(no subject)
Title: If Cats Could Talk, They Wouldn't
Pairing/Group: Aiba Masaki/Ninomiya Kazunari
Rating/Warnings: R; fellatio and masturbation
Word Count: ~8300
Summary: Aiba Masaki finds a boy.
Notes: Finally remembered to repost this from the je_fqfest. XD; The title is taken from a Nan Porter quote, and has very little to do with the story. Oh, and if the writing reminds you of say, a poor attempt at Conan-Doyle's style, it's because I was reading Sherlock Holmes at the time. Many thanks to dmajor7th for betaing and my roomie for giving me the ending.
Aiba Masaki perched on the sill of a heavily draped window, looking out at the sun-warmed garden. It was a rare perfect day and at that moment he wished, as he never had before, that he could be a flower.
Two young women chose that moment to pass in front of him, making him straighten automatically in spite of his day dreaming. Aiba tugged at his starched collar, attempting to flatten it and draw his attention from the outdoors at the same time. The two women were already gone, drinks in hand and fans a-flutter, probably to seek a more eligible bachelor. Aiba sighed his annoyance and fixed his cuff. Whose idea had it been to have a midday party indoors, anyway? They were wasting perfectly good sunlight when they could as easily have gathered at night.
And this wasn't even a friend's house.
"Well you seem to be in good cheer."
Aiba turned to face Sakurai Sho, the one highlight of the party - and likely the reason he had been invited at all. Dog breeders unaffiliated with high-born names generally had little to do with the parties of the aristocracy. The Sakurai's had no time for dogs, being a family of politicians and lawyers, but Sho had been Aiba's friend for as long as Aiba could remember. Sho wasn't truly a year older than himself, but he'd always been so far ahead of Aiba in his studies that it often felt like there was a difference of three years between them. (In fact, Sho had helped Aiba with his studies more often than not as they went up the school's ladder together.)
Aiba beamed to see him. "Sho!"
Sho smiled. "That's more like it. I thought you'd like this place. It's quite open."
"I should like it more if we were out in that open. What good is a garden if you can't appreciate it up close?"
Sho's smile turned more amused. "It might have something to do with the rain forecast."
Aiba pouted. Trust the weather-men to forecast rain. Half the time they were wrong, anyway, and he told Sho so. Sho just shrugged halfheartedly.
"It would be most inconvenient for all involved in the event that it turned out to be correct today. Imagine all the women amidst the fuss."
Imagine it Aiba did, and found he had a hard time containing his laughter. He would quite like to see such a fuss. Penance for keeping him locked indoors on such a lovely afternoon. And worse, he'd not be able to escape until evening, when the other guests would finally start to take their leave. Aiba hated to think of the puppies waiting for so long for their daily play.
Sho reached out and pressed his elbow. "Come. Let's get you fixed up with a drink and you'll have a chance at charming some winsome beauty."
Aiba let himself be led away from the window to the banqueting table. It was dressed in a chintz cloth for the occasion and laid with the best silver trays the Wainwrights owned. Each tray bore plates of finger sandwiches - three varieties in all - or tarts and biscuits, or small meat pies for the hungrier among the men. Aiba helped himself to several biscuits. He put several more into his overcoat pocket. Sho motioned to a servant, bringing the man swiftly to their side.
"Two cups of tea and two fingers of brandy."
Aiba waited until the servant had gone to raise an eyebrow at Sho. "So soon in the day?"
"At a party such as this, it can't be soon enough," Sho rejoined. His eyes sparkled with his personal amusement, and Aiba laughed. Aiba selected a delicate salmon sandwich lifting it to his lips. His eyes strayed to the window across from them. The sandwich stopped before it could enter his open mouth, and his mouth stayed open. Sho favored Aiba with a confused glance.
"What is it?"
"Do you see that?" Aiba asked.
It had started to rain, and Sho made note of the fact. Aiba shook his head impatiently. "No, no. Not the rain. The boy."
"Boy?"
Startled, Sho took a longer look out the window. A boy, dressed in drab grey, huddled under a trellis. It was hard to tell anything about him save that he must be male. Sho frowned. "Unless the Wainwright's have changed the gardener's uniform, that's not a servant, and I don't believe they have a son. What on earth is he doing here?"
Aiba shook his head slowly. He didn't know, either. A roll of thunder came and went. The boy huddled closer to the trellis during it. When it was over he pushed himself to his feet and moved on, though he stumbled along as he did.
"Your tea, sir."
Aiba nearly jumped out of his boots. No matter how many parties Sho's name got him an invite to, he'd never be used to the silent way servants would slip up behind him. Sho was hardly phased, taking his tea cup and finger.
"Carter, have there been new hires lately?" he asked.
"No, sir, not since the page boy last year," the servant replied.
"Thank you, Carter."
Aiba took his tea and finger and the servant melted away. He frowned. Sho raised his cup to his lips, took a sip, and turned to Aiba. "We should alert someone."
Sho was right. There was no reason why they should do anything else - the boy was trespassing and perhaps not in his right mind. He tossed back the brandy and put his teacup on the table.
"Cover for me. I'm going to see if he needs help."
Sho didn't have time to protest before Aiba was gone.
------
By the time Aiba managed to make his excuses to stray guests, gather his waterproof and hat, and sneak away from the Wainwright estate entrance, the gardens were inundated with mud and puddles. He'd seen the strange boy in the lily garden from the window, but by the time Aiba arrived there was nothing but footprints. Aiba sighed heavily and pressed on. He walked in a long, shallow slope, peering over hedges and bushes, looking for any hit of grey amongst the carefully manicured green. He hoped the boy hadn't gone far; he didn't like to think what would happen if the boy was discovered by a servant or one of the Wainwright's themselves.
When the rain had become little more than mist, Aiba finally found his grey mixed in with the late summer roses. The boy had made his way so far off the walking path that Aiba had almost given him up for a phantom, but there he sat, huddled under a stone arch, his head bowed over his knees and his feet pulled in close to his bum. He wasn't wearing shoes of any sort.
His hair was black, and his wrists were skinny. He shivered and was clearly trying to fit himself under the arch in the hope that the rain would miss him. He reminded Aiba of a small lost cat that Aiba had found once, in much the same condition.
Aiba approached, scuffing his boots into the rain-soaked gravel, and stopped with about a foot of distance still between them. The boy didn't look up, but he shifted his head enough that one eye could peek out. Aiba saw it flick quickly from his boots up to his face. He knelt and smiled.
"I'm Aiba Masaki."
The boy stared at him from that one eye, partially under cover from longish black hair. It was hard to tell if the boy was dumb or simply silent. Aiba tilted his head. "Who are you?"
No answer. Aiba frowned. "Do you work here?"
The boy shook his head. Aiba inched closer. "I didn't think so. Do you know where you are?"
Again, the boy shook his head. Aiba sighed. "You're in the rose garden of the Wainwright estate, and you could be in trouble if they find you. How did you come here?"
The boy shrugged, but said nothing. Now Aiba frowned. He rocked back on his heels, leaving his hands in the open. "I can't help you if you don't answer."
But again the boy said nothing; only looked at Aiba warily. Aiba hummed to himself as he thought. How to get the boy to trust him? He couldn't leave the poor thing to be found by a servant and thrown into the nearest jail. But how to get the boy to answer him, let along leave with him?
Then Aiba brightened. He stood and lifted aside his coat, then stuck his hand into his overcoat pocket. The boy flinched away from him as soon as he stood, and had pressed himself entirely against the wall of the arch by the time Aiba removed a biscuit from his pocket. Like a skittish dog.
Aiba stilled immediately and lowered himself slowly to his knees, his hands held out in placation. When he spoke again, his voice was nearly a coo. "I'm sorry. I'm not going to bring you any harm." Aiba clucked his tongue absently and held out the hand with the biscuit. "Here, aren't you hungry?"
The boy's head came up again; properly, this time, without hiding half in his knees and half under his hair. His features were thin, and his skin pale and unblemished, so that Aiba's eyes would have been drawn to the mole on his chin almost immediately. Would have been, except for the boy's eyes. Caramel-colored, they were bright with intelligence but hard and cold, glinting in the misty rain. They met Aiba's gaze when they flicked from the biscuit in Aiba's hand to Aiba's eyes and back.
Aiba very nearly lost his breath.
The boy's eyes still held a wary light, but they were hungry, too; and in Aiba's experience, hunger always won in the end. He smirked triumphantly. He moved slowly, closing the gap between them. The boy's eyes stayed on the biscuit.
"Go on, take it. I've got more and you look like you could-- "
A small, pale hand shot out and snatched the biscuit away before Aiba could finish, leaving Aiba blinking down at his empty palm. He laughed softly. "-- Use a snack, if not a meal," he finished. He tilted his head. "Don't eat it too fast. You'll choke."
The boy, already chewing, looked at Aiba suspiciously. Aiba just smiled. "I have more. Would you like another?"
It took hardly a second for the boy's gaze to shutter, guarding his thoughts. He saw watching Aiba like he was waiting for the trick to be exposed. Aiba felt dizzy watching it. He moved slowly and deliberately, keeping his hands where the boy could see them as much as possible. He withdrew his hand from his pocket and held the biscuit out.
"Here you go."
This time the boy's hand didn't quite snatch and his eyes stayed on Aiba's face. Aiba made sure to keep smiling in the wake of those hard, glinting eyes. He shifted a little, watching the boy eat his biscuit. The boy followed him carefully.
"Where do you come from?" Aiba asked.
The boy shrugged. He shoved the remaining biscuit into his mouth. Aiba rested his cheek on a loose fist. "Not from around here if you don't know the Wainwrights, I'll guess. How old are you? Seventeen?"
The boy made a face. Aiba laughed and said, "So then?" He was rewarded with a twenty traced over the wet ground. "Twenty..." he murmured. "I'm twenty-one. Twenty-two this December."
He received no reply, but he hadn't much expected one. The silence was irritating nonetheless, and worse for his inability to get the boy to offer anything other than the weight of his cold, bright gaze. Aiba sighed and stood. "I'll leave you be, then. I had been going to invite you back with me for a bath, if you'd wanted it, but if you don't want a roof and a real meal then I won't waste my time."
