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prettybiching · 3 years

Note

hi!! first off, I love your writing 💕 second, could I request one with John King where there’s a significant age gap between him and the reader, and he maybe starts to feel a bit self conscious about it for whatever reason, but the reader reassures him and maaaaaaybe there’s a smutty makeup? we love a mix of angst and smut

Guys My Age

Pairing: John King x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ mature scenes, angst, curse words, John is a dick, dirty talking, unprotected sex, angry sex, age gap and unnecessary Phil bashing :(

Word count: 4,000 words

Note: I hope this makes up for the delay. I love each and every one of you with my whole heart. Also, Phil is single in this fic.

Your heels clicked against the hardwood floor as you made your way through the CNN office. Along the way, you greeted all the people you'd come to know in your five-month-long relationship with the one and only John King.

"Hey, Y/N!" John's producer beamed at you, stepping aside to help you into the studio. "He's done any second now you can wait up for him inside."

"Thank you," you smiled, flashing your teeth before sitting down on your usual spot; just behind the main camera crew.

The two of you had busy schedules, making it difficult for you to coordinate dates. However, a weekly lunch date was a must in your books, so here you were, out early from your firm to meet John before heading out for lunch.

You sat behind the crew, making sure to keep quiet as to not disturb them in their job. An involuntary smile tucked on your lips at the sight of John. He looked dashing---as usual, and your eyes wandered to his furrowed brows, his concentrated stare into the camera. Each small detail of him made your heart flutter. You were whipped.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, making you turn around. You were met with Phil Mattingly's face smiling down on you. "Phil!" you greeted, jumping from your chair to hug him.

"Easy there, tiger," he chuckled against you, holding you down to steady you. Pulling back, you punched his shoulder, your brows furrowed as you scolded him.

"I haven't heard from you in weeks!"

"I've been busy," he defended, crossing his arms over his chest.

Over the past few months, Phil had become one of your closest friends, perhaps because he's closer to your age or that the two of you share the same sense of humour.

“Anyways," he changed the topic before you could drag him. "What's up with you? How are you and John?" his face held a cheeky smile as you diverted your eyes in embarrassment, your cheeks getting warm.

"Oh my god," Phil let out a laugh. "Are-are you flustered?" His roar grew louder, although being mindful of the rolling cameras. A few passersby eyed him and his frantic state warily.

"No!" you shrieked with berserk eyes, hitting his arm again to quieten him.

"Oh no, no, no," he shook his head, attempting to dial down his laugh. "The Y/N L/N is flustered!" he affirmed, holding onto his belly as he tried to regain his breathing.

You scoffed, planting one of your hands on your hip. "First of all, you look insane right now," you squinted your eyes at Phil. "Secondly, I didn't even say anything you just assumed shit."

"And you're supposed to be the lawyer between the two of us?" he asked, not convinced by your half-hearted argument.

"I will prove you guilty for crimes you didn't even commit," you deadpanned, your tone leaving no place for an argument.

"You know it's okay to admit things are going great between you and John," he began, sincerity taking over his voice, "and that you know, you are whipped."

"It's too early!" you exclaimed.

The truth is, you were indeed head over heels, perhaps in love with him. However, there was no way you were going to admit it out loud. The two of you had been going out for only five months, and you weren't about to say those three words without having had a proper discussion about your future with John.

"You can--"

Before Phil can complete his sentence, a hand snakes around your waist snatching your attention. You tilt your head, a squeal almost escaping your throat as you beam at your boyfriend. "Hey, you!"

"Good to see you're not bored," he murmurs, planting a delicate kiss on your lips. Your hands fall on his chest, running your fingers across the lapel of his jacket, a content sigh leaving your lips, delighted to feel him underneath you.

"Never," you giggled, ignoring the teasing smile on Phil's face from the corner of your eyes.

Phil cleared his throat, making you both snap your head towards him, "Well, it was good seeing you two lovebirds, I'm going to head out now."

"Bye, Phil!" you waved him goodbye before turning your attention back towards John.

"Shall we?" he asked, removing his hand from your waist and extending it towards you.

"We shall," you grinned, interlocking your arm with his.

-----

The two of you found yourselves at a quaint little cafe down by the CNN office. You, in a silk royal blue button-up, a pencil skirt and stilettos, and John, in his navy blue suit, stood out amongst the other customers.

"So, Josh wants me on this case even though I already told him that it would be much better if---" You stopped, noticing the absent look plastered on John's face. He was distracted throughout the whole lunch, but you didn't want to seem pushy, so you waited for him to bring it up. However, he never did.

"John?" you called out, nudging his arm on the table. He hummed, snapping his eyes towards you, weakly attempting to smile at you.

"You okay?" you asked, your voice laced with concern, a frown etched on your face. John's eyes met yours as he pursed his lips, seemingly contemplating his answer.

He cleared his throat, "Um, actually I'm not feeling well, I think we should head out early." He avoids your gaze as he spoke, making your heart clench. He was lying, you could tell. Stupified, you nod.

"Yes, of course," you nod frantically, at a loss of words. You try to disguise the hurt. It was perhaps going to be the last time the two of you would see each other for weeks. You had a flight to catch to Chicago tomorrow.

"Will you be okay?" you asked, watching his expression, "maybe you should take the rest of the day off--"

"No, it's okay," he shook his head, brushing you off. "I'll manage."

You wanted to leave it at that, taken aback by his sudden dismissive demeanour. He seemed fine back at the office. However, now it seemed to be some other case.

"C-can I come over tonight?" you ask meekly as the two of you gathered your belongings, John asking for the cheque. "Because we won't see each other after tonight."

You hated how weak and desperate you sounded in front of him. It was so unlike you. Goodness, what has he turned you into?

"Uh," he pauses at his words, putting on his suit jacket as you waited for an answer. "I think it'd be better if I just spend tonight alone, I don't want you to get sick or anything," he reasoned.

You nodded a blank look on your face, "Uh-huh."

"Yeah, you're right."

He almost didn't even notice the robotic tone of your voice.

"You know what?" you smacked your lips as you two walked out of the cafe. "I just remembered, I have this thing I've got to do before I head back, so why don't you go on ahead, I'll just Uber."

John stopped at his feet, opening his mouth to object, but you were already on your phone, ordering a ride. You missed the torn look on his face, nearly mirroring yours.

"I guess we will see each other later then," he stated, shoving his hands inside the pant pockets, watching as you continued to stare at your phone's screen.

"Yes, later," you clarified, announcing that your ride was here.

You were about to walk towards the car when you called out his name again.

"Next time, you don't have to lie to me."

With that, you turned your back, not giving him another glance.

No kiss, no hug, just gone.

-------

John was aware he had fucked up--big time. If he only he hadn't let the thoughts of jealousy consume his mind at the sight of Phil and you together. As much as he tried to push them away, they always came back to haunt him, making him insecure more and more.

You were gorgeous, charming, and any man would be lucky to have you. Moreover, you were significantly younger than him. In his mind, you were deserving of someone far younger than him--someone like Phil. He knew the two of you got along well, and he couldn't help but let his mind poison him, making him push you away.

He groaned, leaning his head against the headrest of his chair. He could feel a headache approaching. He had to fix this before it was too late. You would be gone tomorrow, and he might just lose you.

He'd been avoiding the discussion about your age-gap, but he knew he'd have to face it sooner rather than later.

John made his way to your apartment with a bouquet of orchids and Thai food, knowing that the frail possibility of dissolving your anger could only be done through food.

He rang the doorbell for your apartment, a silent prayer on his lips that you don't shut the door on his face. He could hear your hurried footsteps from inside the apartment and a faint 'coming' before you opened the door, your hand freezing on the doorframe as soon as he came in sight.

"Hi?" John began with an arched brow, an apologetic smile on his face. You were still wearing the same clothes from earlier except now your hair was tied in a ponytail and your feet bare of the heels that you often hated to wear.

You didn't speak, your hip coming to rest against the doorframe while your eyes studied him, up and down. "I thought you were sick," you finally spoke, crossing your arms across your chest.

"Well..." he sighed, "I was being a dick."

That's the only shortened explanation he could give on your doorstep, and you don't skip a beat on agreeing with him.

"That's an understatement," you lift your hip off of the doorframe, stepping aside to let him in. He's surprised you didn't ask any more questions.

"Also," he starts, stepping into your place, making you turn around. "For you," he extends the bouquet and the food towards you, and predictably you roll your eyes at him before taking the food first.

"You sure do learn your lesson," you state, placing both the items on the table. Earlier, you had been upset and angry, seething even, but as the hours passed you realised there wasn't anything particular for you to be mad about. You didn't even know the reason behind your silent spat.

"Y/N," he calls out, reaching out for her hands. He waited for you to react---perhaps pull away from his touch, but it never came. So, with a sigh, he began his apology.

"I'm sorry for acting the way I did during lunch, I understand it must've made you feel neglected and I---"

"John," you interjected, tucking on this hands, making him look up from your intertwined hold.

"I don't care about that," you stated with a weak smile, one that did not reach your eyes. "I just want to know what was bothering you."

You didn't care for an apology that would make no sense to you, you also had no time for that. "I don't like being kept in the dark, especially if it concerns me or our relationship," you added pointedly.

"The truth is, I was jealous."

You blink at him, once and twice, trying to make sense of him. Jealous? Now, where the hell did that come from?

'What?" you scrunched up your face in utter confusion, waiting for him to continue. "You were literally fine in the office--Oh."

That's when it hit you. Phil, oh my god he was jealous of Phil!

He opened his mouth, trying to explain himself. However, you can't help the laugh escaping your throat as you begin to topple over in laughter, letting go of his hands to clutch your belly.

"Y/N," he calls out dryly. It was important for the two of you to have this conversation, and it wasn't possible if you were almost about to hit the floor, laughing.

"Sorry," you cough out, covering your mouth with your palm. "I'm sorry, you got jealous of Phil?!" As the word leave your mouth, you begin laughing again, this time far more controlled.

"Sweetie--" you wrap your arms around his shoulders as John purses his lips, staring at you with an unamused expression.

"No, we need to talk," he interjects, and you can't find it in yourself to continue with your circus. You shake your head violently, clearing your throat before you looked up at him with earnest eyes.

"Shoot."

"There is a huge age gap between the two of us," he begins.

"---which I'm fine with, you know that," you interject, pouting. It was something you had clarified weeks into your relationship. You didn't care that John was so much older than you, he made you realise you preferred them--him over guys your age.

"Yes, of course, I know that, but I still can't help but wonder how much easier your life would be if you were with someone more like Phil, someone you connect with more," you know his concern is sincere, the little frown on his face making you want to run your finger along the deepened lines.

"I don't want someone like Phil," your friend's name making you roll your eyes, "I want you." You jabbed a finger into his chest, staring up at his aquamarine blue eyes with adoration and a hint of transgression.

"Y/N, my darling, I just don't want you to regret this later on," he brings one of his hands to cup your cheek, his thumb grazing over your cheekbones as his eyes gleam with a delicacy you'd never seen in him before.

It almost looked like he was afraid of losing you. Almost.

You knew that the two of you were having a moment. However, your brilliant mind couldn't help but divert this situation and speak out what you said next.

"Are you afraid Phil could fuck me better than you?"

John’s eyes widened as he tilted his head back in shock. “OH,” he said. “That’s what you think this is?”

You could back away from this, but you knew you wanted to see what this jealous sight of him would bring out. 'Oh yeah," you shrugged.

John stepped closer to you, towering over you. You stumbled backwards until you were against the door of your bedroom. Now, how the hell did you get here? He pressed himself against you completely, trapping you there. He leaned down so his mouth was next to your ear. “I’m going to prove to you just how good I can fuck you,” he whispered lowly.

You gasped quietly. “I’d like to see you try.”

John slammed his lips against yours, his weight pressed against you, and it felt like he was trying to devour you. He had his forearms pressed against the door on either side of your head while you grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, pulling him as close as you could get him. He used one hand to cup your face, giving him more leverage.

