura leans back and moans. From his milk crate seat, Jackal does the same.
"Good, huh?" he says.
Yukimura nods.
"It's even better at Christmas," Jackal says. He wipes the corners of his mouth with his sleeve. "The restaurant does this whole spread of stuff for the Dekasegi. Ham and beans and shrimp and the biggest pineapples we can get. Last year they roasted a pork leg. Passionfruit mousse…" Jackal's eyes roll back as the smile spreads across his face. "It was awesome. My mom helped with the flower arrangements, you know."
Felipe walks by, spewing more gobbledegook at Jackal. He waves his ladle and shouts some more. Yukimura polishes off the last shrimp. He lets out a belch, and leans back on the milk crate.
"Wanna help?" Jackal asks.
"With what?" Yukimura asks.
"Decorating."
Yukimura grins. "Do you even need to ask?"
Felipe descends into a storeroom and returns with a large box. Jackal pulls out tangled strings of fairy lights. Yukimura pulls the other end. Jackal stands on the tables to tack the lights to the restaurant wall, and Yukimura unwinds the strings from the floor.
"Marui said the true meaning of Christmas is cake," Yukimura says. "I thought it was something…" He bites his lip and tries not to think of the soft place under Sanada's jaw. Or behind his ear. Or…
"Yeah," Jackal says. "It's Jesus' birthday."
"Jesus?"
Jackal rolls his eyes. "Duh."
Yukimura unknots the next metre of lights. "Oh. So he comes here for the party? I went to primary school with him, you know. Jesus "
Jackal's end of the lights clatters to the table. "What?"
Yukimura stares right back at Jackal. "Sakai Jesus. He was a hafu, just like you. I didn't know it was his birthday."
Jackal stills for a moment, then he laughs. He slaps his thigh and shakes his head. "No, no, no! I mean, the Jesus on the cross!"
"The guy on the cross, like in your apartment?"
"Yeah, you know. His birthday. Jesus."
Yukimura shakes his head. "I thought the guy on the cross was called God."
Jackal facepalms. "Just…" He shakes his head behind his hand. "Just…never mind. Christmas is that dude's birthday. The guy on the cross."
Yukimura hands Jackal more fairy lights. "I'll remember that," he says. He pats his pocket. His cellphone is warm against his leg. "And I'll remember to send Jesus a birthday email, too."
4.
Yukimura hands the bag to Niou. Niou narrows his eyes. He doesn't bother with an apology, just a "Pupina~!"
Yukimura thinks it sounds rather Brazilian.
"Ne," he says, "what are you doing this weekend?" He peels off his sneakers.
Niou looks up from sifting through his bag. "Nothing."
Yagyuu walks into the clubhouse. He sets his bag on the bench, next to Yukimura. "Ah, Niou-kun," he says, "I can come to your place on Saturday at two."
Yukimura looks at Niou. Niou looks away.
"Yagyuu," Yukimura says, "what is the meaning of Christmas?"
Yagyuu blinks. He pushes his glasses up his nose. Niou slams the toilet door and makes raspberry noises behind it. Yagyuu frowns. He turns to Yukimura.
"To spend time with…" His face looks a little flushed. Yukimura rubs his chin. "Ah…friends."
"Boyfriends and girlfriends?" Yukimura asks.
Yagyuu makes a strange little coughing noise. "Something like that," he mumbles.
Yukimura opens his mouth just as the clubhouse door is flung open. Sanada stomps in. He takes one look at Yukimura. Then he takes a longer look at Yagyuu. Then he listens to the explosive raspberry Niou lets rip from behind the toilet stall door.
Sanada stomps right back outside.
5.
On the last day of school before winter holidays-and coincidentally, Christmas Eve-Sanada doesn't even bother to eat lunch with them.
Yukimura sighs. He rests his chin on his hand, and stirs his chopstick through the spaghetti and burdock soup. He sighs again when Jackal walks by, says he's eating with Mika, and disappears. His shoulders sink when Marui sits down across the table.
"I have a DVD. Of Miss Japan 2010," he says. Marui chortles to himself, and adds, "The hentai version."
Yukimura slurps at a noodle. "That's nice," he mumbles.