And he turned as if to leave, starting to take his first step. He was prevented from doing so by a hand clutching his ankle. Aiba grinned to himself. He composed his face and turned to look down.
The boy stared at his knees, but his knuckles were white. Aiba knelt again. "Do you want to come with me?"
The boy spent so long looking at him before he nodded that Aiba thought he'd have to pick him up and carry him off. But nod the boy did, and Aiba reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair back from his sharp features. Then he pried the boy's small hand away from his boot. The action was met with a guilty, perhaps hurt, flinch, but Aiba held the hand gently. As he waited for the boy to look at him he examined the pale hand. It seemed somehow smaller how that Aiba had something to compare it to.
Sho would adore it, Aiba thought. "All right, then."
He stood and pulled the boy to his feet; the boy swayed violently, making Aiba scramble to catch him.
"What's wrong?" Aiba asked, "Are you hurt?" He received a nod and swore softly. There was no time or place to check for the injury here. Aiba looked down, trying to see the boy's face. "Can you walk?"
Another nod. Aiba wrapped his arms carefully around thin shoulders and led him slowly away. Aside from clinging to the front of Aiba's jacket, the boy was otherwise able to make his wobbly way along.
"Can you tell me your name?" Aiba asked. "I can't just call you 'You'."
The boy didn't do anything for a long time. At last he shook his head. Aiba frowned and squeezed his bony shoulder. "If you don't tell me I'm going to have to make up a name for you."
The prospect didn't appear to bother the boy terribly much - he shrugged in the face of Aiba's threat. Aiba clucked his tongue and gave an emphatic sigh to let him know exactly what he thought of such stubbornness. "Very well. Then I'm going to call you Princess."
The boy's head snapped up, his face screwed up with dislike. Aiba gave the boy his best look of innocence, batting his eyelashes for good measure. There was silence, then the boy's face returned to composed neutrality and he shrugged. That settled the matter. Aiba led him to the front of the Wainwrights' property and whistled for the page boy to call the next cab. He brought Princess under shelter of the guard house until the cab pulled up. The door opened and he bundled Princess inside.
"Let's go home, Princess."
------
The door of the Aiba family house opened to reveal Aiba's butler (and maid, and secretary, and general surrogate mother). Aiba watched Jun's eyes fly immediately to Princess, huddled against Aiba's side and shivering with chill. Jun gave Aiba his most unimpressed stare.
"This is Princess," Aiba said cheerfully. "He'll be staying with us."
"And did Princess have any say in the matter, sir?" Jun asked dryly.
"I found him huddled in the rain in the Wainwrights's rose garden and he has quite refused to speak to me. Unless you can speak silence and head nods, he certainly hasn't had a say. He did come willingly, however, so I shall take that to mean he doesn't mind. And anyway he needs a warm bath and a warmer meal. Heat the water for him, won't you, Jun?"
"Very good, sir."
Jun disappeared into the house and Aiba looked down at Princess as he led the boy inside. Princess was peering into the house while trying not to look like he was, and when he felt Aiba's eyes upon him, Princess turned quickly to glower at him. Aiba chuckled.
"Come now, don't be like that. You can't sit down to eat without washing and you refuse to tell me your name. Either come out with it or learn to respond to Princess."
Princess walked to Aiba's pristine reception couch. He looked Aiba in the eye and very slowly, very deliberately seated himself. Aiba frowned deeply at him. "I will tell the cook that you have declined to eat if you don't stand in the next five seconds."
Stubborn defiance drained from Princess's eyes all at once, leaving him to stare blankly. Aiba went to him with his hand out. "Princess, come. Bathe and I'll feed you. I'll take care of you."
Silence greeted him, but wariness was creeping into Princess's gaze again. Aiba came to the conclusion that such a look was not right upon the boy's face, but he was also in little mood to be trifled with. He moved his hand closer and firmed his voice.
"Or you can refuse my hospitality and you may show yourself to the door."
Princess's lips drew down into a pouting frown and his eyes hardened, but there was consideration behind the petulance. Aiba gave him what time he needed to think. Slowly, very carefully, Princess reached for his hand. Aiba allowed a grin to stretch his lips. He pulled Princess up.
"Let me show you around while Jun gets the water warming."
The house was not overly large, nor was it in the center of town; indeed, Aiba's parents had chosen the place for being on the fringes of the city. It was more grounds than house, if one looked at it. The back opened into an acre of land, perfect for training and allowing the dogs to play in.
The dogs started baying as soon as Aiba opened the backdoor to show Princess the green lawn, well appointed with trees. Princess jumped and pressed his face to Aiba's shoulder. Aiba chuckled and stroked the back of Princess's neck soothingly.
"Don't worry about them. They're puppies, and very friendly. My family grooms show dogs for the wealthy. You can imagine an ill temper wouldn't be appreciated. And anyway they're in their pound."
Princess relaxed and peeked around Aiba's arm. Aiba threaded his fingers into Princess's hair. "I won't release them for their exercise until later."
The boy nodded. Aiba led him back inside, taking him through the kitchens, the larder, and the laundry in the basement, the reception salon, dining room and smoking room on the first floor ("The bathroom is back there, but we'll let Jun be for now."), and the master bedroom and guestrooms on the second floor.
"Jun and the servants sleep upstairs," Aiba was saying when Jun's head appeared around the banister.
"The water is ready, sir."
Aiba smiled. "Thank you, Jun." He turned and held his hand out to Princess. "Come, Princess. Let's get you a nice bath."
Princess took his hand and Aiba led him to the bathroom. His family had become rich enough to afford indoor plumbing about the time of his grandfather, though they had never bothered to look into the indoor heating options that were recently in fashion. A fire under the tub was just as good, as his mother had liked to say. Princess followed Aiba willingly if not enthusiastically.
When they reached the bathroom Aiba held the door open for him. "You know how to bathe, don't you?"
Princess gave him a Look and Aiba laughed. He closed the door behind the boy. Jun stood to the side, waiting.
"Has Ohno begun dinner?"
"Are you certain this is wise, sir?" Jun asked instead.
Aiba shrugged and offered his butler a careless smile. "What kind of harm could he be, skinny thing that he is?"
Jun offered Aiba he flattest stare in return. "Your name is not unknown and your considerable family wealth not unheard of, sir."
"A thief with a pretty face like that? Pish." Aiba waved his arm at Jun. "He's a stray, Jun. He needs someone to take care of him until we can set about finding his home."
Jun pursed his lips. Aiba shrugged again, waving at him once more. "Go on, make sure that his dinner is being prepared. Not too large, nutritious as we have, and allow several biscuits for dessert. None of those digestives, mind."
Jun sighed. "Yes, sir."
"Have the tray brought up to my rooms," Aiba added, "I don't want Princess subjected to unwanted attention."
Jun gave him a look like that was exactly what he would have desired the boy be subjected to, but he said nothing. Aiba knocked on the door of the bathroom. "Are you finished, Princess?"
There was no answer, of course, and Aiba hadn't been expecting one. He smiled. "I'm coming in."
Aiba opened the door. Princess was still sitting in the tub; in fact he was curled around himself in the exact middle of it, with his arms wrapped around his knees. Aiba furrowed his brow at the boy.
"Have you washed?"
Princess nodded. His eyes were heavy on Aiba's face. Aiba came closer. "Come out then."
Princess frowned, curling up tighter around himself. Aiba paused and crossed his arms, mimicking the frown. "If I give you a towel, will you come out?"
Princess's lips pursed and twisted, and he shook his head.
"This is not going to work, Princess. Either you will have to start talking, or you will have to do as I say. Am I going to have to send you to the police?" Aiba asked mildly.
Princess looked up at him with wide eyes, lips falling into a shocked 'o'. He shook his head quickly. Aiba leaned on the side of the bathtub and gave Princess the saddest look he could muster. He kept his voice steady and gentle.
"I found you sneaking about the Wainwrights's garden. You won't talk to me. You won't do what I say. I can't take care of you if you won't follow my instructions. I'm not going to hurt you."
Princess looked unconvinced. Aiba lowered his voice further, smiling comfortingly. "Jun's going to bring your dinner to my rooms. Nobody will stare or interrogate you. You won't have to talk." He held out his hand. "Come with me?"
The silence that followed was one of Princess's considering silences. Aiba watched thoughts flicker back and forth behind his eyes, though he could hardly tell one from the other. He waited patiently. Finally, Princess lifted a hand from the water and held it out. Aiba took it, beaming, and helped Princess to stand and get out of the bathtub. His elation quickly turned to horror.
"Princess! Your back!"
Princess turned away hurriedly, but it was too late. Aiba had seen the whiplashes across the skinny expanse of the boy's back, and had seen them long enough to know that not all of them were old. Aiba held Princess's hand tightly in one of his and tilted his chin up gently with the other. Princess met his gaze very hesitantly, and Aiba nearly melted.
"Is this why you were wandering?"
Princess bit his lip. He nodded.
"Do they hurt?"
The boy shook his head. Aiba sighed softly. He turned, placing his hand absently on the back of Princess's neck and rubbing his nape while he picked up the towel Jun had left.
"Let me dry you and we'll go up for dinner."
If Princess found the plan disagreeable, he made no indication of it. Aiba placed the towel over Princess's shoulders and began patting dry his skin very carefully. The boy was in worse condition than any of his stray dogs; but though Princess tensed several times, no sound of pain escaped and he made no move to stop Aiba's progress.
When they were nearly done, Aiba draped the towel over Princess's shoulders and patted the top of his head gently. "Jun left you clothes. Can you dress yourself?"
Princess nodded. Aiba smiled. He retrieved the clothes from the small table they'd been left on and gave them to Princess. The clothes were from Jun's own closet by the looks of them, but they were in every way better than the rain-soaked grey cloth the boy had been wearing. Princess handled them with ease, even with his back looking like it did. Aiba narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
When Princess was dressed, Aiba took his hand. "You should eat."
He brought Princess up to his rooms. Dinner waited on two trays in his office, set on the coffee table and pulled up close to the fireplace, where a fire crackled invitingly at them. Outside it was growing dark, making the room seem smaller, but Jun would be coming with the oil lamps soon enough. Aiba smiled and crossed over, sitting down as he lifted the cover from the tray. A simple fare of sandwiches and soup puree greeted him; the second tray proffered a tea pot, two cups, and a plate of biscuits. Aiba clucked his tongue.