You pushed him backwards, giving you the ability to move away from the door. He grabbed you close, turning you and moving you through the door to your bedroom. He slammed the door loudly, causing you to shiver with excitement.

John grabbed the hem of your shirt, pulling it off over your head. You fiddled with the buttons of his shirt, silently thankful that he had taken his jacket off earlier, eventually slipping it off his shoulders. He broke away to pull his own pants down, kicking them off along with his shoes. You did the same, leaving you in just bra and panties. He pushed you back into a wall, attacking your neck with his mouth. You dug your fingers into his hair, tugging at the grey strands lightly. He sucked at the spot just under your jaw, which he knew you loved, causing you to moan quietly.

“What?” John growled, causing you to shiver. “Are you enjoying this?”

“Mm-mm,” you hummed in defiance.

He chuckled darkly. “Maybe I’m not doing enough.” He ground his hips against yours, and you could already feel his erection through two layers of clothing. You raked your fingernails down his back, whining at the friction.

You tugged at the elastic of his boxers. “Off,” you said simply. “I want these off.”

He grabbed both of your hands, pinning them to the wall above your head. “So eager,” He moved his lips up to yours, silencing any reply you had.

He expertly used one hand to unclip your bra, letting your arms go so he could slip the straps off of your shoulders. The bra fell to the floor at your feet as he pinned your arms to the wall again. His free hand took hold of one of your breasts, rubbing his thumb in circles on your nipple. You moaned into his mouth, biting his lower lip gently. He chuckled as he gave the breast a squeeze, causing your knees to buckle slightly. You felt him smirk with satisfaction.

“W-whatever you wanna do,” you stuttered, “just do it already, y-you coward.”

“Funny.” He hooked a bit of your underwear with his finger, snapping it back against your hip. “You just said another man could perhaps fuck you better, and now you’re practically begging for me.”

You let out a hot breath. “I-I’m not begging. And you have yet to show me any proof that you’re superior.”

His eyes darkened. “Okay.” He let go of your arms, using both hands to pull his boxers down. His member sprang free, already leaking precum and exciting you even more. You took your panties in your hands, pushing them down your legs until they lay on the floor. You stepped out of them and kicked them to the side; you’d deal with all the clothes later.

John reached down, teasing your entrance with his finger. He slowly slid it inside, causing you to gasp loudly. He slid another digit in and started pumping them in and out. You grabbed onto his shoulder, trying not to make too much noise. One, because your neighbours complained the last time you had sex too loud, and two because you wanted to rail him up as much as you could. You were loving this side of him. You dug your fingernails into his skin, no doubt leaving several crescent-shaped marks.

“I’ll make you scream,” he said huskily. “I know what you’re doing, and it’s not going to work.” He curled his fingers, making you throw your head back and bite your lip hard enough to almost draw blood. “You really think a boy could fuck you better?"

You let out a shaky breath as he continued to finger you, eventually adding another digit while your head still lay against the wall. “Ah, shut the fuck up.”

John pressed his mouth to your collarbone, giving the area an open-mouthed kiss. You dug both of your hands into his hair, breathing heavily to avoid making any noise. He slowly moved his mouth down until he reached your breasts, nipping at the skin and leaving a trail of little purple marks.

You grabbed his face in both of your hands, pulling his lips into yours. The sudden movement caused him to remove his fingers, making you slam your legs together at the sudden empty feeling. He grabbed your hips, wiping the fluid from his fingers off onto your skin. He pulled you closer, and you could feel his heart going a mile a minute. He dragged you off the wall, pulling you down to the floor with him. He hovered over you, using his arms to support him.

John positioned himself, so his member was aligned with your entrance. He gave you a look as if asking for permission.

“Get on with it, pretty boy,” you whispered, moving your face to his ear. “I want to see what all this hype is about…”

His pupils dilated at your words.“Darling, you asked for this,” he growled. He slowly buried himself inside you. He didn’t give you much time to adjust before beginning to thrust, snapping his hips forwards. You wrapped your legs around his middle, giving him a new angle that sent immense pleasure throughout your body. The scratchy carpet against your back was a very different feeling than when you had sex on the bed, but you couldn’t deny that it was incredibly hot; you could learn to enjoy this.

You dug your heels into John’s back while digging your fingers into the carpet. He kept hitting your sweet spot deep inside you, and you figured you wouldn’t last long, especially not with the foreplay that just took place. You pressed your lips into a line, still determined not to make any noise.

John went back to your neck, sucking on the soft skin just below your ear. You threw your head back, biting your swollen lower lip.

He smirked, noticing your action. “So, you’re really trying to be quiet?” He rotated his hips roughly, making you let out a tiny whimper.

“Yeah…” you choked out. “And I’m doing a great job, aren’t I?”

He caught your lips with his, beginning to thrust again. “Not for much longer.” He forced his tongue into your mouth, fighting with yours. “You dirty girl.”

You clenched around him. He knew you liked the dirty talk, and he was going to use it to his advantage. “J-John…” you whined.

“What?” he grunted. “You like having my dick inside you? You like it when I fuck you? C’mon princess, tell me how good it feels.”

You loved every single word coming out of his mouth, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. You leaned up and put your forehead against his, pressing your lips together tightly.

“C’mon baby girl, say it.” With every word, you felt yourself getting closer to the edge. “Tell me, who fucks you the best?”

He hit your g-spot repeatedly, causing you to let out a quiet moan. “Y-You do,” you whispered.

“What’s that?” He took one of your breasts in his hand, fondling it roughly. “Who makes you feel good?”

You grabbed onto his shoulders with both hands, letting a few strained noises out. “You do.”

“Say it louder.” His thrusts continued at a desperate pace. “I wanna hear my name from that pretty mouth.”

“You do, John,” you squeaked. “You make me feel so good.”

“Louder,” he groaned.

You moaned his name, feeling like any small thing could send you to your orgasm.

“Louder!” he shouted.

You screamed, digging your nails into his skin as you felt the waves of pleasure roll through you. You tightened around him, so much so that he came only a few seconds after you, emitting a dirty string of words. You let out an almost pornographic moan at the feeling of his warm seed on your walls. All the pent out noise came out in about thirty seconds, causing John to smirk in satisfaction; mission accomplished.

He pulled out, watching the combined cum falling out of you and staining the carpet. He stood up and made his way into the bathroom, coming back with a warm, wet washcloth. Kneeling down next to you, he ran the washcloth between your legs, cleaning up all the fluid that rested there.

You sat up, grabbing his face and pulling him into a short, sweet kiss. “I’m sorry for saying that,” you whispered, running a thumb across his lower lip.

He wrapped you up in a tight hug. “I’m sorry for being a dick to you earlier.” He chuckled. “At least we both had fun.”

You smiled, contemplating whether you should confess or not. Ah, fuck it, you thought.

"I love you, John."

John kissed the top of your head, reciprocating your smile, “I love you more.”

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crazy-loca-blog · 4 years

Text

Personal thoughts on Open Heart Second Year, Chapter 20

Note: As the title says, these are just personal opinions on Choices books and chapters. Of course, you may agree or disagree with them, I only use this platform to express my thoughts on what I read every week and what I’d like to see in the next chapters, because none of my friends play Choices so I have no one to comment the books with.

That’s a wrap! I can’t believe Book 2 is over. And just like everyone, I didn’t know how I felt about the final chapter of the book… until I started writing this… and I had a realization just as our MC did (of course, this led me to write this post from scratch like three times!). You know… it wasn’t brilliant, but it wasn’t a bad ending… I’d say it was pretty correct… and maybe even better than we think it was. Let me show you why:

At the very beginning, I had this kind of bittersweet feeling, just like everyone else. But then I replayed the chapter a few times to try different options and routes, and I started noticing that the writers made some amazing job paying attention to many of the little details we got to see throughout the book and finding a way to put them all into the final chapter. Everything was a lesson, everything made sense and everything almost everything got a closure… and that’s just some awesome writing, guys. Trust me, I had a long list of complaints, but by now, my only complaint is that the chapter was way too short.

Let’s begin with the main issue of this chapter: Leland Bloom and the check. I had the same question as the MC for a whole week. Why would the man give a billion dollar check to a second year resident? And with the sneak peek it kind of hit me: Leland not only was trying to buy Edenbrook, he was also trying to buy us… because for him, it’s always about money. I could even see our MC going through the same dilemma that Jackie faced with Panacea. And I have this gut feeling that what we decided to do with the check may have an impact in Book 3.

To be honest, at first I didn’t pay much attention to the scenes with Sienna, Aurora and Elijah. Even though I have to admit I missed Kyra on this set of dialogs, I was glad to see that the writers gave us some time alone with them and I loved how different their answers were. However, I saw them as some kind of filler content… like “oh, we need to add an extra conversation with our friends because it’s the final chapter”.

The same applies to our LIs. At first, I didn’t know if asking our LIs for advice was a good idea unless you’re romancing Ethan (based on the fact that he’s also our mentor and the only person who knows Leland Bloom as much as we do). I would have even added Naveen and Harper to this set of dialogs, as this was more a professional thing than a personal issue and they would have surely given our MC a great piece of advice (especially Naveen!).

But then, it hit me. This wasn’t just a set of random conversations. Instead, the writers made an amazing job mixing the storylines of every one of our friends and LIs with the conversation about the check and Leland Bloom, and that led to different realizations based on who you chose to talk to. That was simply brilliant and it reminded me why I love this series so much… nothing on these books is written at random. Everything has a purpose and sooner or later, it always clicks.

Based on the same premise, can we talk about how our story with Esme seemed to be coming full circle? No matter how your relationship with her ended (at least not yet), we finished our story with her right where we started: healing her wounds. However, there is something that is kind of bothering me. During our conversation, Esme told us that Leland had reached an agreement with Levi’s family, so the lawsuit wasn’t a problem anymore. And here we go again. We know that Leland isn’t the type of person who does things just to help people… and now I can’t help wondering if he may have found a new ally in Esme. Will she keep the secondary role she got in Book 2 or will she become a more important character in Book 3?

Another cycle that was closed during this chapter was Kyra’s. I’m so glad that she was finally declared cancer-free (can we just stop for a moment and give Bryce the credit he deserves for this? PB didn’t do it, so we should!), but it kind of shocked me to see her go and realize we won’t be seeing her in Book 3, especially because she is part of our gang now. Her departure really got me wondering if this is PB’s way to prepare us for the final goodbye in Book 3. I’m also wondering what the writers have planned for Rafael. After all he went through, I’d really like to see him back in Edenbrook… but not as a paramedic. I know he said he wouldn’t go back to hospital life, but after all the physical therapy he got, I think this would actually be a great job for him. He loves to help people (and that’s something he won’t get rid of easily because it’s his nature), he loves exercising and, at the same time, he needs to calm down and take life slowly. I don’t know about you guys, but after all the complaints to have him back, and now that he’s finally fine, I need to have him around!

As per the romance with our LIs, please don’t laugh at me, but I think PB decided to ground us all. For a whole book this fandom has been so focused on “fighting” over LIs, that I can imagine the OH writers saying something like “You know what? Enough! Let’s remind them who is in charge of the narrative here!”… and that’s how they fooled us all.

However, if you’re romancing Bryce, Ethan or Rafael (sorry Jackie stans, maybe it’s because of the path I read, but I don’t feel the same about that relationship), they certainly gave us all those “we’re in a real relationship” vibes at the party… and at the private party as well. By now, I think there are some things that go without saying, and even though we’re probably not getting the content we thought we would have, things look very official to me. Sometimes you just don’t need words, you need actions, and those three guys have shown our MC all their love through them. Every piece of advice, every conversation, every small detail, even in the sex scenes you may see there has been an evolution… and I’m not talking about how kinky things became, but about what’s behind it… you can definitely see two people who trust each other, who feel confident about what they have, and who look like people in love. But of course, they won’t say those three words yet. I’ve always felt like PB is very respectful of the timing (not only in OH, but in their books in general), so I wouldn’t imagine them saying “ILY” right now, especially because after all the ups and downs of the plot, things are just starting to take their final shape for Book 3. But if I go back to the final 30 diamond scenes in Book 1 and compare them to the ones we got in Book 2, Chapter 20, you can safely say the relationships with all three male LIs are at a whole new level now.