"Totally!" Marui says. "She was a former member of SKE48! Idols gone wild!"
Niou and Yagyuu join them. Niou switches Yagyuu's cafeteria tray with his own. He eats the meat bun, and switches them back to eat his meat bun too. Yagyuu says nothing, except, "Yukimura-kun?"
Marui nods to Niou. "I think he's bummed."
Niou looks at him.
Marui says, "It's not a bad thing, you know."
"What?" Yukimura says.
"To be single on Christmas Eve."
Yagyuu and Niou share a brief glance. Yukimura frowns. Marui grabs him by the chin and lifts his head up.
"You are the last person I would have expected to say that, Marui-kun," Yagyuu says.
Marui huffs. "Duh, everyone knows that flyin' solo just means it's time for por-"
Kirihara jumps onto the table. "OH MY GOH!!!" he shrieks. He lets out another unintelligible scream and bounces off the table. Marui grabs him by the collar.
"Chill, man!" he says.
Kirihara's toddlerfist clocks Marui in the cheek. "AAAAAH!!"
Niou grabs Kirihara by the back of his collar. He hoists Kirihara two inches off his feet. Marui rubs his face and sniffles.
Kirihara's grin is blinding. Yukimura stands up. He looks at Kirihara. Kirihara stops vibrating, but his grin remains.
"Buchou?"
"Akaya?"
"It's Christmasu tomorrow!" Kirihara says.
Yukimura sighs. "I know."
Kirihara shivers. He shakes and squirms and more animalistic noises escape his mouth. "You know what that means today is?"
"Time to sing Heartbreak Hotel?" Niou asks.
Yukimura narrows his eyes. He ignores Marui's snigger behind his back. Kirihara's vapid expression doesn't flicker.
"SANTA COMES TONIGHT!"
A collective "Ah" escapes all of them.
"So you don't care about the important things, like…" Yukimura coughs, "getting laid?"
Kirihara's face falls. Then he grimaces. "Gross! No! The most important part about Christmas is SANTA BRINGING ME PRESENTS!"
Yukimura thinks to himself. Then he takes his tray to the stacked carts, and goes to spend the last ten minutes of lunch in the rooftop garden until his fingers are numb. On his way back to his classroom, he can hear Kirihara's excited shrieks echoing in the hallway.
***
So he walks to the bookstore after class. There's a five thousand note burning a hole in his pocket. The only thing he has to look forward to tomorrow is a doctor's appointment at eleven, and maybe a round of slam the ball into the retainer wall behind the alley after that.
At the back of the shop, past the DIY rows packed with homely girls in fur suits and Mori skirts, are the art books. Last week, there was a single copy of the Pisarro monograph. 4500 yen. Sanada looked bored, but he said nothing as Yukimura open the cover. He breathed in the smell of new book: crisp and inky and velvety smooth.
Yukimura stares at the shelf.
There is a hole, 3cm wide.
He swallows. His heart skips a beat. He checks the shelf above, and the shelf below.
Yukimura takes a deep breath. He squeezes his eyes tight, and balls his fist. His eyes sting. His breath hitches.
He's an utter fool.
Dammit dammit DAMMIT!
***
His mom smiles and asks how his day way. Yukimura stomps into the kitchen. He looks around. There's nothing remotely festive about the bowl of leftover fish stew on the table.
He slumps into his chair and glares at the rice. His mom hums an old enka song. Yukimura grits his teeth.
His phone rings. Yukimura flips it open.
Sanada says hi.
Yukimura's eyes widen. Then, they narrow. "What do you want?" he snaps. His mom watches him, so he ducks his head and hisses, "It's suppertime!"
Sanada coughs. He mumbles something about Yukimura coming over, for dinner at his place.
He mutters an apology, too.
Yukimura snorts. Sanada is quiet. After a moment, Yukimura says, "Fine!"
There's a soft sigh on the other end when Yukimura adds, "I'll be a half hour."
The food at Sanada's place is better anyway.
6.
Yukimura knows something is up when he steps off the bus and Sanada is waiting for him. They climb the hill together, under the brittle branches of the zelkovas. There's frost in the air and the ground crunches underfoot. Out in the mountains, Yukimura can almost see the pinpricks of stars above.