"I may have just come from a party, but I didn't order tea. I wanted dinner, even if it would be the same a last night."
But Princess's eyes were locked on the tray and Aiba didn't have the heart to send it back and make him wait. He patted the seat next to him, smiling when Princess took it. Aiba scratched his fingers through Princess's damp hair absently.
"Help yourself," he said, selecting a sandwich of his own. "I'd start with the soup so it doesn't get cold."
Princess nodded and picked up his spoon. Aiba had finished his soup and two sandwich halves when he looked at Princess and realized that the boy had eaten his soup and nothing else. Aiba offered him a sandwich half, but Princess stopped him with a hand on his wrist.
Princess's palm was warm and calloused. Aiba ignored it in favor of looking pointedly at him. "Princess, you're stick-thin. I should be stopping you from trying to eat too much."
Princess shook his head.
"You can't tell me that that is all you're going to eat!"
Princess nodded. Aiba frowned. "Don't you talk, Princess?"
The boy shook his head. He wouldn't look at Aiba. Aiba found himself wondering if that was the truth. He let it slide. "You can eat, you know. Nobody will hurt you for it."
Princess shook his head again. Aiba knew he should be offended. Loose with etiquette though he knew society thought him, he had never seen someone brush off hospitality so casually. He had never hosted a boy he'd found huddled in the rain, either, much less one who bore signs of abuse and didn't talk.
"Are you tired?" Aiba asked. "The guest room isn't made up yet, but so long as you're good you can sleep here."
He said it with a smile, but Princess didn't smile back. Just looked at him with heavy, steady eyes. Aiba swallowed. "Or if you're not tired we could do something. You could tell me about yourself, or I could tell you about me, or--"
Princess stood and Aiba shut his mouth so quickly that his teeth clicked. He watched as the boy carefully moved the coffee table to the side, out of the way. Then Princess came to stand in front of him. Aiba's eyes never left the boy's face, though his face was dark and unreadable in the firelight and he never looked at Aiba. The boy touched Aiba's knees with the tips of his fingers, but Aiba felt it so heavily that his knees fell away from each other.
"What--"
Princess dropped to the floor. He moved his hands slowly, sliding them up from Aiba's knees to his thighs and swiftly undoing Aiba's trouser laces. Suddenly Aiba understood, and understood that this was wrong. He needed to stop it. He opened his mouth to speak --
Princess finally lifted his eyes to meet Aiba's. Aiba found his breath taken and his voice lost. The boy's eyes glinted in the darkening light. His hand was dry and warm when short fingers wrapped around Aiba's penis.
Aiba lifted his hips towards that warmth. In spite of himself, he wondered if Princess's mouth wouldn't be just as warm. If his tongue would be as careful as his fingers. His body responded to the careful ministrations like they never had to anything Aiba had ever done with the girls he'd courted casually. Princess stroked Aiba now, twisting his wrist around Aiba's hard cock, and his gaze dropped away from Aiba's face. Aiba bit back a groan - he wanted the boy's eyes back.
"P-princess..."
Princess's eyes came back, locked, dark and searching, onto Aiba's face. Time slowed, or maybe stopped. Aiba couldn't breathe. Warmth had pooled into his groin and become an unbearable throb. Princess waited, but for what Aiba didn't know. He swallowed, trying to get his breath back. He needed to tell Princess to stop. He couldn't remember how to form words.
Princess removed Aiba's cock from within the confines of his pants and licked up the length of it. Aiba moaned. His eyes fluttered and his breath came back in a long rush. Aiba felt dizzy - from pleasure or air he couldn't say.
"Princess--"
The boy wrapped his small hand around the base of Aiba's penis once again, taking the head of it into his mouth. Aiba bit down hard on his lip. His hands clutched at the couch cushion convulsively. If there ever had been a time to turn back, it was lost to him.
Aiba let Princess continue to take him in, moaning all the while. He didn't know if that encouraged the boy or not, but Princess began to suck, swirling his tongue in abstract rhythms over Aiba's sensitized cock. He tried not to thrust into the inviting warmth, but then Princess's teeth brushed over the vein as his head bobbed. Aiba cried out, all but falling over the back of the couch. Princess's tongue pressed wet heat over the scrape.
Aiba keened. "Princess-- fucking--"
His hand met something silky and soft. He cracked an eye open and realized that his hand was cupped around the back of Princess's head. The boy's mouth worked him; his cheeks hollowed and the suction increased. Aiba felt like his insides had been tied in knots.
"I'm close--"
Princess continued to suck him, his tongue employed against Aiba's frenulum when his head pulled back or pressing tight to the vein when he came forward again. Aiba groaned and shuddered. It had been so long... too long...
"Princess-- please-- so good--"
The boy said nothing. He tilted his head and moved a little back, and his hand returned to replace his mouth at the base of Aiba's penis. Aiba's hand clutched the back of his head and he saw white when he came.
It was a long while before Aiba could gather the will to open his eyes. When he finally did, Princess stared up at him. They watched each other in utter silence. His lips and face were clean, and Aiba realized he hadn't heard the sound of spitting. His head felt fuzzy with the realization. He removed his hand from the back of Princess's head and cupped his jaw tenderly.
"Princess..."
Princess shook his head. He stood. Aiba stood quickly, forgetting that his pants were not done, and he was hanging free in a manner most embarrassing, and grabbed the boy's wrist.
"I'm sorry. I should have stopped you," he said, "I'll have the guest room set up."
He left quickly and didn't look back. His first stop was to find Jun (Jun was having an argument with Ohno about that night's dinner being bangers and mash for the fifth night) to have the dinner trays taken away and the guest room set up. His second stop was the bathroom, where he locked himself in, sat himself on the toilet, and stared at nothing for a very long time.
Princess was still standing in the middle of Aiba's office when Aiba returned. Aiba avoided looking at him as much as he could.
"The room is ready," he said. "Jun will show you. I'll see you in the morning."
Princess looked at Aiba - Aiba could feel the weight of his gaze - for a long time. Then he left without a word.
------
Finding Princess the next day was like seeking a blade of grass in a field - both Jun and Ohno had seen him awake as early as they, had in fact taken breakfast with him, but Aiba could find him nowhere all morning. Princess was not in his guest room, not in the dining room, not in the kitchen, not in Aiba's rooms (and Aiba was not sure if he was relieved or not). The maid professed to having seen him out back, but when Aiba went to look for himself there was no sign of the boy. Yet Jun and Ohno would swear the boy came to take his lunch in the kitchens later.
"Tell him that I do not approve of his disappearing act," Aiba said, annoyed, "And that he should take his meals with his host should he care to stay."
He turned to go, only to nearly trip over the subject of his search. "There you are!" he exclaimed. "I've been looking for you all day!"
Princess bowed his head to the floor, looking rather like a guilty puppy. Aiba sighed. He reached out and petted Princess's soft hair.
"You shouldn't disappear like that. If you are looking for something to do or eat - anything at all - tell me."
The boy nodded. Aiba smiled and petted him again, fingers curling into dark locks. "Good." He paused then, stroking Princess's hair absently. "Let's go for a walk, shall we?"
Princess peeked up at him. Aiba smiled encouragingly and held out his hand. A moment later he wrapped his fingers around Princess's smaller ones and pointedly ignored Jun and Ohno exchanging a look - Ohno's face passive as always but Jun's doing little to conceal surprise. Aiba led the boy to the front door, pulling a pair of his boots from the cupboard.
"We'll have to get you some clothes of your own, eh?" he said cheerfully.
Princess just looked at him, eyes dark and serious. He slipped his feet into Aiba's boots - several sizes too large - and wrapped himself up in the waterproof Aiba gave him. It might not rain again, but clouds still covered the sun and it was best to be prepared. Aiba dressed and opened the door for them. He took Princess down the front to the road leading to town. One hand strayed and took the boy's small hand. Aiba pretended not to see the sharp look Princess gave him.
The road to town was lined with trees and wildflowers, and bushes of blackberries that Aiba had loved to pick as a child. (He still did, when he had the chance.) He reached out to pluck one and popped it in his mouth, and immediately made a face.
"Not in season," he managed, voice pitched high and mouth twisted.
The corners of Princess's lips curled up. His entire face transformed with the smile, becoming softer. Prettier. Aiba quickly forgot the sour taste in his mouth and grinned. "You smiled!"
Immediately Princess's face smoothed out again and his eyes reflected his unsureness, but Aiba was too busy pulling the boy into his arms in delight. He pulled away a moment later and ruffled Princess's hair, still smiling himself. "Keep smiling, Princess. It suits you."
He turned away to continue their walk. He missed Princess's whole posture become bashful.
------
Aiba went to bed alone again, feeling far better than he had the night before. He lay awake in the dark for a while, listening to the faint sounds of the puppies in training yipping as they played in their pen, the insects and owls outside, and the otherwise still house. It was in that stillness that Aiba began to drift in contentment. It had been a good day, after all. He had gotten Princess to smile. Though Princess had not been quick to smile even after Aiba's encouragement, nor did he smile widely, Aiba had counted four separate smiles during their walk.
Each smile seemed to take years off his face, making him appear younger than his professed 20 years. (Aiba had wondered more than once today if Princess wasn't in fact 17 like he had guessed.) He still marveled how Princess's face changed with a smile, how his angles softened and his eyes brightened and lost their guardedness.
Aiba wondered what Princess would look like smiling with Aiba rather than at him. Did he have different types of smiles? He was clearly no stranger to sex - thinking about Princess on his knees sent a thrill through Aiba that he would rather not acknowledge - what would he look like were he to smile in the midst of pleasure? What would it feel like to put such a smile on his face?
The door opened. Lost in fantasy, Aiba didn't hear it. He pressed down into the sheets and let his hand stray towards his groin. What would Princess look like with his eyes unguarded? His hair spread over the pillow, dark against the white sheets; his legs and arms open and welcoming...
Aiba wrapped his hand around his penis. He bit down on his lip to keep from making a sound and stroked himself. He could see Princess's smile, could see Princess's thin lips stretch over white teeth, could see his eyes light up with affection. Princess might be drawn out of his silence, even if it was just enough to allow a whimper, a moan of satisfaction.