Finally, one of the things that worried us the most was the insane amount of subplots this book had. Did they manage to give closure to all of them? Let’s see:

Aurora Emery: For a whole book, Aurora felt like she was “the lesser Emery”. We went back to college with her and we got to know about her struggles to make friends. Finally, she found her own closure in Chapter 17, after having an amazing heart to heart conversation with her aunt. So yes, her subplot did have a closure.

Sienna Trinh: Our sweetheart spent two whole books involved in toxic relationships: first, with her boyfriend, and then, with Mitch, her intern. Even though she only recognized the toxicity of her second relationship, I’m glad that she’s finding peace after losing Danny and I’m hoping for her to have an awesome Book 3 just because she deserves it. But yes, her subplot did have a closure.

Elijah Greene: Our boy was the first character who made it safe to Book 3. He had some issues when trying to keep boundaries with Sothy, his intern, and it seems our choice to help him or not, actually had an impact on the relationship between them both and in Sothy’s performance as an intern. So yes, his subplot definitely did have a closure.

Jackie Varma: Her conflict with Panacea was fully addressed in the Vegas chapter. However, we still don’t know if having her name in the list of doctors who received money will have some long-term effect. Will this be a topic they’ll rekindle in Book 3? I have a gut feeling that this might be one of the subplots that was carried to Book 3. So no, I’d say her subplot didn’t have a closure.

Bryce Lahela: The Lahela siblings subplot was one of my favorites of Book 2. Keiki is an awesome teenager, and seeing Bryce growing so much as a character was a delight and it made me really proud. He sacrificed everything for his sister, to the point he even swallowed his pride and talked to his parents to ask for help. So I’m glad to say that yes, this subplot had its happy ending and found its proper closure.

Rafael Aveiro: Book 2 was a such a self-discovery journey for Rafael. As I said last week, I think he was a mess the whole book, and I don’t think this had to do with the writing, but actually with the fact that, before the incident, he was questioning his life and everything he loved (even his feelings for our MC). The incident not only was a “rebirth” for him, it gave him a whole new perspective on life and it challenged him through his recovery process. Did he find closure? I don’t think so. Only the incident had a closure, his existential problems still have a long way to go.

Ethan Ramsey: Ethan had two face not only one, but two conflicts. The first one was personal: not only his mom returned after abandoning him 25 years ago… he had to deal with the fact that she was an addict. So even though it seems like everything was solved after he left her at the rehab center, I don’t think this is the last time we’ll see Louise, as there are some things that were left like hanging (for example, who was she talking on the phone when we first met her?). So… did this subplot have a closure? Probably yes, but I’m not a 100% sure. Then we had his professional conflict: the money problems were never about the money, but about being loyal to Naveen’s mission. Was this solved? Absolutely yes! It only took him a conversation with Naveen to realize that he could carry his mission wherever he goes.

Esme Ortega: Esme probably got the worst part when it comes to subplots. She actually had two of them and I don’t think any of them was properly solved. The first one was the harassment she suffered when we first met her. The “closure” was treating the guy for a serious illness, talking to him and then leaving the incident behind… or diagnosing him with dementia so he had to quit his job? I mean… really? And then we have Levi’s case. Sure, everything was properly solved after Leland Bloom and Levi’s family reached an understanding and avoided the lawsuit… but we’ll never know if she actually did it, won’t we? Where is the “resident-intern” confidentiality we talked about in Chapter 7? Sorry, but this is a HUGE NO for me.

I know there are some things I might be missing now, but I’m actually saving them for a future post. As per Book 3, my bet is that we’ll be having a new release in February, just to keep in line with the releases of the first two books. Will Book 3 be the last one of the series? Honestly… I don’t know. I know the series is supposed to be about our three-year residency, but now I have some doubts. First of all, medical drama is a topic where you can constantly add new content without necessarily repeating the formula. Also, the fact that was mentioned that Bryce’s residency lasts 4 years instead of three is kind of giving me some hope of a fourth book. Finally, let’s face it: Open Heart and The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir are currently the most successful series for PB. And after seven books, it’s time for the TRR gang to take a break. Maybe it’s time for Open Heart to pick up the slack.

Our MC: Even though I don’t think our MC had a plot that needed to find closure, the book certainly left us some uncertainties about their story. And the most important one is the lack of PTSD after the incident. Well… let me tell you that maybe not everything is lost. I was so curious about it that I actually did some research. And guess what? There is something called “delayed-onset PTSD”. This form of PTSD appears at least six months after a traumatic event, and in some cases, it even takes years to appear. However, this does not mean that an affected person has no PTSD symptoms prior to this six months period. This would match exactly with our MC’s behavior after the incident. So now that our friends issues seem to be mostly solved… maybe it’s time for our MC to face their own problems?

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nyxshadowhawk · 3 years

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An Analysis of The Ninth Gate

I finally got around to watching The Ninth Gate after it was recommended on Occultism with a Side of Salt. Seriously, why did it take me so long to watch this film? This is pretty much everything I like! It’s a film from 1999 (incidentally, the same year as Eyes Wide Shut) starring Johnny Depp as an expert on rare books called Dean Corso. It’s based loosely on a novel by Arturo Pérez-Reverte called The Club Dumas, and was directed by Roman Polanski (who’s the man behind Tanz der Vampire, but who is extremely problematic and we do not stan). Corso is employed by a rich book collector named Boris Balkan to authenticate his copy of a grimoire called The Nine Gates of the Kingdom of Shadows, which may be the coolest title for a grimoire ever. The book is supposedly designed to summon the Devil himself, and was copied from another mysterious book that the Devil was said to have written. Corso compares the grimoire with the two other existing copies to find out which one is the real one, but there are mysterious deaths and other unsettling events around the book, and he has a mysterious girl helping him.

The film is very spooky and has a wonderful Dark Academia aesthetic. What’s most interesting to me about it is, although it isn’t authentically occult, it feels very authentic. The grimoire is clearly modeled after real ones. The engravings in the book also could easily be mistaken for real ones if I didn’t know better. I think that the pentagram on the cover is a little too on-the-nose, especially since pentagrams weren’t associated with Satanism until relatively recently — I think the Sigil of Lucifer would be a better fit, since it’s reasonably well-known (for example, the Mother Superior of the Satanic Nuns in Good Omens wears one instead of a cross) and it comes from a real grimoire. That’s me being very nitpicky, though. Although this film follows some tropes of Hollywood Satanism, its portrayal of that is still more realistic than normal. Real-life occult ritual groups are more like book clubs or potlucks, but the actual ritual part can in fact look something like the one in the film. (Sure, it wouldn’t be in a mansion with cool-ass gargoyles, but this is certainly more realistic than Eyes Wide Shut.)

This film feels authentically occult becuase a lot of real occultism is pouring over old books and analyzing symbolic images. I do a lot of that! Right now, I’m reading a dictionary of alchemical symbolism. I hope to eventually be able to look at all the weird images in alchemical manuscripts and make some sense of them. This film is basically about doing exactly that. I noticed the tarot symbolism in the engravings immediately, and I felt a little like I was trying to decipher them right alongside Corso. It reminded me of solving Nox Arcana puzzles, and that just makes me incredibly happy. The approach this film takes is also realistic — (slight spoilers) it could have gone the classic Hollywood route of summoning Satan to destroy the world and all that, but it doesn’t. Instead, the end goal is more abstract and spiritual, much more in-line with occultists’ actual goals in real life. Just as in alchemy, the goal is not to make gold or live forever, but to experience spiritual transcendence, and this is encoded in alchemists’ notes and artwork.

So, I want to try my hand at deciphering the engravings’ secrets, and test my own knowledge of occult symbolism in the process. Everything that follows involves major spoilers, so I will dispense with the exposition and assume that you have already seen the film.

I’ve seen it argued on YouTube that the engravings represent actual events in the film, and some of them seem to. Bernie is murdered and hung upside down, the collapsing scaffolding is the “danger from above” arrow, Corso is hit in the back of the head in one of the film’s most chilling scenes, and the Girl (who is implied to be Lucifer) ends up… well… “riding” him in front of the burning castle. But come on, that is way too easy. For one thing, the related events don’t seem to occur in any specific sequence, either the engravings’ numbered sequence or Balkan’s rearranged sequence. It would make sense if Corso would have to experience every engraving and “pass through each gate” — that happens a lot in films like this one, where an eerily coincidental series of events plays out just as in the book/prophecy/whatnot. But that doesn’t really happen, or if it does, it’s not obvious enough for the only interpretation of the engravings to be literal. What impresses me the most about The Ninth Gate is that it goes for that more figurative, spiritual dimension. That is really what makes it feel realistically occult.

The real solution to the engravings seems to be spiritual growth or enlightenment, which is the goal of most occultists. Balkan sort of understands this, which is why he disdains Telfer and her coven being edgy and playing dress up instead of really making an effort to understand Lucifer’s secrets. And yet, Balkan also fails, because he is after power, not enlightenment. It seems as though both of them misunderstand Lucifer, believing him to be the kind of Lucifer that you usually see in these movies. (That would fit in well with his name and his role in the Eden story, if you interpret it that way.) If we assume that the Girl is Lucifer, then she is more benevolent an influence than anything else. Hell, Corso doesn’t even suffer any “temptation” consequences from having sex with her. Corso wins in the end because he actually puts in the effort, and the Girl helps guide him toward enlightenment. Maybe Lucifer is a good force in this film’s world. Lucifer’s own versions of the engravings seem to emphasize that s/he is genuinely invested in helping his/her followers towards enlightenment.

When Balkan assembles the engravings in the proper order, this is his interpretation of the riddle:

To travel in silence, by a long and circuitous route, to brave the arrows of misfortune, and fear neither noose nor fire, to play the greatest of all games and win, foregoing no expense, is to mock the vicissitudes of fate and gain at last the key that will unlock the Ninth Gate.

First, I want to say that this riddle reminds me a lot of the Emerald Tablet. It’s similarly cryptic, and I only sort of have it figured out. I love that something like that is real and authentically ancient. Anyway, moving on. I’ll go through the engravings in the order that Balkan puts them in (as opposed to their numbered order), and see if I can make sense of them.

The first engraving shows a knight traveling towards a castle. In the AT version of the engraving, the castle has four towers, while in LCF’s version, it has three. Balkan’s interpretation is “To travel in silence,” while the caption is “Silence is golden.” That immediately reminds me of the common occult maxim, “To Know, to Will, to Dare, to Keep Silent.” I’ve never been much of a fan of keeping silent, which is why I post things like this on the internet, but in general occultists tend to be secretive folk. According to this article, another translation of the caption is “Only one who has battled according to the rules will prevail.” I’m not sure whose rules are being referred to here. Lucifer’s, maybe?

This is one of the only engravings in which there is no obvious tarot symbolism. There are four Knights in tarot, one for each suit — wands, swords, cups, and pentacles — but this knight doesn’t have a symbol of any of the suits or anything that could suggest that. The difference is in the castle towers — three in LCF’s, four in AT’s. In traditional numerology, three is a number symbolizing perfection and creation, as in the Holy Trinity, while four is the number of the solid and material and unlucky. (Source: Richard Cavendish, The Black Arts). Sets of three are especially common in fairy tales and mythology — three siblings, three tasks, three encounters, three magical objects, three questions, three trials or tests, repeating an action three times with the third time being different or conclusive, etc. Lucifer’s castle at the end also has three sets of towers. The most obvious interpretation of this is that your destination will be either material gain (AT) or spiritual advancement (LCF).