Sanada is awfully quiet. Yukimura glares at the back of Sanada's head. Fool! he thinks. If Sanada hadn't been so cantankerous and busy, maybe they could have done something more than hang out in the dojo, where Sasuke always insists they play tag.
Yukimura huffs. His breath leaves a plume in the air. Sanada hesitates a step. He starts to turn around, but then he walks a little faster. Yukimura jogs to keep up.
At the door, Sanada whips out his key. The lights are warm, and soften the darkness.
"What are you doing?" Yukimura asks.
The keys jingle. The door opens. Sanada just says, "Um…"
There isn't a single sound in the house, except the squeak of the floor under Yukimura. The door shuts with a click.
"Sanada?" Yukimura asks. He scrunches up his forehead.
He can hear Sanada swallow. Sanada unwinds his scarf. His cheeks and nose are flushed.
Yukimura shifts his eyes down the corridor to the kitchen. Sanada's mom should be there.
But she's not.
Yukimura glances down at the floor. There are two pairs of sneakers, and seven sets of slippers. There's a poinsettia in the alcove, draped in strings of silver. Below it, there is a book-shaped object wrapped in gold paper.
Yukimura looks at Sanada. His insides feel a little warm, and a little fuzzy,
Sanada holds out a garland of flowers. The cheap kinds that ganguros buy in Tokyu Hands and Harajuku, all pastel blues and beige.
Yukimura doesn't take it. "What's that for?" he asks.
Sanada shifts his weight from foot to foot. His throat bobs again. He clears it, twice. "Akaya said they give them out at Christmas."
Yukimura blinks. Sanada drapes the lei over his head. Then he drapes a mauve one over himself.
All Yukimura can say is, "Oh."
"There's…no one home," Sanada says.
The words hang between them. Yukimura tries to close his mouth. Sanada reaches out. He touches Yukimura's chin with his fingers-cold and shaky and brushing across his jaw.
"It's Christmas Eve," Sanada mutters. He leans into Yukimura's space. They back up, a step, into the wall. Yukimura's hands drift to Sanada's waist. He sneaks his fingertips under the hem of Sanada's shirt, where his skin is hot.
He sighs into Sanada's shoulder. He thinks, I'm the idiot. There's a hardness pressed up against his thigh. He pushes his hips forward, too. He sucks in a breath as his erection stiffens on Sanada's body.
"I…" Yukimura shakes his head. He smiles at himself. He smiles as those familiar lips touch his jaw. He tilts his head, closes his eyes, and sinks into the soft, little kisses Sanada presses across his skin.
"Niou told me about the brochure."
Yukimura stiffens. Sanada's hot laughter blows across his collarbone. "It was nothing," Yukimura says. Shame burns all the way down to his toes. Sanada kisses a little lower.
"Maybe…" Sanada's fingers push Yukimura's shirt. His teeth nip at Yukimura's shoulder. Yukimura moans. "Maybe we can go somewhere like…that sometime."
"A love hotel?" Yukimura asks.
Sanada doesn't answer. He pulls back. Yukimura looks into his pupils. He shivers. Sanada turns his head away from the gaze. He coughs. "I have-there's kamaboko in the fridge."
Yukimura laughs. "Pink kind?"
Sanada says yes. Yukimura punches his arm. "I like fish," he says. "So we feast on…kamaboko?"
Yagyuu and Niou will be having hot pot, or maybe yakiniku tonight. Jackal will be having his Brazilian ham and pineapples and rice and beans and coconuts. And he and Sanada get to eat fish cakes? Yukimura shrugs his shoulders. Sanada's hand slithers across his back. His eyes rest on Yukimura's mouth. That hard bulge on Yukimura's legs grows.
Sanada jerks Yukimura even closer.
"No," he says. He breathes into Yukimura's ear. Yukimura's eyes bulge as a hot, wet tongue snakes down his ear lobe.
His underpants bulge too. A little noise escapes his mouth. His legs are turning to jelly. He shivers.
There's a smirk on Sanada's lips when he says, "I'll make ramen."