Aiba grunted his displeasure. Stroking wasn't enough - not with Princess's warmth so near, heavy and yet intangible. Aiba froze. His eyes snapped open.
Princess's eyes glittered back at him in the dark.
Aiba struggled to sit up. "What are you doing?"
The boy tilted his head. His hand lifted, slowly, and settled over Aiba's. Aiba jerked. He moved, trying to put all the distance between himself and Princess that he could even as Princess followed him forward. Aiba shook his head. "Stop it. Stop it, Princess."
Princess leaned close. Aiba gave a startled noise. His hand flailed out and struck Princess across the face, drawing down from forehead to chin - in fact flattening the boy's hair over his face. It would have been comical if Aiba hadn't immediately felt so guilty. He brought his hand back quickly. Princess didn't move so much as a finger to fix himself. Aiba bit down on his lip.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that."
Princess stayed silent, looking at Aiba through his hair. His eyes were cold again. Aiba moved slowly, keeping his hand where Princess could see it, and brushed the boy's hair back. Princess tensed but Aiba ignored it. He stroked Princess's cheek.
"You don't have to do this," he said. "I brought you here to get you out of the rain, not to force you into bed." Princess's stare was level. Aiba smiled. "It's okay if you don't believe me just yet. I'll show you. Go to sleep, okay?"
He fluffed his pillow and made himself ready to ignore the throbbing in his groin (dull and easily forgettable now) and sleep. Princess didn't move. Aiba regarded him. Princess's brow was furrowed and his lips pushed into a thoughtful pout.
"Won't you sleep?" Aiba asked softly.
Princess shook his head.
"Why not? Is guest room not to your liking?"
Another shake of the head. Aiba blew out a breath. It would be useless to ask what was wrong with the room and he was ill-prepared to play guessing games. He pouted his lips back at Princess.
"Would you rather stay here and I'll take the guest room?"
Princess didn't move for a while. Then he gave a very small, but very definite shake of his head. Aiba blinked rapidly. He sucked in a breath and ventured, his voice very soft, "Do you want to stay with me?"
The boy ducked his head immediately, keeping his eyes from view, but in doing so he nodded quickly. Aiba licked his lips, finding his voice lost. After a minute, he lifted up his blanket.
"Make yourself comfortable, then."
------
The summer rain had gone, replaced by falling leaves and autumn rain, and no other incidents had occurred.
Which wasn't to say that Princess had withdrawn into himself. If anything he appeared to have become freer with his physical affection, apparently attempting to communicate in touch for lack of words. (Privately Aiba felt that communication had improved more dramatically since the revelation that Princess was well learned and had fine penmanship, but he wasn't about to make Princess give up his preference.)
When nothing had gone missing or was so much as an inch out of place, Jun had allowed himself to warm up, cautiously taking Princess into his confidences and making the boy tea or hot chocolate or setting out biscuits before dinner if Princess helped him with his duties.
Ohno had warmed up to the boy from the start: Three days from his arrival common knowledge ran that if Princess couldn't be found, Princess was with Ohno. They shared a bond that didn't need words, which was well, since Ohno had always had trouble with words. Princess, on the other hand, could articulate everything with a sweep of a pen - and would. It pleased Aiba to see Ohno blossoming under the attention that Princess liked to lavish, as much as it pleased Aiba to see Princess grin while the two of them mess about together.
Sho had, as Aiba had figured he would, fallen in adoration with Princess the first time they met properly. Despite being a busy man, he'd made several excuses since to find his way to Aiba's townhouse and wile away the better part of a day there.
After their first walk, Aiba and Princess developed a tradition of taking a long walk once a week, often hand in hand. Aiba liked that alone time. He could ramble about anything he liked and though Princess might laugh silently at him, Princess also never interrupted. If he didn't feel talking was necessary, Princess walked a little closer and didn't attempt to press him to.
It was on a damp autumn afternoon that Aiba, in spite of the threat of rain, sought Princess out for their usual walk. He found Princess in the sitting room, squinting thoughtfully at a book of music that Sho had been instructing him from. Aiba stopped in the doorway, watching, listening when Princess picked up his hands and set them to the keys, playing several lines. He played them five times before he sat back, looking satisfied.
"You're getting to be an excellent player," Aiba said.
Princess turned and smiled at him. He scribbled something on the pad he'd taken to carrying and held it out. I've figured exactly when to pivot my thumb so I can reach on time.
Aiba smiled. "Sho will be pleased."
It was an understatement. Sho was over the moon that he had someone who shared his musical hobbies and could make use of the piano. Aiba had kept it because his parents insisted that every respectable house should have one; but he had never once been inclined to try it.
"Shall we go?"
It's wet.
"It's merely damp."
It's going to rain soon.
"Then we'll turn back when it does. It's only going to keep raining and we'll miss our weekly walk."
Princess stood, his eyes glimmering with amusement. He tucked the pad under his arm and held out his hand. Aiba took it, pulling Princess along behind him. They put on their boots and waterproofs and stepped out into the brisk air.
The berries were all gone - they had been for some weeks - but it didn't stop Aiba from playing at making a search for any hangers on. Once or twice he looked over his shoulder to find Princess smiling at him, hands stuffed into his pockets. Once or twice Aiba looked over his shoulder and was met instead with Princess looking at the road ahead, mouth set in a serious line, brows brought down worriedly over his eyes.
The rain had started to drip the second time Aiba caught that look, but it was light and barely noticeable. He was about to suggest they begin to head back lest it get worse, when he saw it a third time.
"Princess?" Aiba asked.
The boy snapped his head up and immediately slipped his features into a smile, tilting his head in question. Aiba felt his chest clench. He took hold of Princess's wrist.
"Don't do that. Don't lie to me."
Startlement chased the fake smile away from Princess's face. Aiba closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. His chest loosened. He opened his eyes, smiled again, and let go of Princess's wrist.
"What's wrong?" he asked, "Tell me."
Princess titled his head away and chewed on the inside of his cheek. Aiba moved in close, taking the boy's hand and giving it a gentle press of encouragement.
"Tell me, Princess. You can tell me anything."
He was not prepared for Princess's lips to meet with his own. Aiba's brain stopped working. He couldn't move. He couldn't even make his eyes widen in shock. Princess's eyes hadn't closed. They watched him, glittering, almost a caramel color in the afternoon light. Aiba couldn't process that look.
Princess moved his lips against Aiba's and muscle control came flooding back to Aiba. He pulled away sharply. Rain beat against the ground around them as he stood, staring, trying to hide that his breath was coming heavier than it usually did. Princess's hair was slowly flattening to his head, and water was dripping down his face from it.
"What are-- Princess-- we've been through this," Aiba said. He shook his head, trying to clear it. "Why now? Why, Princess?"
The boy grabbed Aiba's wrist, preventing him from moving away any farther. There was something in that grip, something needy, something insistent and maybe even scared, that kept Aiba from yanking his hand away. He frowned deeply instead.
"Why, Princess? I told you, you don't have to do that -- " Princess shook his head, but Aiba ignored it. " -- I'm not going to take advantage of you, or let you try to pay me back for expectations I don't-- "
"NO!"
Aiba found himself frozen. Princess stood, panting like he'd run a race, his eyes dark and swirling with emotion. His knuckles were white where they wrapped around Aiba's wrist. He shook his head again.
"Y-you talked."
Princess swallowed heavily. He coughed. Aiba immediately moved to steady him, but Aiba's brain still hadn't caught up to everything. Princess scrambled for the notebook and pen in his waterproof. But in the rain the paper was just going to get wet and the ink was just going to run. Aiba took hold of Princess's hands.
"You talked. You talked, Princess."
Princess looked up at Aiba from under his soaked bangs. "Not Princess. Ninomiya." His voice was scratchy, high-pitched, and breathy from disuse.
Aiba pulled him closer. "Ninomiya?"
"My name," the boy said slowly, deliberately, like he was making sure his mouth could make the words. He had to pause to wet his throat every so often. "I'm not trying to pay you." He paused again, and his throat worked, but his eyes remained serious. "I just want to."
Aiba blinked rapidly. "W-want to? But-- "
Princess (no, not Princess, Ninomiya) leaned in and cut him off with another kiss. Aiba made to pull away, but Ninomiya wouldn't allow it, following him when he tried to lean back and pulling on his waterproof when he tried to step away. Aiba's hands flailed. They rested on the boy's shoulders with the intention to push him away - really and honestly with that intention - but somehow Aiba found Ninomiya was pressed even closer to him. The kiss didn't end until Ninomiya broke it, pulling away to gasp for air.
"I want to," he repeated.
It took Aiba several long moments for Ninomiya's words to process in his brain, which hadn't yet started working.
"You really want it?" he asked.
Ninomiya nodded. "I like you. You've been nice to me."
Thunder rumbled and they both jumped. Aiba laughed. He held out his hand.
"Let's go home. We'll figure it out there."
------
Epilogue
Aiba woke with a start. He rolled onto his side, threw a leg over Nino's thigh, and shook Nino by his thin shoulders.
"Nino! Nino-chan wake up! I had the best dream and I have to tell you about it before I forget it! Nino-chaaaaaaaaan, come on!"
Nino grumbled angrily, his face scrunching up in discontent. His hand flailed, trying to reach back and hit Aiba no doubt, but Aiba had the advantage of actually being awake. He grabbed Nino's hand out of the air and pulled him in close.
"Nino-chan it was so great. Sho-chan and I were lords, right, and Ohno was my cook and Jun was my butler and I found you in a garden and brought you home and you gave me the best blow job ever and --"
"Aiba-san," Nino interrupted. His voice was an irritated growl. "What time is it?"
Aiba looked at the clock. "... Four-seventeen?"
"Are you telling me that you woke me up to tell me about a dream at four in the morning?"
Aiba smiled sheepishly and nuzzled into the nape of Nino's neck. "Yes?"
Nino swatted his hip hard for that, but Aiba just giggled. There was a moment of quiet after that. Then Nino wiggled a little, and Aiba loosened his grip enough so Nino could turn to face him. Nino's eyes gleamed with amusement in the dark.
"Wait. Jun was your butler?"