In the tarot, the threes represent the completion of the first stage of a venture — the Three of Wands represents a successful enterprise, the Three of Cups represents celebration and fulfillment, and the Three of Pentacles represents recognition for your achievements. All of them have something to do with attainment except for the Three of Swords, which represents loss, heartbreak, betrayal, etc. The fours aren’t bad, representing stability and structure — the Four of Wands is joyful and peaceful, the Four of Swords takes time to rest and recoup, the Four of Cups is bored and listless, and the Four of Pentacles receives material abundance. All of them are a bit more grounded and material, so I think it makes the most sense to interpret the difference in this engraving as being the spiritual three vs. the material four, and leave it at that.

The fourth engraving, which is second in Balkan’s sequence, is of a jester standing at the entrance to a labyrinth. In LCF’s version the labyrinth’s exit is open, while in AT’s it is bricked up. Balkan interprets this as meaning “by long and circuitous route,” while the caption reads “Fate is not the same for all.” that seems fairly straightforward — Balkan and Corso have different fates. Corso is able to find his way out of the Labyrinth, but Balkan’s exit is bricked up. This is because he never properly experienced the journey the way Corso did, he just wanted the payoff and tried to take shortcuts.

The Labyrinth is a very old symbol, and it carries the dual symbolism of a death trap in which there is a Minotaur, and a path to spiritual enlightenment. It can represent the Underworld or the darkness of the subconscious mind, with the Minotaur being your Shadow. Either you are trapped in the Labyrinth and eaten by the monster, or you find your way back out into the light having gained some self-awareness. The jester is probably meant to represent 0 The Fool, who, in the Tarot, is the naive adventurer who sets out on a spiritual journey over the threshold and into the realm of the subconscious and symbolic — i.e. the Labyrinth. As for the dice in the foreground, this seems to reinforce the caption’s point about fate. But dice, like tarot cards, can be used as both a game and a divination tool — it is the assumption of the diviner that random chance is always meaningful. And indeed, the visible faces on each die add up to 6 — 666.

The third engraving depicts a traveler walking towards a bridge. In the clouds above him, there’s a Cupid-like figure with an arrow pointing down at him. Balkan’s interpretation is “to brave the arrows of misfortune,” and the caption is “The lost word keeps the secret.” AT’s version is pictured here; in LCF’s version, there are two arrows, the other one pointing upwards in the quiver.

This traveller looks much more like the traditional Tarot depiction of 0 The Fool than the jester. The Fool is happy-go-lucky and doesn’t notice the danger he might be walking into. TV Tropes describes The Fool trope as referring to a person who, despite having no idea what they’re doing, doesn’t come to any harm because of their luck and innocence. So, the traveler will probably not be hit by the arrow, the same way Corso avoids the collapsing scaffolding. The two arrows in the LCF version seem to reinforce the idea of there being two possible outcomes. The arrow pointing up and the other one pointing down could also reference the famous occult maxim, “As above, so below,” adding another spiritual dimension to it. Balkan’s interpretation of the engraving reminded me a lot of a certain famous soliloquy: “To be or not to be, that is the question: / Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer / The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, / Or to take arms against a sea of troubles / And by opposing end them.” In this scene, Hamlet is considering whether or not to take his own life. But when applied to this engraving, these lines seem to once again suggest the two possible outcomes — you can suffer and die, or move on towards your goal.

And then there’s the caption. “The lost word keeps the secret.” Well, it’s pretty obvious what that refers to — the ninth engraving, replaced with a forgery that changes the meaning of the entire thing. The missing engraving contains the secret. But that caption seems completely irrelevant to this engraving, except that the face of the archer doesn’t look remotely like a baby’s, as putti usually do — it looks like an old man’s, specifically, the Ceniza brothers’, who removed and replaced the missing engraving.

The sixth engraving, fourth in Balkan’s sequence, depicts a man hanging upside-down by his ankle, and an arm with a flaming sword reaching out of a castle tower. Balkan’s interpretation of this is “and fear neither noose nor fire,” which proves he knows fuck all about tarot. No wonder he got the riddle wrong. This one is so blindingly obvious. The man isn’t hanging by his neck, he’s hanging by his foot. He’s the Hanged Man.

XII The Hanged Man is a strange and disturbing card at first glance, but it has become one of my favorites. The Hanged Man is almost never depicted hanging by his neck; he hangs by his foot, and has a serene expression, indicating that he wants to be there. He represents going through a period of tribulation, suffering, surrender, or introspection in order to obtain wisdom, enlightenment, self-awareness, and insight. He goes through a metamorphosis, just like the caterpillar that hangs upside-down in its chrysalis to become a butterfly. He’s a Christlike figure, evidenced by the halo around his head in the Rider-Waite deck, and the fact that he willingly suffers for a higher purpose. He even wears the same colors as Jesus in Da Vinci’s The Last Supper in the Rider-Waite deck, although I’m not sure if that’s on purpose or not.

The caption to the engraving is “I am enriched by death,” which is a million times more meaningful than Balkan’s interpretation. If you’re an occultist, that line is probably self-explanatory. Pretty much everything mystical involves that theme of (symbolically) dying and being resurrected. The alchemical process has three stages — nigredo, which is death, albedo, which is the ascension of the soul, and rubedo, which is returning to life in a “purified” body as a more spiritual being. The Hero’s Journey follows this same pattern — the hero entering the Underworld or the Labyrinth and facing trials that allow them to spiritually ascend and achieve apotheosis (or something close to it). It’s everywhere in books, movies, and video games. It is the initiation ritual. Most occultists figuratively go through it in one way or another. And in tarot, XII The Hanged Man is at the rough midpoint of the Fool’s journey through the Major Arcana, and immediately followed by XIII Death. “I am enriched by death.” You cannot be reborn as a new and better version of yourself without first having died.

The difference between AT’s and LCF’s engravings is that AT’s has the Hanged Man hanging by his right foot, while LCF’s has him hanging by his left foot. I don’t think this changes the meaning of the engraving too much. In Rider-Waite, the Hanged Man hangs by his right foot, but in the Tarot de Marseille, which is older, he hangs by the left foot. The only significance to this that I can see is that the Latin word for “left” is sinistram, and the word “sinister” has its current meaning because left was considered Satanic. Left-handed people were discriminated against for this reason, until as late as the mid-20th century. In occultism, the “Left-Hand Path” is an approach to magic that involves rejecting tradition and dogma and generally being edgy. I think that the right-hand and left-hand paths are a false dichotomy (you use both your hands, don’t you?), but anything Satanic is considered part of the Left-Hand Path. Jung associated left with the unconscious, so we’re back to the Labyrinth.

I don’t have much to say about the flaming sword. It could be foreshadowing Balkan’s death (more on that later), or it could represent the flaming sword of the angel of Eden (i.e. guarding spiritual knowledge).

The seventh engraving, fifth in Balkan’s sequence, is of a king and a peasant playing a chess game. Two dogs are fighting in the background, and the moon can be seen through the window. In AT’s version, the board is black, and in LCF’s, the board is white. Balkan interprets it as “to play the greatest of all games,” and the caption is “The disciple surpasses the master.”

The tarot symbolism that I see here is that of XVIII The Moon, which has dogs baying at it in the Rider-Waite deck. The Moon represents the subconscious, imagination, and dreams, but also nightmares, madness, and illusion. The illusion here is probably still the missing engraving being replaced by the forgery. The themes of the subconscious get reinforced. Underneath the Moon, a black dog and a white dog fight each other, almost seeming to create a yin/yang shape. This brings the dark and the light into balance, the same way the Moon spends equal times dark and bright as it goes through its phases. The game is chess, which is played with black and white pieces, and the board is either black or white. The game seems to be a draw, making the peasant and the king equals, just as the dogs are unable to defeat each other. So, this engraving is all about reconciling dualities.

There’s another layer to this. God is the “King of Kings,” so this could demonstrate a human becoming God’s equal. This is basically the goal of occultism — to become like God, in some form. Left-Hand Path’ers in particular seem to like the idea of becoming gods themselves, or even “surpassing” God. Since the book was created by Lucifer, this could tie in to Lucifer’s desire to become God’s equal that got him cast out of Heaven (but I’m not the biggest fan of that story, so I won’t go any further with that). To the occultist, man is God, just as God can become a man — as above, so below. That’s also a form of reconciling the duality of human and divine.

The caption, “The disciple surpasses the master,” probably refers to this, but it could also refer to Corso surpassing Balkan and succeeding where Balkan failed. Any good teacher wants their students to have learned so well that they surpass them. God (or Lucifer) intends for his disciples to surpass him, but Balkan tries (and fails) to prevent Corso from surpassing him.

The fifth engraving, which is sixth in Balkan’s sequence, depicts a man counting coins while Death stands behind him with a pitchfork and hourglass. Balkan’s interpretation is “and win, foregoing no expense,” while the caption reads “In vain.” Balkan is an idiot. Exactly like the man in the engraving, he is focused entirely on the money and completely misses the literal shadow of Death standing behind him. How does one overlook the significance of that? There’s a big difference between “I won the game so now I get money” and “in vain”! Of course, this means that Balkan is too focused on material pursuits and misses that he is about to die. In AT’s version, the sand is at the top of the hourglass, while in LCF’s version, it is at the bottom — the man has run out of time. The expression “you can’t take it with you” comes to mind. Money and material goods don’t ultimately matter compared to spiritual growth. “In vain.”

In tarot, XIII Death almost never represents physical death. Instead, it represents change, usually a change for the better. Death is about letting go of old things so that new things can come, stepping through a threshold into another life or state of being. This can be difficult or emotionally painful, but it is necessary and ultimately beneficial. If The Hanged Man is the chrysalis, then Death is the emerging butterfly (the Greek word psyche means both “soul” and “butterfly,” because butterflies represent the souls of the dead). Once again, Death is a required step towards spiritual advancement. And if you refuse to acknowledge this, it isn’t going to go well for you.

The checkerboard floor probably continues to reinforce the theme of duality. As for the pitchfork, maybe the reason Death has a peasant’s pitchfork instead of a scythe is because pitchforks are associated with Satan, or it could be a representation of peasants taking revenge on rich people. Or it could be a reference to American Gothic. I think it’s the first one.

The eighth engraving, which is seventh in Balkan’s sequence, depicts a praying man about to be bludgeoned by a knight with a mace, with the Wheel of Fortune in the background. Balkan’s interpretation is “to mock the vicissitudes of fate” and the caption says “Virtue is defeated.”

The Wheel of Fortune is a medieval motif that shows how fortune is apparently random. Some get to be kings, others are serfs, and your fortunes can turn at any moment. Just when you think everything is great, someone hits you on the back of the head. In tarot, X The Wheel of Fortune means exactly what you would expect it to — a twist of fate, a change of fortune. Whether it’s for better or for worse depends on the context and the cards around it. Life is full of ups and downs, so enjoy what you’ve got while you have it, etc. Sometimes when it shows up, it can mean that you should trust in fate.

But that’s the background. What to make of the foreground? Honestly, this is the most disturbing engraving to me, especially with the accompanying scene where Corso gets hit in the head. By whom? It’s probably Telfer’s lackey, because the knight in the engraving kind of looks like him. And if the caption is “Virtue is defeated,” the praying man hasn’t been defeated yet. The knight is about to hit him, not already standing over his body. It could be an example of “bad things happen to good people” — being virtuous won’t stop you from suffering. Since Corso is the one who gets hit in the back of the head, maybe that indicates that he’s the most virtuous character (which is saying a lot, since he’s not exactly an upstanding person). In LCF’s version of the engraving, the knight has a halo — does that mean that defeating Virtue is a good thing? I guess that would make sense if the artist is Satan? Or does it mean the knight is protecting the praying man? I don’t know. I genuinely am not sure how to interpret this one. What I do know is that Balkan is still an idiot. Nothing about this suggests mocking fate. If anything, this is an example of succumbing to it.