Pairing/Group: Aiba Masaki/Ninomiya Kazunari
Rating/Warnings: R; fellatio and masturbation
Word Count: ~8300
Summary: Aiba Masaki finds a boy.
Notes: Finally remembered to repost this from the je_fqfest. XD; The title is taken from a Nan Porter quote, and has very little to do with the story. Oh, and if the writing reminds you of say, a poor attempt at Conan-Doyle's style, it's because I was reading Sherlock Holmes at the time. Many thanks to dmajor7th for betaing and my roomie for giving me the ending.
Aiba Masaki perched on the sill of a heavily draped window, looking out at the sun-warmed garden. It was a rare perfect day and at that moment he wished, as he never had before, that he could be a flower.
Two young women chose that moment to pass in front of him, making him straighten automatically in spite of his day dreaming. Aiba tugged at his starched collar, attempting to flatten it and draw his attention from the outdoors at the same time. The two women were already gone, drinks in hand and fans a-flutter, probably to seek a more eligible bachelor. Aiba sighed his annoyance and fixed his cuff. Whose idea had it been to have a midday party indoors, anyway? They were wasting perfectly good sunlight when they could as easily have gathered at night.
And this wasn't even a friend's house.
"Well you seem to be in good cheer."
Aiba turned to face Sakurai Sho, the one highlight of the party - and likely the reason he had been invited at all. Dog breeders unaffiliated with high-born names generally had little to do with the parties of the aristocracy. The Sakurai's had no time for dogs, being a family of politicians and lawyers, but Sho had been Aiba's friend for as long as Aiba could remember. Sho wasn't truly a year older than himself, but he'd always been so far ahead of Aiba in his studies that it often felt like there was a difference of three years between them. (In fact, Sho had helped Aiba with his studies more often than not as they went up the school's ladder together.)
Aiba beamed to see him. "Sho!"
Sho smiled. "That's more like it. I thought you'd like this place. It's quite open."
"I should like it more if we were out in that open. What good is a garden if you can't appreciate it up close?"
Sho's smile turned more amused. "It might have something to do with the rain forecast."
Aiba pouted. Trust the weather-men to forecast rain. Half the time they were wrong, anyway, and he told Sho so. Sho just shrugged halfheartedly.
"It would be most inconvenient for all involved in the event that it turned out to be correct today. Imagine all the women amidst the fuss."
Imagine it Aiba did, and found he had a hard time containing his laughter. He would quite like to see such a fuss. Penance for keeping him locked indoors on such a lovely afternoon. And worse, he'd not be able to escape until evening, when the other guests would finally start to take their leave. Aiba hated to think of the puppies waiting for so long for their daily play.
Sho reached out and pressed his elbow. "Come. Let's get you fixed up with a drink and you'll have a chance at charming some winsome beauty."
Aiba let himself be led away from the window to the banqueting table. It was dressed in a chintz cloth for the occasion and laid with the best silver trays the Wainwrights owned. Each tray bore plates of finger sandwiches - three varieties in all - or tarts and biscuits, or small meat pies for the hungrier among the men. Aiba helped himself to several biscuits. He put several more into his overcoat pocket. Sho motioned to a servant, bringing the man swiftly to their side.
"Two cups of tea and two fingers of brandy."
Aiba waited until the servant had gone to raise an eyebrow at Sho. "So soon in the day?"
"At a party such as this, it can't be soon enough," Sho rejoined. His eyes sparkled with his personal amusement, and Aiba laughed. Aiba selected a delicate salmon sandwich lifting it to his lips. His eyes strayed to the window across from them. The sandwich stopped before it could enter his open mouth, and his mouth stayed open. Sho favored Aiba with a confused glance.
"What is it?"
"Do you see that?" Aiba asked.
It had started to rain, and Sho made note of the fact. Aiba shook his head impatiently. "No, no. Not the rain. The boy."
"Boy?"
Startled, Sho took a longer look out the window. A boy, dressed in drab grey, huddled under a trellis. It was hard to tell anything about him save that he must be male. Sho frowned. "Unless the Wainwright's have changed the gardener's uniform, that's not a servant, and I don't believe they have a son. What on earth is he doing here?"
Aiba shook his head slowly. He didn't know, either. A roll of thunder came and went. The boy huddled closer to the trellis during it. When it was over he pushed himself to his feet and moved on, though he stumbled along as he did.
"Your tea, sir."
Aiba nearly jumped out of his boots. No matter how many parties Sho's name got him an invite to, he'd never be used to the silent way servants would slip up behind him. Sho was hardly phased, taking his tea cup and finger.
"Carter, have there been new hires lately?" he asked.
"No, sir, not since the page boy last year," the servant replied.
"Thank you, Carter."
Aiba took his tea and finger and the servant melted away. He frowned. Sho raised his cup to his lips, took a sip, and turned to Aiba. "We should alert someone."
Sho was right. There was no reason why they should do anything else - the boy was trespassing and perhaps not in his right mind. He tossed back the brandy and put his teacup on the table.
"Cover for me. I'm going to see if he needs help."
Sho didn't have time to protest before Aiba was gone.
------
By the time Aiba managed to make his excuses to stray guests, gather his waterproof and hat, and sneak away from the Wainwright estate entrance, the gardens were inundated with mud and puddles. He'd seen the strange boy in the lily garden from the window, but by the time Aiba arrived there was nothing but footprints. Aiba sighed heavily and pressed on. He walked in a long, shallow slope, peering over hedges and bushes, looking for any hit of grey amongst the carefully manicured green. He hoped the boy hadn't gone far; he didn't like to think what would happen if the boy was discovered by a servant or one of the Wainwright's themselves.
When the rain had become little more than mist, Aiba finally found his grey mixed in with the late summer roses. The boy had made his way so far off the walking path that Aiba had almost given him up for a phantom, but there he sat, huddled under a stone arch, his head bowed over his knees and his feet pulled in close to his bum. He wasn't wearing shoes of any sort.
His hair was black, and his wrists were skinny. He shivered and was clearly trying to fit himself under the arch in the hope that the rain would miss him. He reminded Aiba of a small lost cat that Aiba had found once, in much the same condition.
Aiba approached, scuffing his boots into the rain-soaked gravel, and stopped with about a foot of distance still between them. The boy didn't look up, but he shifted his head enough that one eye could peek out. Aiba saw it flick quickly from his boots up to his face. He knelt and smiled.
"I'm Aiba Masaki."
The boy stared at him from that one eye, partially under cover from longish black hair. It was hard to tell if the boy was dumb or simply silent. Aiba tilted his head. "Who are you?"
No answer. Aiba frowned. "Do you work here?"
The boy shook his head. Aiba inched closer. "I didn't think so. Do you know where you are?"
Again, the boy shook his head. Aiba sighed. "You're in the rose garden of the Wainwright estate, and you could be in trouble if they find you. How did you come here?"
The boy shrugged, but said nothing. Now Aiba frowned. He rocked back on his heels, leaving his hands in the open. "I can't help you if you don't answer."
But again the boy said nothing; only looked at Aiba warily. Aiba hummed to himself as he thought. How to get the boy to trust him? He couldn't leave the poor thing to be found by a servant and thrown into the nearest jail. But how to get the boy to answer him, let along leave with him?
Then Aiba brightened. He stood and lifted aside his coat, then stuck his hand into his overcoat pocket. The boy flinched away from him as soon as he stood, and had pressed himself entirely against the wall of the arch by the time Aiba removed a biscuit from his pocket. Like a skittish dog.
Aiba stilled immediately and lowered himself slowly to his knees, his hands held out in placation. When he spoke again, his voice was nearly a coo. "I'm sorry. I'm not going to bring you any harm." Aiba clucked his tongue absently and held out the hand with the biscuit. "Here, aren't you hungry?"
The boy's head came up again; properly, this time, without hiding half in his knees and half under his hair. His features were thin, and his skin pale and unblemished, so that Aiba's eyes would have been drawn to the mole on his chin almost immediately. Would have been, except for the boy's eyes. Caramel-colored, they were bright with intelligence but hard and cold, glinting in the misty rain. They met Aiba's gaze when they flicked from the biscuit in Aiba's hand to Aiba's eyes and back.
Aiba very nearly lost his breath.
The boy's eyes still held a wary light, but they were hungry, too; and in Aiba's experience, hunger always won in the end. He smirked triumphantly. He moved slowly, closing the gap between them. The boy's eyes stayed on the biscuit.
"Go on, take it. I've got more and you look like you could-- "
A small, pale hand shot out and snatched the biscuit away before Aiba could finish, leaving Aiba blinking down at his empty palm. He laughed softly. "-- Use a snack, if not a meal," he finished. He tilted his head. "Don't eat it too fast. You'll choke."
The boy, already chewing, looked at Aiba suspiciously. Aiba just smiled. "I have more. Would you like another?"
It took hardly a second for the boy's gaze to shutter, guarding his thoughts. He saw watching Aiba like he was waiting for the trick to be exposed. Aiba felt dizzy watching it. He moved slowly and deliberately, keeping his hands where the boy could see them as much as possible. He withdrew his hand from his pocket and held the biscuit out.
"Here you go."
This time the boy's hand didn't quite snatch and his eyes stayed on Aiba's face. Aiba made sure to keep smiling in the wake of those hard, glinting eyes. He shifted a little, watching the boy eat his biscuit. The boy followed him carefully.
"Where do you come from?" Aiba asked.
The boy shrugged. He shoved the remaining biscuit into his mouth. Aiba rested his cheek on a loose fist. "Not from around here if you don't know the Wainwrights, I'll guess. How old are you? Seventeen?"
The boy made a face. Aiba laughed and said, "So then?" He was rewarded with a twenty traced over the wet ground. "Twenty..." he murmured. "I'm twenty-one. Twenty-two this December."
He received no reply, but he hadn't much expected one. The silence was irritating nonetheless, and worse for his inability to get the boy to offer anything other than the weight of his cold, bright gaze. Aiba sighed and stood. "I'll leave you be, then. I had been going to invite you back with me for a bath, if you'd wanted it, but if you don't want a roof and a real meal then I won't waste my time."
And he turned as if to leave, starting to take his first step. He was prevented from doing so by a hand clutching his ankle. Aiba grinned to himself. He composed his face and turned to look down.
The boy stared at his knees, but his knuckles were white. Aiba knelt again. "Do you want to come with me?"
The boy spent so long looking at him before he nodded that Aiba thought he'd have to pick him up and carry him off. But nod the boy did, and Aiba reached out and tucked a stray lock of hair back from his sharp features. Then he pried the boy's small hand away from his boot. The action was met with a guilty, perhaps hurt, flinch, but Aiba held the hand gently. As he waited for the boy to look at him he examined the pale hand. It seemed somehow smaller how that Aiba had something to compare it to.
Sho would adore it, Aiba thought. "All right, then."
He stood and pulled the boy to his feet; the boy swayed violently, making Aiba scramble to catch him.
"What's wrong?" Aiba asked, "Are you hurt?" He received a nod and swore softly. There was no time or place to check for the injury here. Aiba looked down, trying to see the boy's face. "Can you walk?"
Another nod. Aiba wrapped his arms carefully around thin shoulders and led him slowly away. Aside from clinging to the front of Aiba's jacket, the boy was otherwise able to make his wobbly way along.
"Can you tell me your name?" Aiba asked. "I can't just call you 'You'."
The boy didn't do anything for a long time. At last he shook his head. Aiba frowned and squeezed his bony shoulder. "If you don't tell me I'm going to have to make up a name for you."
The prospect didn't appear to bother the boy terribly much - he shrugged in the face of Aiba's threat. Aiba clucked his tongue and gave an emphatic sigh to let him know exactly what he thought of such stubbornness. "Very well. Then I'm going to call you Princess."
The boy's head snapped up, his face screwed up with dislike. Aiba gave the boy his best look of innocence, batting his eyelashes for good measure. There was silence, then the boy's face returned to composed neutrality and he shrugged. That settled the matter. Aiba led him to the front of the Wainwrights' property and whistled for the page boy to call the next cab. He brought Princess under shelter of the guard house until the cab pulled up. The door opened and he bundled Princess inside.
"Let's go home, Princess."
------
The door of the Aiba family house opened to reveal Aiba's butler (and maid, and secretary, and general surrogate mother). Aiba watched Jun's eyes fly immediately to Princess, huddled against Aiba's side and shivering with chill. Jun gave Aiba his most unimpressed stare.
"This is Princess," Aiba said cheerfully. "He'll be staying with us."
"And did Princess have any say in the matter, sir?" Jun asked dryly.
"I found him huddled in the rain in the Wainwrights's rose garden and he has quite refused to speak to me. Unless you can speak silence and head nods, he certainly hasn't had a say. He did come willingly, however, so I shall take that to mean he doesn't mind. And anyway he needs a warm bath and a warmer meal. Heat the water for him, won't you, Jun?"
"Very good, sir."
Jun disappeared into the house and Aiba looked down at Princess as he led the boy inside. Princess was peering into the house while trying not to look like he was, and when he felt Aiba's eyes upon him, Princess turned quickly to glower at him. Aiba chuckled.
"Come now, don't be like that. You can't sit down to eat without washing and you refuse to tell me your name. Either come out with it or learn to respond to Princess."
Princess walked to Aiba's pristine reception couch. He looked Aiba in the eye and very slowly, very deliberately seated himself. Aiba frowned deeply at him. "I will tell the cook that you have declined to eat if you don't stand in the next five seconds."
Stubborn defiance drained from Princess's eyes all at once, leaving him to stare blankly. Aiba went to him with his hand out. "Princess, come. Bathe and I'll feed you. I'll take care of you."
Silence greeted him, but wariness was creeping into Princess's gaze again. Aiba came to the conclusion that such a look was not right upon the boy's face, but he was also in little mood to be trifled with. He moved his hand closer and firmed his voice.
"Or you can refuse my hospitality and you may show yourself to the door."
Princess's lips drew down into a pouting frown and his eyes hardened, but there was consideration behind the petulance. Aiba gave him what time he needed to think. Slowly, very carefully, Princess reached for his hand. Aiba allowed a grin to stretch his lips. He pulled Princess up.
"Let me show you around while Jun gets the water warming."
The house was not overly large, nor was it in the center of town; indeed, Aiba's parents had chosen the place for being on the fringes of the city. It was more grounds than house, if one looked at it. The back opened into an acre of land, perfect for training and allowing the dogs to play in.
The dogs started baying as soon as Aiba opened the backdoor to show Princess the green lawn, well appointed with trees. Princess jumped and pressed his face to Aiba's shoulder. Aiba chuckled and stroked the back of Princess's neck soothingly.
"Don't worry about them. They're puppies, and very friendly. My family grooms show dogs for the wealthy. You can imagine an ill temper wouldn't be appreciated. And anyway they're in their pound."
Princess relaxed and peeked around Aiba's arm. Aiba threaded his fingers into Princess's hair. "I won't release them for their exercise until later."
The boy nodded. Aiba led him back inside, taking him through the kitchens, the larder, and the laundry in the basement, the reception salon, dining room and smoking room on the first floor ("The bathroom is back there, but we'll let Jun be for now."), and the master bedroom and guestrooms on the second floor.
"Jun and the servants sleep upstairs," Aiba was saying when Jun's head appeared around the banister.
"The water is ready, sir."
Aiba smiled. "Thank you, Jun." He turned and held his hand out to Princess. "Come, Princess. Let's get you a nice bath."
Princess took his hand and Aiba led him to the bathroom. His family had become rich enough to afford indoor plumbing about the time of his grandfather, though they had never bothered to look into the indoor heating options that were recently in fashion. A fire under the tub was just as good, as his mother had liked to say. Princess followed Aiba willingly if not enthusiastically.
When they reached the bathroom Aiba held the door open for him. "You know how to bathe, don't you?"
Princess gave him a Look and Aiba laughed. He closed the door behind the boy. Jun stood to the side, waiting.
"Has Ohno begun dinner?"
"Are you certain this is wise, sir?" Jun asked instead.
Aiba shrugged and offered his butler a careless smile. "What kind of harm could he be, skinny thing that he is?"
Jun offered Aiba he flattest stare in return. "Your name is not unknown and your considerable family wealth not unheard of, sir."
"A thief with a pretty face like that? Pish." Aiba waved his arm at Jun. "He's a stray, Jun. He needs someone to take care of him until we can set about finding his home."
Jun pursed his lips. Aiba shrugged again, waving at him once more. "Go on, make sure that his dinner is being prepared. Not too large, nutritious as we have, and allow several biscuits for dessert. None of those digestives, mind."
Jun sighed. "Yes, sir."
"Have the tray brought up to my rooms," Aiba added, "I don't want Princess subjected to unwanted attention."
Jun gave him a look like that was exactly what he would have desired the boy be subjected to, but he said nothing. Aiba knocked on the door of the bathroom. "Are you finished, Princess?"
There was no answer, of course, and Aiba hadn't been expecting one. He smiled. "I'm coming in."
Aiba opened the door. Princess was still sitting in the tub; in fact he was curled around himself in the exact middle of it, with his arms wrapped around his knees. Aiba furrowed his brow at the boy.
"Have you washed?"
Princess nodded. His eyes were heavy on Aiba's face. Aiba came closer. "Come out then."
Princess frowned, curling up tighter around himself. Aiba paused and crossed his arms, mimicking the frown. "If I give you a towel, will you come out?"
Princess's lips pursed and twisted, and he shook his head.
"This is not going to work, Princess. Either you will have to start talking, or you will have to do as I say. Am I going to have to send you to the police?" Aiba asked mildly.
Princess looked up at him with wide eyes, lips falling into a shocked 'o'. He shook his head quickly. Aiba leaned on the side of the bathtub and gave Princess the saddest look he could muster. He kept his voice steady and gentle.
"I found you sneaking about the Wainwrights's garden. You won't talk to me. You won't do what I say. I can't take care of you if you won't follow my instructions. I'm not going to hurt you."
Princess looked unconvinced. Aiba lowered his voice further, smiling comfortingly. "Jun's going to bring your dinner to my rooms. Nobody will stare or interrogate you. You won't have to talk." He held out his hand. "Come with me?"
The silence that followed was one of Princess's considering silences. Aiba watched thoughts flicker back and forth behind his eyes, though he could hardly tell one from the other. He waited patiently. Finally, Princess lifted a hand from the water and held it out. Aiba took it, beaming, and helped Princess to stand and get out of the bathtub. His elation quickly turned to horror.
"Princess! Your back!"
Princess turned away hurriedly, but it was too late. Aiba had seen the whiplashes across the skinny expanse of the boy's back, and had seen them long enough to know that not all of them were old. Aiba held Princess's hand tightly in one of his and tilted his chin up gently with the other. Princess met his gaze very hesitantly, and Aiba nearly melted.
"Is this why you were wandering?"
Princess bit his lip. He nodded.
"Do they hurt?"
The boy shook his head. Aiba sighed softly. He turned, placing his hand absently on the back of Princess's neck and rubbing his nape while he picked up the towel Jun had left.
"Let me dry you and we'll go up for dinner."
If Princess found the plan disagreeable, he made no indication of it. Aiba placed the towel over Princess's shoulders and began patting dry his skin very carefully. The boy was in worse condition than any of his stray dogs; but though Princess tensed several times, no sound of pain escaped and he made no move to stop Aiba's progress.
When they were nearly done, Aiba draped the towel over Princess's shoulders and patted the top of his head gently. "Jun left you clothes. Can you dress yourself?"
Princess nodded. Aiba smiled. He retrieved the clothes from the small table they'd been left on and gave them to Princess. The clothes were from Jun's own closet by the looks of them, but they were in every way better than the rain-soaked grey cloth the boy had been wearing. Princess handled them with ease, even with his back looking like it did. Aiba narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.
When Princess was dressed, Aiba took his hand. "You should eat."
He brought Princess up to his rooms. Dinner waited on two trays in his office, set on the coffee table and pulled up close to the fireplace, where a fire crackled invitingly at them. Outside it was growing dark, making the room seem smaller, but Jun would be coming with the oil lamps soon enough. Aiba smiled and crossed over, sitting down as he lifted the cover from the tray. A simple fare of sandwiches and soup puree greeted him; the second tray proffered a tea pot, two cups, and a plate of biscuits. Aiba clucked his tongue.