The second engraving, eighth in Balkan’s sequence, shows an old man with a dog, holding two keys in his hand. In AT’s version, the keys are in his right hand, and in LCF’s, they are in his left hand. Balkan’s interpretation is “gain at last the key,” and the caption is “Open that which is closed.”

This is another obvious tarot image. This is clearly The Hermit with his lantern. IX The Hermit represents withdrawing into solitude for contemplation and meditation, to gain spiritual wisdom and awareness. Like the Hanged Man, he indicates a need to be passive in the service of introspection. He’s the archetypical guru on a mountain, and he holds the keys to enlightenment. Keys represent access to information, and the ability to pass between worlds. “Open that which is closed” is pretty obvious — unlock the gates, receive spiritual insight. LCF’s version having the keys be in the left hand just reinforces everything I said about left earlier.

Also, that Hebrew symbol next to him is the one for the number nine. That suggests that the Hermit is right in front of the Ninth Gate. In numerology, nine is a magical number, being three times three. It represents completeness, spiritual achievement, and initiation. So, that’s self-explanatory. In tarot, tens are the ultimate state of completion, so the nines are the penultimate step — the Nine of Wands gives you the strength and willpower to overcome obstacles, the Nine of Cups represents success and contentment, and the Nine of Pentacles represents celebrating an accomplishment. (Once again, the Swords are the outlier, representing fear and despair.) Nines in general are good, the perfection of three multiplied by itself. (The Hermit is also the ninth card of the Major Arcana, if you noticed.)

And finally, we come to the ninth and final engraving (that Roman numeral should read “IX”). This depicts a woman who looks suspiciously like the Girl reading a book, ostensibly The Nine Gates of the Kingdom of Shadows, and riding a dragon with seven goatlike heads. There is a castle in the background, and the castle is a real place. There are three versions of the engraving — this one, which is signed by AT and has the castle as-is, a forged LCF engraving that shows the castle in flames, and the real one. Balkan’s interpretation is “that will unlock the Ninth Gate,” and the caption is “Now I know that from Darkness comes Light.”

The woman is apparently an image of the “Whore of Babylon” from Revelations, who rides a seven-headed dragon. I’m not really sure what she’s supposed to represent, beyond being generally Satanic. Of course, Crowley recasted her as a sex goddess. The seven heads of her dragon are significant — seven is the number of secrets, mysteries, magic, introspection, and searching for inner truth, which have been running themes this whole time. It also signifies creation, completeness, and rest, since God created the world in seven days. In tarot, the sevens present a new challenge after the perfection of the sixes — the Seven of Wands brings new obstacles that require determination to overcome; the Seven of Cups represents imagination, dreams, and illusions, so back to The Moon again (and the illusion of the forgery); the Seven of Swords also represents deception or a con artist (like the Ceniza twins, or maybe Balkan); and the Seven of Pentacles represents a threshold or a new opportunity, and reflecting on one’s achievements. That all aligns scarily well with the situation here.

The critical illusion is that the “LCF” engraving with the burning castle is a forgery. So, Balkan sets himself on fire for no reason other than egomania. This image is similar to XVI The Tower in Tarot. The Tower is one of the scariest cards to get. If Death is a difficult but beneficial change, The Tower is a dramatic turn for the worse, complete destruction and devastation. It is struck by lightning and destroyed, going up in flames. I drew this card shortly before the pandemic hit. That was The Tower — destruction, upheaval, devastation, but with the promise of rebuilding. I also had to deal with a lot of emotional turmoil because of an unrelated thing that happened around the same time, and it shook me to my core. So, obviously the forged engraving leads to Balkan’s destruction.

The true ninth LCF engraving shows the sun shining from behind one of the castle’s towers:

Replacing The Tower with The Sun is a drastic difference. If The Tower is one of the worst cards to get, XIX The Sun is one of the best. The Sun is a good omen in every capacity. It represents everything that these engravings have been working towards — spiritual growth, fulfillment, success, enlightenment, revelation of secrets, good fortune, etc. It fits right in with Lucifer’s status as the Light Bringer, and it is the solution. (The true engraving is also very reminiscent of The Star, which directly follows The Tower, and represents hope and the light at the end of the tunnel. I drew it recently, signifying the end of my emotional turmoil.) The jagged rocks at the bottom of the castle in the other two versions are missing here, and the castle is more accessible, with a visible path. The woman gestures directly to it.

The rest of the scene is much more shadowed in the true version, which fits right in with the caption: “Now I know that from Darkness comes Light.” I, in my obsession with Shadow work, interpret this as confronting the dark parts of oneself and bringing them out into the light to become a whole person, and to grow spiritually. This goes back to the Labyrinth, needing to enter the dark Underworld or the realm of the subconscious in order to gain spiritual wisdom and finally achieve enlightenment. Everything in the engravings seems to point back to that — needing a period of introspection, reconciling of duality, obtaining safe passage through the various trials until you see The Sun, which is followed by Judgement (resurrection) and The World (fulfillment). The Nine Gates of the Kingdom of Shadows are like the seven gates of the Underworld that Inanna must pass through (and that eight-pointed star is a symbol of Inanna). Corso passes through the Ninth Gate, out of the Kingdom of Shadows and into the light.

Balkan’s interpretation is clearly off. So, let’s rearrange the engravings back into their intended order:

Silence is golden. Open that which is closed. The lost word keeps the secret. Fate is not the same for all. In vain. I am enriched by death. The disciple surpasses the master. Virtue lies defeated. Now I know that from darkness comes Light.

If you, who seek after secrets, wish to unlock the gates to wisdom and enlightenment, be wary of potential dangers and missing pieces. You can either suffer and die, or move towards your goal. You will either find a way out of the Labyrinth or find that your path is blocked. Do not pursue material gains, and miss the shadow of Death hanging over you. Face Death, and you will be enriched by it, gaining spiritual insight that will allow you to surpass your superiors and become God’s equal. After a final challenge, test of virtue or twist of fortune, you will emerge from the darkness and into the light.

Am I reading way too deep into a spooky movie? Maybe, but come on! How could I resist? Do any of you have interpretations of your own?

Sources:

https://slapphappe.wordpress.com/2009/03/22/symbolism-in-the-ninth-gate/#%3A~%3Atext%3DThe%20fire%20at%20the%20Ninth%2Cof%20the%20Kingdom%20of%20Shadows.

https://davidjrodger.wordpress.com/2011/08/24/the-ninth-gate-occult-and-tarot-like-symbolism-in-the-engravings-by-aristide-torchia-and-lucifer-plus-wider-meanings-of-the-movie/

#the ninth gate #the ninth gate film #johnny depp #johnny depp movies #occult #occultism #occult symbolism #tarot #tarot symbolism #occult symbols #movie analysis #spooky #dark academia #dark acadamia aesthetic #occult films #lucifer

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illfoandillfie · 4 years

Text

5 Simple Rules For A Successful Fake Relationship: The Perfect Match (Epilogue)

5 SIMPLE RULES MASTERLIST

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Summery: What happens after you tell Ben you love him?

Warnings: SMUT (18+), oral sex (f receiving, implied male receiving), fingering, nipple play, it’s mostly just fluffy bullshit lmao

Words: 7129

A/N: Epilogue time! Apologies for taking so long to get this written, it’s been a rough few weeks. But we’re finally here!

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @vee-ndetta @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois

@coni-martina @hardforbenhardy @cubedtriangle @vicouscirce @arianabrashierstuff @pattieboydwannabe @maggieroseevans @theprettyandthereckless

Being in Barcelona with Ben was like having a fresh start. One without intrusive photographers or the pressure of being walking advertisements for a movie. You almost had to physically push Ben out of the hotel on the first morning you were there. He was reluctant to leave you but, being lead actor, couldn’t exactly skip work. At any rate, you wouldn’t let him. It wasn’t so bad spending the day holed up in his suite. You went back to bed after he’d left and then, once properly rested, put music on as you caught up on emails and the like. In the afternoon you popped downstairs to explore the square the suite looked out on, visiting a quaint little bookstore, a shop full of touristy knickknacks, and a cute café that sold maybe the strongest coffee you’d ever had. Having so much time to yourself also gave you a chance to call Felicity and have a long conversation with her, filling her in on exactly what had happened after you got on the plane. She was thrilled to hear it had gone well and took a large part of the credit for herself.

“Afterall, I was the one who told you to get off your arse. If I hadn’t you’d still be crying in bed,” You laughed and conceded she had a point, “but you’re not the only one who gets credit,” “Fine, but it’s like 90% down to me.”

But, even with so much to occupy you, by the end of the day you were eager for Ben to get back, bored of being on your own, ready to have the conversation you’d both been too tired to fully have the previous night. When he di[d finally walk through the door it was obvious he was just as keen to see you. You heard the thump of his backpack hitting the floor just inside the door and then him calling your name. He found you on the couch and rushed up behind you, leaning in for a kiss when you tilted your head back to greet him. “I love being able to do that,” he said softly as he sat down, making you smile. He asked how your day had been as you shuffled closer, letting him drape an arm around you and pull you against his chest. And for a while that was all you talked about, your day and his, everything you’d got up to. His had been a little busier, working with the stunt coordinator and fight choreographer in the morning so they could film the scene in the afternoon. Completely different from the prep you’d done for The Perfect Match, but you could tell how much he enjoyed it from the way he spoke about it. Even if he did end up with a few bruises as proof of his hard work. Before long though you had to address the question hanging over your heads, had to have the talk. It wasn’t an easy conversation. It took some time and meant being open about the previous few months – the insecurities and fears that had kept you from recognising and acting on your feelings, the impact being in the public eye had on you, the pros and cons of dating another actor and, perhaps most importantly, potential challenges you would face because of your previous history. You both readily admitted there’d been some rough moments when you’d handled things poorly and the question had to be asked of if you’d be able to move on from those patches and any wounds they’d caused. Any lingering reservations you had about Ben and his willingness to make it work were quickly put to rest. He was the first to offer up his vulnerabilities, both personal and professional, and discuss the space where they intersected with you. It was all you needed to be fully assured he was in it for the long haul. Of course, you reciprocated his openness with confessions of your own, harder to get out than you’d imagined, but he was patient and leant you a reassuring hand squeeze when you needed it. It wasn’t exactly fun but it was a necessary evil. And by the time you were done you both knew exactly where you stood and were in agreement about how to move forward, making it all worthwhile.

Neither of you felt much like going out afterwards though so you ordered room service, making sure to get a bottle of wine with the food, and celebrated quietly. Ben ran down to the nearest store and bought a few candles to make it seem a little more romantic and promised to take you out on a proper date the next night. “So would that be our first date? Or does everything from before count too?” you asked around a mouthful of food, looking at Ben across the candle lit table. “Huh, good question. I think it counts,” “Really?” you laughed, “I was about to say it doesn’t. It was all planned by other people and not really…real,” “Hey, not everything was planned out for us. That date where we painted mugs was all my idea and, might I add, something I’d thought about specifically to impress you. It was on my list of potential dates in case I got the chance to ask you out after we wrapped. Same goes for that brunch place I took you and the ice skating rink. Also those dates were part of what me fall for you so they kind of have to count.” You had to smile at that, “When did you know?” “Uh,” Ben dropped his gaze to where his hand lay on the table, “Our first date.” “Really?” “I’d already liked you for a while and then you went and decorated a mug with lyrics from the song I heard every time I looked at you.” It wasn’t until after he’d finished speaking that he lifted his eyes again, giving a small shrug. “That’s so ridiculously sweet, Ben, I might have to kiss you about it.” “Well I’m a sweet guy Y/N,” he was almost laughing when you made good on your threat, standing up from your side of the table and nearly pouncing on him. He just pulled you further onto his lap, the dinner forgotten as you revelled in the knowledge that making out was allowed now, encouraged even. “You wanna move this to the bedroom?” Ben asked, illuminated by the dancing flames more than the lights you’d left on. “I don’t normally sleep with a guy on the first date,” you said, pretending to weigh up your options as you twirled a strand of Ben’s hair around your finger. “We just agreed it’s not our first date. Closer to our fifty first probably.” “Hmmm, you make some good points, babe,” His face lit up and you nearly fell of his lap as he sat forward, “are we allowed to do pet names again?” You groaned into his shoulder but he just chuckled “You wanna move this to the bedroom, cuddle bunny?” “I hate you,” “No you don’t,” you could tell he was grinning, even with your face buried in the crook of his neck. “Little bit.” “Aww c’mon cuddle bunny, don’t be like that. I’ll make you feel real good.” “I don’t know Ben, you’ve got a lot to live up to.” “I do?” “You don’t remember? First night I stayed over at yours you made some pretty big claims about what you were capable of. Said if anyone asked I should tell them I came like three times,” you put air quotes around his words. “So you’re saying if I prove that I really am that good, you won’t complain about cuddle bunny or any other nickname I come up with?” “I never said that,” “You basically did and the challenge has been accepted.” You broke into giggles as he pushed you from his lap, only to lurch forward and kiss you, smiling himself. He led you into the next room, discarding clothes along the way.

***

You laughed as you sat on the bed, watching as Ben hopped through the doorway on one foot, trying to kick his pants off his other leg as he went. Your shirt and bra had been lost somewhere between the table and the bed, his shirt discarded even earlier. He gave you a slightly sheepish smile as he finally managed to free himself from the jeans and followed you towards the bed. You leaned back, still on the edge of the bed, propping yourself up on your hands to keep your eyes locked on him and he followed, caught your lips again though softer than before, one hand hovering just above your shoulder, fingertips barely grazing you. It was miles from the first time you’d slept with him, when you’d both been full of alcohol induced confidence and a lack of clear thought. You pushed yourself closer to try and let him know he could be firmer, that you’d like it if he was. Instead he pulled back even more. “Is something wrong? Do you not want to do this?” “No, no I absolutely do. Just,” he smiled again, the shy half smile that made him seem even more boyish than usual, “you’re gorgeous and I kinda can’t believe this is happening. Again. Just give me a second to let it sink in.” “Benjamin I swear, if you start crying,” “I’m not going to cry,” he chuckled, “probably.” You waited, watched his eyes roam over every inch of you from your hairline to your waist, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. Finally he kissed you again, already almost breathless, his hand cupping your jaw as if he had to work up to touching you elsewhere. Slowly his touch fell lower, neck, collarbone. When he grazed your breast he pulled his hand back again but you hummed at the contact and he replaced it. You stopped holding yourself up, let yourself lay back against the mattress as his lips moved to your throat, his thumb teasing the nipple it found to a stiff peak. It left your hands free to wrap around him, hold him against you. “Do you mind if I leave some marks?” “Go ahead,” you said, far more concerned about losing the feeling of his mouth on you than what would be left when he was done. You felt him nuzzle his nose against the underside of your jaw, and then a tingle down your spine as he found a spot to leave a large purple bruise, close to where he’d first given you a hickey at your request. You made a low hum and tilted your head to the side, exposing more of your neck to him, and he delighted in filling the space with more marks. Three along the column of your neck, one on your sternum and one on your right breast. “How’s it look?” you asked, as he raised his head from your chest. “Perfect. But that could just be because your boobs are right in my face. Very nice view.” You gave him a light pinch for his cheek but he didn’t react, far more interested in creating another hickey on your chest. “Hope you weren’t planning on filming any topless scenes anytime soon,” he mumbled, moving to repeat the process on your other breast, “makeup’ll have a hell of a time covering all these.”

By the time Ben was ready to continue his trail lower you were aching for more. Your underpants were slick with your need, nipples hard as Ben’s saliva caught the cold air he blew over them. Again you were struck by how different to last time it was. Then it had been fast, only minutes between being pushed up against the door and having his fingers in you. But now? Now Ben was taking his time. You understood why, of course. Back then you’d been trying to reach the end before either of you could think for half a second about it being a bad idea. You’d been drunk and clueless about how much you’d both wanted it to happen. All you’d had to do was palm him over his pants and he was raring to go. Not so much this time. He was certainly worked up, you’d found as much when you’d tried to cop a feel. But he stopped you before you got too far, laced his fingers through yours so you couldn’t stroke him off. He responded to your whine with a line about having a reputation to live up to and then let go of your hand as he slipped off your lap to the floor. He made you wait as he tugged your pants from your legs and then left another mark on your hip. You opened your legs wider for him, earning a small nip against your thigh. “Wish I’d done this for you last time,” he said softly, kissing the spot that was still tingling from the scrape of his teeth. You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch, “If you’d done this last time I’d have confessed my love a whole lot faster. Could-coluld’ve saved me the cost of the flight here.” You voice shook as he pressed his tongue to your soaked underwear and you briefly wished you’d packed some actual lingerie and not just your every-day sensible cotton knickers, but Ben clearly didn’t mind. “Cute panties,” he said between sucks through the material, “that wet patch from your pussy or my mouth?” He laughed as he pulled them off you, dropping them unceremoniously to the side as he sat up higher on his knees.

The next thing you knew was Ben’s fingers on either side of your lips, pulling you open. He glanced up at you, grinned when you whined softy, didn’t break eye contact as he dragged his tongue over you. No more build up, no more playful comments as he took his time exploring you. Just his mouth on you, determinedly pushing you to the edge. You let your head fall back with a squeak as he nudged your clit with his nose, following it up by sucking the nub into his mouth, pulling a moan from you. Your breath caught when he slid two fingers along your slit, coating them in your arousal and a whiny expletive was your response to one entering you. Ben pulled back and gave you a wink as he added another finger. You’d have told him off for being so cocky if you hadn’t felt so good. Instead you fell back to the mattress completely. “That feel good baby?” He asked between licks, stretching you out, trying to find the same spot he’d reached last time. “So good Ben,” “I love the way you say my name.” He pressed a third finger into you, shifted the angle slightly, and without thinking you twisted a hand into his hair, let him hear his name again. He hummed though you weren’t sure what caused it, only that it felt incredible, his lips wrapped around your clit. With soft encouragement he made you tip over the edge, squirming under him as you rode it out. He was gentle when he pulled his fingers from you and left a kiss against your thigh, waiting for you to come back to earth before he began gloating. “That’s one. How do you want the next? Same thing?” It took you a moment to figure out what he meant but he filled the time by kissing a path back up to your lips, shorter than the trip down had taken. “Well? What next?” he asked again when it seemed like you weren’t going to reply. “I could blow you,” you said, once again dropping your hand to try and rub him through his underwear. “Save that for another time. I’ve got a promise to make good on and an adorable nickname to give you.” “I was hoping you’d say that. Really want you in my pussy.” Ben laughed and leaned in to kiss you again, evidence from your orgasm still on his lips and chin, before pushing himself away to finish undressing. You watched him closely, taking in the V that was exposed and the light trail of hair leading under his waistband, the way his thumbs hooked into the material, the slightly theatrical wiggle he made to shake his pants off, how the second he was free of the fabric his hand came up to stroke over his length, seeking some brief relief. He turned away to grab a condom and you made yourself comfortable on the bed, moving to lay back against the pillows rather than hanging over the edge. And then Ben was practically diving on top of you, making you giggle as he kissed you again and again and again. Until he stopped to sit back on his legs, tearing open the condom with his teeth. “Can I?” you asked, pulling your lip between your teeth. “Sure,” As Ben nodded you sat forward, took the condom from him and closed your other hand around him. “Shhhhit,” he breathed out,” “C’mon babe, ‘m already h-hard. Just wanna be in you.” You hummed in agreement but took your time rolling the latex down his shaft as you pulled him into another kiss, thoroughly enjoying the noises he made in response. Soft throaty sounds, little whines muffled by your lips. You would have been happy just jerking him off except for the needy throbbing between your legs that made you hyper aware of how empty you were. “Lie back for me,” he said softly as soon as you pulled your hand away. You did as requested, settling back against the pillows once more. Ben nudged your legs open wider and finally sank into you, both of you gasping at the feeling. You moaned softly when he slowly pulled back and thrust forward again, wrapped your legs around him because it was the only way you could think of to get him closer. Carefully he took one of your hands in his, laced his fingers through yours and then repeated it with the other hand, holding them against the mattress as he fucked into you. His forehead dropped to yours as he let a curse slip into the air, “Didn’t a-appreciate your pussy enough last time. So fucking tight.” You couldn’t think how to respond, just squeezed his hands, your breath catching in your throat as he rolled his hips against you. He kept the pace steady as he caught your lips again, less coordinated kisses that didn’t always get you full on the mouth as you moved with each measured thrust. Each one seemed to make it harder for you to breathe, your breaths coming in short pants, often accompanied by small whiny noises as you felt yourself getting close again. “Yeah?” Ben asked against your ear, a response to a particularly drawn out whine, “that good, huh?” If you’d been able to form coherent sentences you would have come up with some sort of witty way to tell him you needed more stimulation to actually get off. Instead all you managed to do was stumble through the words close, please, more as he nibbled on your earlobe. “Show me,” he rasped, releasing one of your hands so you could slip it between your bodies. I wasn’t long before the speed of your fingers on your clit outstripped Ben’s movement, your growing need to finish pushing you to rub faster, press harder. He groaned into your neck as you finally hit the edge and pulsed around him, pulled out before it became too much. You let your legs fall from where you’d hooked them around him though you whined at the loss. “Don’t worry,” he said softly as he took your hand and lifted it from your cunt, “more where that came from.” Ben pulled your hand towards him, leaning in to close the gap and suck your fingers into his mouth. You were sure you could have cum from that alone if he hadn’t already made you cum twice.

It didn’t make it easy to catch your breath or calm down entirely, but Ben was content to wait, thoroughly cleaning your fingers before he released them. He pressed a kiss to the inside of your wrist before he let you take your hand back. You let out a shaky breath as you looked up at him and almost laughed, “Jesus,” He stroked your leg gently, “Still one more to go, if you’re up for it. Not too sensitive?” “A little but I should be okay.” “Good. I really wanna give you that nickname. Annoy everyone else with how fucking adorable we are” “Shouldn’t have reminded me what the stakes are, maybe I am too sensitive,”

“What if I said I just wanted to fuck you until I cum then? More acceptable?” That did make you laugh, “Much more acceptable.” Ben grinned, his tongue darting out from between his teeth, and then readjusted your position. His arm wrapped around your hips, pulling you up into the air, as he leaned on the other and slid back in, deeper than before. “This okay?” “Y-yeah, yes,” As soon as he knew you were okay with the new position he began moving, faster than before. The angle he held you in meant he was hitting your sweet spot consistently which, aside from feeling good, meant your clit got a bit of a break. It felt even better when he dropped his head forward and gently tugged on your nipple with his teeth. You brought one hand up to grab his hair as he switched to soothing the nipple with his tongue. You had a hard time getting out anything other than a few curses and his name as his thrusts became more urgent but Ben had no trouble telling you how good you felt. Well, some trouble. His words came out stuttered and breathless and interrupted by curses of his own or sometimes muffled by your breasts. But that was a turn on in itself. Hearing Ben losing control, coming apart, because of you. It was enough to make you want to cum faster so you could hear him moan through his own release. You remembered what he sounded like last time and were eager to hear it again. So once again you let your fingers find your clit, shivering at the slight discomfort as you tried to match Ben’s rhythm. “God I’m gonna,” you managed to choke out, fingers tightening in Ben’s hair. “P-please Y/N, cum. I ne-ed you to cum.” Your voice caught in your throat as you tipped over the edge again, Ben doing his best to hold you up as he lasted about a second longer, pretty moans spilling from his lips.