"I may have just come from a party, but I didn't order tea. I wanted dinner, even if it would be the same a last night."
But Princess's eyes were locked on the tray and Aiba didn't have the heart to send it back and make him wait. He patted the seat next to him, smiling when Princess took it. Aiba scratched his fingers through Princess's damp hair absently.
"Help yourself," he said, selecting a sandwich of his own. "I'd start with the soup so it doesn't get cold."
Princess nodded and picked up his spoon. Aiba had finished his soup and two sandwich halves when he looked at Princess and realized that the boy had eaten his soup and nothing else. Aiba offered him a sandwich half, but Princess stopped him with a hand on his wrist.
Princess's palm was warm and calloused. Aiba ignored it in favor of looking pointedly at him. "Princess, you're stick-thin. I should be stopping you from trying to eat too much."
Princess shook his head.
"You can't tell me that that is all you're going to eat!"
Princess nodded. Aiba frowned. "Don't you talk, Princess?"
The boy shook his head. He wouldn't look at Aiba. Aiba found himself wondering if that was the truth. He let it slide. "You can eat, you know. Nobody will hurt you for it."
Princess shook his head again. Aiba knew he should be offended. Loose with etiquette though he knew society thought him, he had never seen someone brush off hospitality so casually. He had never hosted a boy he'd found huddled in the rain, either, much less one who bore signs of abuse and didn't talk.
"Are you tired?" Aiba asked. "The guest room isn't made up yet, but so long as you're good you can sleep here."
He said it with a smile, but Princess didn't smile back. Just looked at him with heavy, steady eyes. Aiba swallowed. "Or if you're not tired we could do something. You could tell me about yourself, or I could tell you about me, or--"
Princess stood and Aiba shut his mouth so quickly that his teeth clicked. He watched as the boy carefully moved the coffee table to the side, out of the way. Then Princess came to stand in front of him. Aiba's eyes never left the boy's face, though his face was dark and unreadable in the firelight and he never looked at Aiba. The boy touched Aiba's knees with the tips of his fingers, but Aiba felt it so heavily that his knees fell away from each other.
"What--"
Princess dropped to the floor. He moved his hands slowly, sliding them up from Aiba's knees to his thighs and swiftly undoing Aiba's trouser laces. Suddenly Aiba understood, and understood that this was wrong. He needed to stop it. He opened his mouth to speak --
Princess finally lifted his eyes to meet Aiba's. Aiba found his breath taken and his voice lost. The boy's eyes glinted in the darkening light. His hand was dry and warm when short fingers wrapped around Aiba's penis.
Aiba lifted his hips towards that warmth. In spite of himself, he wondered if Princess's mouth wouldn't be just as warm. If his tongue would be as careful as his fingers. His body responded to the careful ministrations like they never had to anything Aiba had ever done with the girls he'd courted casually. Princess stroked Aiba now, twisting his wrist around Aiba's hard cock, and his gaze dropped away from Aiba's face. Aiba bit back a groan - he wanted the boy's eyes back.
"P-princess..."
Princess's eyes came back, locked, dark and searching, onto Aiba's face. Time slowed, or maybe stopped. Aiba couldn't breathe. Warmth had pooled into his groin and become an unbearable throb. Princess waited, but for what Aiba didn't know. He swallowed, trying to get his breath back. He needed to tell Princess to stop. He couldn't remember how to form words.
Princess removed Aiba's cock from within the confines of his pants and licked up the length of it. Aiba moaned. His eyes fluttered and his breath came back in a long rush. Aiba felt dizzy - from pleasure or air he couldn't say.
"Princess--"
The boy wrapped his small hand around the base of Aiba's penis once again, taking the head of it into his mouth. Aiba bit down hard on his lip. His hands clutched at the couch cushion convulsively. If there ever had been a time to turn back, it was lost to him.
Aiba let Princess continue to take him in, moaning all the while. He didn't know if that encouraged the boy or not, but Princess began to suck, swirling his tongue in abstract rhythms over Aiba's sensitized cock. He tried not to thrust into the inviting warmth, but then Princess's teeth brushed over the vein as his head bobbed. Aiba cried out, all but falling over the back of the couch. Princess's tongue pressed wet heat over the scrape.
Aiba keened. "Princess-- fucking--"
His hand met something silky and soft. He cracked an eye open and realized that his hand was cupped around the back of Princess's head. The boy's mouth worked him; his cheeks hollowed and the suction increased. Aiba felt like his insides had been tied in knots.
"I'm close--"
Princess continued to suck him, his tongue employed against Aiba's frenulum when his head pulled back or pressing tight to the vein when he came forward again. Aiba groaned and shuddered. It had been so long... too long...
"Princess-- please-- so good--"
The boy said nothing. He tilted his head and moved a little back, and his hand returned to replace his mouth at the base of Aiba's penis. Aiba's hand clutched the back of his head and he saw white when he came.
It was a long while before Aiba could gather the will to open his eyes. When he finally did, Princess stared up at him. They watched each other in utter silence. His lips and face were clean, and Aiba realized he hadn't heard the sound of spitting. His head felt fuzzy with the realization. He removed his hand from the back of Princess's head and cupped his jaw tenderly.
"Princess..."
Princess shook his head. He stood. Aiba stood quickly, forgetting that his pants were not done, and he was hanging free in a manner most embarrassing, and grabbed the boy's wrist.
"I'm sorry. I should have stopped you," he said, "I'll have the guest room set up."
He left quickly and didn't look back. His first stop was to find Jun (Jun was having an argument with Ohno about that night's dinner being bangers and mash for the fifth night) to have the dinner trays taken away and the guest room set up. His second stop was the bathroom, where he locked himself in, sat himself on the toilet, and stared at nothing for a very long time.
Princess was still standing in the middle of Aiba's office when Aiba returned. Aiba avoided looking at him as much as he could.
"The room is ready," he said. "Jun will show you. I'll see you in the morning."
Princess looked at Aiba - Aiba could feel the weight of his gaze - for a long time. Then he left without a word.
------
Finding Princess the next day was like seeking a blade of grass in a field - both Jun and Ohno had seen him awake as early as they, had in fact taken breakfast with him, but Aiba could find him nowhere all morning. Princess was not in his guest room, not in the dining room, not in the kitchen, not in Aiba's rooms (and Aiba was not sure if he was relieved or not). The maid professed to having seen him out back, but when Aiba went to look for himself there was no sign of the boy. Yet Jun and Ohno would swear the boy came to take his lunch in the kitchens later.
"Tell him that I do not approve of his disappearing act," Aiba said, annoyed, "And that he should take his meals with his host should he care to stay."
He turned to go, only to nearly trip over the subject of his search. "There you are!" he exclaimed. "I've been looking for you all day!"
Princess bowed his head to the floor, looking rather like a guilty puppy. Aiba sighed. He reached out and petted Princess's soft hair.
"You shouldn't disappear like that. If you are looking for something to do or eat - anything at all - tell me."
The boy nodded. Aiba smiled and petted him again, fingers curling into dark locks. "Good." He paused then, stroking Princess's hair absently. "Let's go for a walk, shall we?"
Princess peeked up at him. Aiba smiled encouragingly and held out his hand. A moment later he wrapped his fingers around Princess's smaller ones and pointedly ignored Jun and Ohno exchanging a look - Ohno's face passive as always but Jun's doing little to conceal surprise. Aiba led the boy to the front door, pulling a pair of his boots from the cupboard.
"We'll have to get you some clothes of your own, eh?" he said cheerfully.
Princess just looked at him, eyes dark and serious. He slipped his feet into Aiba's boots - several sizes too large - and wrapped himself up in the waterproof Aiba gave him. It might not rain again, but clouds still covered the sun and it was best to be prepared. Aiba dressed and opened the door for them. He took Princess down the front to the road leading to town. One hand strayed and took the boy's small hand. Aiba pretended not to see the sharp look Princess gave him.
The road to town was lined with trees and wildflowers, and bushes of blackberries that Aiba had loved to pick as a child. (He still did, when he had the chance.) He reached out to pluck one and popped it in his mouth, and immediately made a face.
"Not in season," he managed, voice pitched high and mouth twisted.
The corners of Princess's lips curled up. His entire face transformed with the smile, becoming softer. Prettier. Aiba quickly forgot the sour taste in his mouth and grinned. "You smiled!"
Immediately Princess's face smoothed out again and his eyes reflected his unsureness, but Aiba was too busy pulling the boy into his arms in delight. He pulled away a moment later and ruffled Princess's hair, still smiling himself. "Keep smiling, Princess. It suits you."
He turned away to continue their walk. He missed Princess's whole posture become bashful.
------
Aiba went to bed alone again, feeling far better than he had the night before. He lay awake in the dark for a while, listening to the faint sounds of the puppies in training yipping as they played in their pen, the insects and owls outside, and the otherwise still house. It was in that stillness that Aiba began to drift in contentment. It had been a good day, after all. He had gotten Princess to smile. Though Princess had not been quick to smile even after Aiba's encouragement, nor did he smile widely, Aiba had counted four separate smiles during their walk.
Each smile seemed to take years off his face, making him appear younger than his professed 20 years. (Aiba had wondered more than once today if Princess wasn't in fact 17 like he had guessed.) He still marveled how Princess's face changed with a smile, how his angles softened and his eyes brightened and lost their guardedness.
Aiba wondered what Princess would look like smiling with Aiba rather than at him. Did he have different types of smiles? He was clearly no stranger to sex - thinking about Princess on his knees sent a thrill through Aiba that he would rather not acknowledge - what would he look like were he to smile in the midst of pleasure? What would it feel like to put such a smile on his face?
The door opened. Lost in fantasy, Aiba didn't hear it. He pressed down into the sheets and let his hand stray towards his groin. What would Princess look like with his eyes unguarded? His hair spread over the pillow, dark against the white sheets; his legs and arms open and welcoming...
Aiba wrapped his hand around his penis. He bit down on his lip to keep from making a sound and stroked himself. He could see Princess's smile, could see Princess's thin lips stretch over white teeth, could see his eyes light up with affection. Princess might be drawn out of his silence, even if it was just enough to allow a whimper, a moan of satisfaction.