***

Afterwards you could barely find it in you to move. You stumbled on jelly legs towards the bathroom as Ben cleared away the condom and straightened the sheets, ready for you to curl up with him. You had just enough energy to fall into bed and lean your head on his chest. He pulled the covers over your legs and stroked your hair with one hand, his fingers catching in the odd tangle though he was careful not to pull too hard. His other hand smoothed up and down your arm, so gently it took you a few passes to notice. He was quiet for a while, watching you relax against him. And then, seemingly out of nowhere, “Think that means I win, right cuddle bunny? Or do you prefer honey bunch? Snuggle bug? Sugar bear? I could go on,” “I think cuddle bunny might actually be the lesser of all those evils,” you mumbled. “You sure that’s not cause you got used to it and now you kinda like it?” You gave a non-committal hum in response. Ben’s chest shook as he laughed but he protested when you made to sit up, assuring you he liked having you leaning on him like that, “Told you before, I like being the boyfriend and what kind of a boyfriend would I be if I didn’t let you use me as a pillow?” You couldn’t help but smile when you heard Ben refer to himself that way, happily settling back against him. He was right, the title suited him. You couldn’t wait to introduce him as such to Felicity and your other friends.

You stayed in Barcelona with Ben for a few weeks. Once or twice you snuck a peek at a gossip blog or a twitter hashtag, but most people’s attention seemed to be diverted from you onto other unlucky couples. There were a few threads about you not being home and a handful of photos of Ben and other cast mates taken from their Instagram accounts, sometimes accompanied by speculation of if their relationship was purely professional, but nothing much else. You were both thankful for that. It was easier to find your feet as an actual real couple without being hounded about it or seeing speculation about yourselves. You were free to visit restaurants and tourist spots on dates, explore the city together on days Ben wasn’t filming, just be more or less normal. A few times you accompanied Ben to set or out with the rest of the cast, listening in as they teased him for how much happier he was now that you’d arrived. There were a couple of sticky beak questions about the breakup the first time you joined them for dinner, but you laughed it off as nothing more than misinformed rumours and they readily believed you. Aside from being contractually obligated to keep the secret, it was just easier to pretend the previous few months had been real than try to explain it all. Of course, pretending was made all the easier by Felicity and Joe knowing. Joe had been happy when Ben told him the good news. He’d been a little annoyed too and threated Ben with the silent treatment, claiming it’s what he deserved for being so stupid, the sudden click of him hanging up startling you both. Ben’s phone rang again about thirty seconds later as Joe called back to claim responsibility for your reunion. “I totally knew you idiots liked each other and if I hadn’t helped, Y/N never would have got to Spain.” Ben leaned in to where his phone rested on the table, speaker on, “If you knew why didn’t you tell me she was into me?” “Pretty sure I tried! But you were too hung up on being all heartbroken to listen to me.” “Umm incorrect,” “Should have heard yourself man, boo hoo Y/N doesn’t love me like I love her, wah wah wah. Didn’t want to hear anything else.” Ben flashed you a disapproving look when you let out a snort of laughter and then turned back to the phone, “You’re such a dickhead,” “Call me cupid, Benny boy, I’m the reason you’re not crying in the shower anymore.” “You’re fucking full of it, cupid,” “Go on Y/N, tell him I’m right,” “Well,” you said, trying not to laugh again, “Joe did tell me where to find you,” “Exactly!” came the shout from the phone, “Y/N, I’ll give you some of the credit for actually flying to Spain, but It’s like 85% down to me.” “You should meet my friend Felicity. You’d get along.”

On quieter days when everyone was doing their own thing and neither of you felt much like leaving the suite, you’d sit around and help Ben learn his lines or stretch over his lap and work on a crossword puzzle together. Although, that was if you made it out of bed. Ben ran through his condoms in the first week you were there, both of you eager to make up for the missed opportunities and all the time you’d spent pining for each other. More than once he came back to the hotel to find you wearing nothing but one of his shirts, which invariably ended with him between your legs in one way or another. Or, when he was flushed and sweaty from whatever action scene he’d been filming that day, he’d slyly announce he needed a shower and suggest you join him. But eventually the real world called, quite literally, in the form of Mary letting you know you’d got the part in the witch movie. It deserved a celebratory drink out at a bar the cast had found, where you and Ben riled each other up so much you had no choice but to relieve the tension the minute your door was shut behind you. And then again first thing the next morning. Unfortunately, you couldn’t stay more than a few days after that. You had to fly back home and begin prepping for your new role. Thankfully it was being filmed around London, saving you from having to head out to the US straight after getting home from Spain. But it did mean leaving Ben, an occurrence neither of you were thrilled about, feeling like you’d not had as much time together as you would have liked. You decided to do something special for your last night so Ben booked a table at a nearby restaurant. He met you there straight from set, wearing nice pants and a dressy shirt rather than the trackpants and ratty tee you'd seen him in that morning, where you surprised him with a bouquet of flowers similar to those he’d given you on your make-up date so long before. “I love them,” Ben laughed, kissing your cheek as he pulled you into a hug, “I think the colours make my eyes pop,” You playfully shoved him away towards the restaurant but he grabbed your hand and pulled you against him. He was about to kiss you when a familiar clicking sound distracted him. Both you and Ben looked around, surprised and confused, and saw a young woman walking down the street, fingers quickly taping against her phone. Ben ushered you inside the restaurant and, as soon as you took your seats, pulled out his phone. “Bad news. She tweeted it.” “Guess that means the honeymoon’s over,” you sighed. “And we were so close too. Fucking busted with about 10 hours to go.” “Oh well. S’pose everyone was gonna find out anyway. If it wasn’t now it would have been in a few weeks when you get back home.” “Not like we aren’t used to it. So how about,” he poured you both a glass of water from the bottle on the table, “a toast. To being so fucking interesting the whole world wants to know if we’re fucking.” You laughed as you clinked your glass against his a took a sip.

The pre-production part of your new movie kept you busy which had its pros and cons. On one hand it was tiring and a lot of new information to take in. On the other it kept you distracted from the distance between you and Ben and the barrage of questions you were receiving about him daily. You met the women who were playing your sisters and spent a lot of time rehearsing with them, particularly focused on learning how to pronounce the spells you’d be casting and the names of the potions you’d be mixing. Ben chuckled when you told him you’d spent an hour being coached on how to pronounce a single word, a process which included a basic Latin lesson and lots of repetition. “Well at least I didn’t end up with a black eye from it,” you said, pointing at him through the video chat screen. Over the weeks you’d been apart you’d relied heavily on phone conversations and face time calls to keep in contact. There’d been a visit or two when you had the chance but both of you were busy and keen not to be splashed through every gossip rag around so they were few and far between. The calls were easier, more private, and quickly became part of your wind down routine – come home, snuggle up on the couch, and talk to Ben for a few hours. “Hardly having fun if you can’t accidentally get knocked out by a poorly thrown weapon,” “I beg to differ, but you do you Benny,” you laughed, reaching for your coffee. The mug Ben had painted for you. He smiled when he saw it. “Aside from learning Latin and not being beaten up on a daily basis, how’s the movie going?” Ben asked as he reached behind him to adjust the pillow he was leaning against. “God it's been so good so far. The girls are so lovely and fun to be around. Plus, y’know, as someone who spent a lot of her childhood making mud potions in the backyard and playing Harry Potter, getting to run around throwing spells and stuff is kind of a dream come true.” He laughed again, “you’re such a nerd, I love you.” “Shut up. How’s it going in Spain?” “Well I have a black eye and I miss you so... Nah, it’s all going really well. Copped a bit of shit after you left,” Ben rolled his eyes, “apparently I was depressed. But this shoot has been so good. Gonna be kinda sad to be done.” “How much longer have you got?” “Couple of weeks, I think.” “You should come over to mine when you land, I’ll cook you dinner,” “Yeah? I’d like that.” “Course you will, nice home cooked meal, a blowjob, what’s not to like.” “I’ll let you know when my flight is so you can prepare – buy ingredients, do jaw stretches. What’re you laughing for? I’m serious, we both know how big I am.” He laughed, breaking the façade of seriousness as his tongue stuck out between his teeth. “Are you ready for it?” “Beyond ready, I miss sex.” “Not what I meant. There were a few paps waiting for me at the airport last time I was coming back from visiting you. Mostly yelling questions about if we’re really back together.” “How bad is it?” “Not as much attention as we were getting while we were doing press for the movie but it’s pretty annoying.” “They’ll calm down. After they see us a few times and they find someone else to lose their shit over.” “Yeah, probably. But you’re still good with this happening, even with the extra attention?” “Y/N, babe, we talked about this already. We always knew it was likely to happen and nothing’s changed since then. I still want to be with you.” “Just checking,” “I know. Now, I don’t have to be on set for another half hour so why don’t you tell me more about this blowjob I can expect.”

Ben was right, though it took longer to die down than you’d have liked. Felicity alerted you to a number of articles both in print and online after Ben got home. It almost felt like the days of promoting The Perfect Match – photos of you walking hand in hand and sitting at cafes and sneaking kisses on street corners being tweeted and commented on, articles about your latest date and speculation on if another breakup with imminent. The difference was this time you didn’t recognise the people taking the pictures. But, after a month or so, when it became clear you weren’t going to start arguing in fancy French restaurants again the magazines and websites started posting less and less. “It’s like Mary said,” Ben shrugged when you brought it up, “people like conflict and we’re not giving them any.” And that was true. Without the pressure of keeping your feelings hidden from each other or yourselves you were less prone to sulky silences and terse words. Plus no one was telling you to break up for attention. In fact, the months after Ben came back from Spain were better than you’d let yourself believe they would be. You were still working on the witch movie, working title: Toil and Troubles, spending most days and some nights bent over cauldrons of smoking liquid nitrogen and pink slime, or running through forests hoping your pronunciation was correct. Ben visited, sometimes to take you out to lunch or to drop off items you’d left at his place that you were bound to need. Convenient excuses. But welcome nonetheless. At the very least it was good practice for when you introduced him to your friends and family. Felicity insisted on meeting the man who’d caused her best friend so much heartache within the first week of his arrival, a situation that gave you more anxiety than any of the paparazzi ever would. But your worries were for nothing. Ben was perfectly charming and took Felicity’s one or two snide comments with good grace and a suitable amount of remorse. She pulled you aside later to let you know she approved and could see why you liked him so much. You breathed a sigh of relief at that, not needing her approval but glad to have it anyway. That first meeting made you less nervous about the ones that followed, even when it came to your blood relatives. And then, of course, you had to make good on your promise to his mum. He’d had to smooth things over with his family first, having made such a big deal about breaking up with you before he took off to Spain. They’d been surprised when he told them things weren’t working, having believed you quite happy during your visit, and more surprised when they saw you were back together. But if they thought Ben was making a mistake with rekindling the romance they didn’t show it. Angela and Keith welcomed you back to their home with warm smiles and more food than the four of you could eat. You left, still giggling at some of Ben’s baby photos, with a plate of leftovers in one hand and an invitation to come back soon.

It wasn’t until after Toil and Troubles wrapped that you decided to move in together. Ben suggested it casually one night while you were eating dinner in front of a rerun of Friends, the one where Chandler moves in with Monica. The suggestion was accompanied by a joke about how you’d been dating for nearly a year if you counted all the Perfect Match stuff, but you knew he wasn’t really joking. You’d been thinking about it too. You flipped a coin to see who’d be selling their place and didn’t complain when it was you. Ben’s house was already your second home, might as well make it your only one. Luckily, with your movie having started post-production, neither of you were filming and so were free to jump into the process of packing and decluttering and moving. It wasn’t long before you were carrying a box of your clothes up the stairs of Ben’s house, your house now. He followed with another, dumping it in the middle of his living room and telling Felicity to put hers down with it as he ran out to help one of his mates with a bookshelf. The requisite pizza was bought for lunch and beer provided as thanks for everyone’s help before they left, leaving you and Ben with a living room full of boxes and no inclination to go through them. Instead you weaved your way through the blockades, flopping, exhausted, onto the couch. You stretched out, Ben laughing as he lay on you, his head on your chest. “Just a little break,” he said with a yawn and before you knew it you’d both dozed off, warn out from the days exertions.