Aiba grunted his displeasure. Stroking wasn't enough - not with Princess's warmth so near, heavy and yet intangible. Aiba froze. His eyes snapped open.
Princess's eyes glittered back at him in the dark.
Aiba struggled to sit up. "What are you doing?"
The boy tilted his head. His hand lifted, slowly, and settled over Aiba's. Aiba jerked. He moved, trying to put all the distance between himself and Princess that he could even as Princess followed him forward. Aiba shook his head. "Stop it. Stop it, Princess."
Princess leaned close. Aiba gave a startled noise. His hand flailed out and struck Princess across the face, drawing down from forehead to chin - in fact flattening the boy's hair over his face. It would have been comical if Aiba hadn't immediately felt so guilty. He brought his hand back quickly. Princess didn't move so much as a finger to fix himself. Aiba bit down on his lip.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that."
Princess stayed silent, looking at Aiba through his hair. His eyes were cold again. Aiba moved slowly, keeping his hand where Princess could see it, and brushed the boy's hair back. Princess tensed but Aiba ignored it. He stroked Princess's cheek.
"You don't have to do this," he said. "I brought you here to get you out of the rain, not to force you into bed." Princess's stare was level. Aiba smiled. "It's okay if you don't believe me just yet. I'll show you. Go to sleep, okay?"
He fluffed his pillow and made himself ready to ignore the throbbing in his groin (dull and easily forgettable now) and sleep. Princess didn't move. Aiba regarded him. Princess's brow was furrowed and his lips pushed into a thoughtful pout.
"Won't you sleep?" Aiba asked softly.
Princess shook his head.
"Why not? Is guest room not to your liking?"
Another shake of the head. Aiba blew out a breath. It would be useless to ask what was wrong with the room and he was ill-prepared to play guessing games. He pouted his lips back at Princess.
"Would you rather stay here and I'll take the guest room?"
Princess didn't move for a while. Then he gave a very small, but very definite shake of his head. Aiba blinked rapidly. He sucked in a breath and ventured, his voice very soft, "Do you want to stay with me?"
The boy ducked his head immediately, keeping his eyes from view, but in doing so he nodded quickly. Aiba licked his lips, finding his voice lost. After a minute, he lifted up his blanket.
"Make yourself comfortable, then."
------
The summer rain had gone, replaced by falling leaves and autumn rain, and no other incidents had occurred.
Which wasn't to say that Princess had withdrawn into himself. If anything he appeared to have become freer with his physical affection, apparently attempting to communicate in touch for lack of words. (Privately Aiba felt that communication had improved more dramatically since the revelation that Princess was well learned and had fine penmanship, but he wasn't about to make Princess give up his preference.)
When nothing had gone missing or was so much as an inch out of place, Jun had allowed himself to warm up, cautiously taking Princess into his confidences and making the boy tea or hot chocolate or setting out biscuits before dinner if Princess helped him with his duties.
Ohno had warmed up to the boy from the start: Three days from his arrival common knowledge ran that if Princess couldn't be found, Princess was with Ohno. They shared a bond that didn't need words, which was well, since Ohno had always had trouble with words. Princess, on the other hand, could articulate everything with a sweep of a pen - and would. It pleased Aiba to see Ohno blossoming under the attention that Princess liked to lavish, as much as it pleased Aiba to see Princess grin while the two of them mess about together.
Sho had, as Aiba had figured he would, fallen in adoration with Princess the first time they met properly. Despite being a busy man, he'd made several excuses since to find his way to Aiba's townhouse and wile away the better part of a day there.
After their first walk, Aiba and Princess developed a tradition of taking a long walk once a week, often hand in hand. Aiba liked that alone time. He could ramble about anything he liked and though Princess might laugh silently at him, Princess also never interrupted. If he didn't feel talking was necessary, Princess walked a little closer and didn't attempt to press him to.
It was on a damp autumn afternoon that Aiba, in spite of the threat of rain, sought Princess out for their usual walk. He found Princess in the sitting room, squinting thoughtfully at a book of music that Sho had been instructing him from. Aiba stopped in the doorway, watching, listening when Princess picked up his hands and set them to the keys, playing several lines. He played them five times before he sat back, looking satisfied.
"You're getting to be an excellent player," Aiba said.
Princess turned and smiled at him. He scribbled something on the pad he'd taken to carrying and held it out. I've figured exactly when to pivot my thumb so I can reach on time.
Aiba smiled. "Sho will be pleased."
It was an understatement. Sho was over the moon that he had someone who shared his musical hobbies and could make use of the piano. Aiba had kept it because his parents insisted that every respectable house should have one; but he had never once been inclined to try it.
"Shall we go?"
It's wet.
"It's merely damp."
It's going to rain soon.
"Then we'll turn back when it does. It's only going to keep raining and we'll miss our weekly walk."
Princess stood, his eyes glimmering with amusement. He tucked the pad under his arm and held out his hand. Aiba took it, pulling Princess along behind him. They put on their boots and waterproofs and stepped out into the brisk air.
The berries were all gone - they had been for some weeks - but it didn't stop Aiba from playing at making a search for any hangers on. Once or twice he looked over his shoulder to find Princess smiling at him, hands stuffed into his pockets. Once or twice Aiba looked over his shoulder and was met instead with Princess looking at the road ahead, mouth set in a serious line, brows brought down worriedly over his eyes.
The rain had started to drip the second time Aiba caught that look, but it was light and barely noticeable. He was about to suggest they begin to head back lest it get worse, when he saw it a third time.
"Princess?" Aiba asked.
The boy snapped his head up and immediately slipped his features into a smile, tilting his head in question. Aiba felt his chest clench. He took hold of Princess's wrist.
"Don't do that. Don't lie to me."
Startlement chased the fake smile away from Princess's face. Aiba closed his eyes and breathed out slowly. His chest loosened. He opened his eyes, smiled again, and let go of Princess's wrist.
"What's wrong?" he asked, "Tell me."
Princess titled his head away and chewed on the inside of his cheek. Aiba moved in close, taking the boy's hand and giving it a gentle press of encouragement.
"Tell me, Princess. You can tell me anything."
He was not prepared for Princess's lips to meet with his own. Aiba's brain stopped working. He couldn't move. He couldn't even make his eyes widen in shock. Princess's eyes hadn't closed. They watched him, glittering, almost a caramel color in the afternoon light. Aiba couldn't process that look.
Princess moved his lips against Aiba's and muscle control came flooding back to Aiba. He pulled away sharply. Rain beat against the ground around them as he stood, staring, trying to hide that his breath was coming heavier than it usually did. Princess's hair was slowly flattening to his head, and water was dripping down his face from it.
"What are-- Princess-- we've been through this," Aiba said. He shook his head, trying to clear it. "Why now? Why, Princess?"
The boy grabbed Aiba's wrist, preventing him from moving away any farther. There was something in that grip, something needy, something insistent and maybe even scared, that kept Aiba from yanking his hand away. He frowned deeply instead.
"Why, Princess? I told you, you don't have to do that -- " Princess shook his head, but Aiba ignored it. " -- I'm not going to take advantage of you, or let you try to pay me back for expectations I don't-- "
"NO!"
Aiba found himself frozen. Princess stood, panting like he'd run a race, his eyes dark and swirling with emotion. His knuckles were white where they wrapped around Aiba's wrist. He shook his head again.
"Y-you talked."
Princess swallowed heavily. He coughed. Aiba immediately moved to steady him, but Aiba's brain still hadn't caught up to everything. Princess scrambled for the notebook and pen in his waterproof. But in the rain the paper was just going to get wet and the ink was just going to run. Aiba took hold of Princess's hands.
"You talked. You talked, Princess."
Princess looked up at Aiba from under his soaked bangs. "Not Princess. Ninomiya." His voice was scratchy, high-pitched, and breathy from disuse.
Aiba pulled him closer. "Ninomiya?"
"My name," the boy said slowly, deliberately, like he was making sure his mouth could make the words. He had to pause to wet his throat every so often. "I'm not trying to pay you." He paused again, and his throat worked, but his eyes remained serious. "I just want to."
Aiba blinked rapidly. "W-want to? But-- "
Princess (no, not Princess, Ninomiya) leaned in and cut him off with another kiss. Aiba made to pull away, but Ninomiya wouldn't allow it, following him when he tried to lean back and pulling on his waterproof when he tried to step away. Aiba's hands flailed. They rested on the boy's shoulders with the intention to push him away - really and honestly with that intention - but somehow Aiba found Ninomiya was pressed even closer to him. The kiss didn't end until Ninomiya broke it, pulling away to gasp for air.
"I want to," he repeated.
It took Aiba several long moments for Ninomiya's words to process in his brain, which hadn't yet started working.
"You really want it?" he asked.
Ninomiya nodded. "I like you. You've been nice to me."
Thunder rumbled and they both jumped. Aiba laughed. He held out his hand.
"Let's go home. We'll figure it out there."
------
Epilogue
Aiba woke with a start. He rolled onto his side, threw a leg over Nino's thigh, and shook Nino by his thin shoulders.
"Nino! Nino-chan wake up! I had the best dream and I have to tell you about it before I forget it! Nino-chaaaaaaaaan, come on!"
Nino grumbled angrily, his face scrunching up in discontent. His hand flailed, trying to reach back and hit Aiba no doubt, but Aiba had the advantage of actually being awake. He grabbed Nino's hand out of the air and pulled him in close.
"Nino-chan it was so great. Sho-chan and I were lords, right, and Ohno was my cook and Jun was my butler and I found you in a garden and brought you home and you gave me the best blow job ever and --"
"Aiba-san," Nino interrupted. His voice was an irritated growl. "What time is it?"
Aiba looked at the clock. "... Four-seventeen?"
"Are you telling me that you woke me up to tell me about a dream at four in the morning?"
Aiba smiled sheepishly and nuzzled into the nape of Nino's neck. "Yes?"
Nino swatted his hip hard for that, but Aiba just giggled. There was a moment of quiet after that. Then Nino wiggled a little, and Aiba loosened his grip enough so Nino could turn to face him. Nino's eyes gleamed with amusement in the dark.
"Wait. Jun was your butler?"