You woke to Ben digging through the box closest to your head. “Which one of these has all your kitchenware?” he asked when he saw you watching him. “Should say kitchen on the top in blue sharpie, why?” He stood up and walked to another stack, shifting a box off the top of the pile, muttering the word kitchen to himself over and over. You let him search, taking a moment to stretch out the stiffness from napping on the couch. “Did you see those magazines Felicity left?” he asked as he moved another box out of the way. “No, where are they?” “Kitchen bench. You’ll laugh.” You ducked into the kitchen and opened the first one, a copy of Woman’s Weekly, flicking through the pages until you were met with an image of you and Ben walking down the street together. He was looking at his phone and you were talking, head turned toward him. A red circle drew attention to your hand and underneath it was a slightly blurry close up of the same section. Scanning the paragraphs beside the photos the word engaged jumped out at you making you snort. “Knew you’d find it funny,” Ben said, peeking over your shoulder. “It’s not even a proper ring, just some cheap costume jewellery. And it’s on the wrong finger. Bloody hell they’re desperate.” “Look at the other one,” Ben stuck the kettle on to boil, glancing over to watch you as he opened his cupboard of mugs. You pulled the issue of Heat out and riffled through its pages too. “Oh my god,” Ben laughed, “I know right! Pregnant, really?” “I’m never wearing that dress again. In fact I’m going to go find whichever box it’s in and throw it in the donations bag right now,” Ben caught you around the waist before you could take a step, “Don’t do that cuddle bunny,” he pouted, “I love you in that dress. One of my favourites.” “Because it’s easy to take off?” “Because you look cute in it. Being easy to take off is just a bonus,” he pulled you in close and kissed you as you laughed, “speaking of, with you moving in we’ll have to give you a proper welcome. I’m thinking start up against the front door, work out way through every room,” he pinched your bum suddenly, just to emphasise what he meant. “Cool your jets horndog, gotta move boxes out of the way before we can even get to the front door. And I think I need a coffee before I even think about sorting boxes.” “It’s a good thing I was about to make us coffee then. I found your kitchenware by the way.” You looked for the first time at the counter where Ben had set out the makings of coffee. There, amongst the canister of sugar and bottle of milk sat two mugs. The two mugs you’d decorated for each other, side by side.

#my writing #my fics #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy smut #ben hardy imagine #i love writing 2 fucking idiot doofuses #i think they earned this fluff

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babayagakeanu · 4 years

Text

You’re Everything- Neo/Reader*

Summary: Reader’s first time with Neo

A/N: I watched The Matrix: Reloaded again, and the sex scene really hit me in the feels

Y/n paced around her room aboard the Nebuchadnezzar, the combination of three shirts and an oversized sweater making her sweat a little. She had gotten jealous earlier, seeing Neo talk and flirt with one of the new members of the crew. She was pretty, there was no denying that. Long brown hair, Smokey eyes and pillowy lips. She had dropped her cup out of anger, the metal clanging to the floor with a loud bang. She had caused everyones heads to turn, and as Neo’s eyes landed on hers, she felt the blush creep onto her cheeks and immediately stormed off to her room.

It had been a little under an hour when someone knocked on the metal door, and she had half the mind to ignore it if it weren’t for her already rushing feet. She swung the door open and found Neo standing on the opposite end, the holes of his sweater exposing the flesh she desperately wanted to grasp at. The feelings she had begrudgingly suppressed were rising back to the surface, and she didn’t know if she could hold back any longer.

“Y/n, I came to check on you.” Neo stated, watching as your eyes were cast down to the floor in embarrassment. “I wanted to see if you were okay.” Y/n nods, motioning for Neo to come inside. He steps over the metal threshold, taking a look around to find that everything was neat.

“Uh, thanks, Neo. I’m fine.” She watched as he stretched to put away some little things that were strewn across her bed, the muscles of his back stretching and gliding with his movements.

“Yeah? That’s what people who aren’t fine say, so tell me.” She stays silent, her eyes cast down again as her feet fiddled with the cold floor. “You’re never like this, Y/n. Please?” He lifts her chin up and his honey eyes stare directly into hers. She sighs, the slight push of her blowing her hair out of her face.

“It’s nothing, Neo. Please don’t push.” She turns from him, the sting of his hand still on her chin. Neo sighs, running a frustrated hand through the growing hair on his head. Groans of the ship fill the room, a heavy silence between them. She doesn’t know why she can’t tell him, maybe it’s the close friendship they’ve builded over the years, or maybe it’s the slight possibility of rejection. Ultimately, the truth will come out eventually.

“Y/n, I’m not pushing. All I want to do is make you feel better,” Neo paused, distracted by the way her sweater falls off her shoulder, exposing the silky skin that lied beneath. He’d always dreamed off kissing her, feeling her soft lips against his, and watching as she came apart underneath him. He’d loved her, the moment she took the red pill, he knew he was hers forever. Every waking moment of his was spent thinking about her, wishing she was his, wishing everyone knew she was his. “We’re friends, y/n. You can tell me anything.” It was in that moment, that everything she had kept below the surface, had boiled over.

“Is that all I am to you? A friend? Neo, for being the one, you are fucking stupid!” She shouts, not caring who hears the two of them. “Every single day, you are on my mind. You were never just a friend to me, I didn’t take the red pill to just join out of thin air, I joined because the moment I saw you, I loved you. I still do Neo. I love you.” She was in front of him now, gaging his reaction. When she sees that he has nothing to say, she breaks the connection between the two, probably to go cower in a corner of her room. When she’s almost out of his reach, he stretches and yanks her back into his hard chest.

He stares down at her, his once honey eyes now mahogany. Her breathing is erratic, and her pulse is running at 60 miles per hour. “ Do you mean it?” He only asks one question, only needing the truth to confirm his greatest desire. She only nods, and before she can say anything, Neo catches her lips in a bruising kiss.

“I never thought,” He said in between fast and heated kisses, “that you felt the same way. I would’ve told you three years ago.” She moans low in his mouth, the taste of mint filling her mouth. His hand cards through her hair, pulling it a bit to give himself access to her neck. Soft, flirty kisses are left in his wake, sighs of pleasure escaping her mouth. Her grip on his sweater tightens, her nails digging deliciously into his pale skin. The small gathering was still going on in the background, the laughs of their friends filling the ship. Neo slips his warm hand under her shirt, and feels her tense up, worrying finding it’s way onto his soft features.

“Is this okay, Y/n?” he asks, searching her eyes for any indication of discomfort. She nods, she wants to have sex with him, of course. The only thing that’s stopping her is her virginity. “I, um,” she twiddles her fingers together, eyes cast down to the floor again, a common thing to do when she is embarrassed. “I’ve never done...it.” Neo removes his hand from her shirt and brings it up to cup her cheek. “That’s okay, sweetheart. We don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can wait for you, baby.” He kisses her lips, gentle this time, pouring all the love he had for her into the kiss, hoping the words would translate.

“No.” She shakes her head, and Neo almost frowns but she continues, “I want to. Frankly, I was saving it for you, when this time would come, and it did.” She’s all smile now, looking as Neo stared at her as if she was the only girl in the world.

“I love you, y/n. We’ll go as slow as possible, and if we need to stop, you need to tell me, okay?” Once she nods, he’s kissing her again, much more passionate than the other, and she’s pressing her body against his. “You’re so beautiful.” He states, laying her down and marveling at how angelic she looked. Hair splayed against the ratty pillow beneath her, her lip red and swollen from his kisses, and her soft stomach exposed underneath the holed sweater. She blushes at his comment, and he smiles down at her. He grabs the bottom of her sweater, silently asking for permission and she obliges, tearing off the couple of layers beneath it as well. Her breasts almost knock the wind out of him, perfectly shaped and full, with nipples hardening at the chill of the room. He lays soft, teasing kisses on the swell of her breasts, her breathing becoming erratic at the sheer pleasure. His lips finally find a nipple, kissing it first before going in to suck at it, watching as her mouth falls open. He takes it a step further by slightly grazing his teeth against her hardened peak, chuckling at the sound that departs her lips.

“You taste like heaven, baby. Can’t wait to give you my love.” he says, breathless and needy. “Neo, please...” She gasps as he pays her other peak the same attention, hips involuntarily jutting against his own. He groans as he feels her core, warm and waiting for him to devour. His kisses leave a hot trail down her stomach, teeth biting and sucking at the softened flesh as he reaches her navel. His teeth toy with the band of her sweatpants, leaving her completely in awe of him. She’d never seen him so aroused, especially by her. She’d never seen him so beautiful in this moment, the impending actions awaiting before them, the excitement hiding behind his brown eyes. This was real, and she let that sink in for a moment as his hands pull her sweatpants down, leaving her in her black panties, a little white bow resting at the top. Her legs close, suddenly ashamed at the fact that she didn’t have the proper underwear. Neo sees this and frowns, “You’re a fucking goddess, y/n. Don’t shy away from me, can’t you feel how bad I want you?” He presses his covered member, hard as rock and waiting to fill her sweet cunt. She gasps loudly, a sound that rings throughout the room and if anyone would have walked by, they would have heard them. He takes his rough hands and spreads her legs out so that they lay flat against her bed.

His lips leave kisses, each kiss gets closer to her heated core, wet and needy for him. She’d masturbated before, sure, and she’s felt arousal too, but never like this. It’s different with someone you love. She watches in a hazy awe as his hot tongue lay flat against her clothed core, and wiggles a little, causing her to squirm under his hold. With a final kiss on her covered clit, he finally shrugs off the last piece of clothing that is guarding her womanhood. He stops and shrugs off his clothes, y/n watching as his hard cock flings back against him stomach. To say he was a good size was an understatement. He was big, thick and long with a nestle of dark hair sitting at the base of his cock. Neo smirked at her, following her eyes and returning her gaze with his heated one. He sinks down again, laying flat against the bed, the sheets causing a delicious friction under his cock. He stares at her cunt, swollen and drenched in her wetness. She was ready for him, and he was ready for her, too. His lips attached themselves to her clit without warning, inducing a loud cry from her lips.

“Fuck, Neo! I-I need more,” she moans, her hand running roughly through his hair, catching a vice grip in the short strands. He chuckles into her folds, the vibrations making her legs shake against the smooth of his back. His tongue drags slow circles around her clit, teasing her as he inserts a finger into her dripping cunt. The foreign intrusion makes her wince a little, but it subsides after she feels Neo’s tongue move faster. “Oh, Neo!” She gasps, feeling a knot form in her stomach, the ache chasing the pleasure. “I’m gonna—” She screams, her grip on his hair tightens, making Neo groan as he laps up every drop of her juice. He talks her down from her high, caressing her face as if she was a porcelain doll. He kisses her again, the combination of her juices and Neo making her moan into his mouth.

“Okay, princess, I’m gonna go slow, okay? You let me know if anything hurts and I’ll stop?” His eyes hold nothing but love and adoration for her as he slowly pushes into her, the pain that had briefly subsided was there again, this time at full force. Tears prick at the corner of her eyes, and Neo kisses them away. “Are you okay, baby? Do I need to stop?”

She shakes her head roughly, “No, please don’t. I’m okay, just keep going until I tell you to move.” He presses a chaste kiss to her lips, before pushing himself deeper into her burning cunt. Once he’s buried in her to the hilt, she motions for him to move, the slight rush of pleasure slowly eating away at the pain. Once she’s moaning, her hips jutting against his in an attempt to go faster, Neo finally rocks into her, his pace quickening just like his breath.

“Fuck, y/n. You’re so tight around me, you’re practically milking my cock.” he grumbles, fucking into her as she mewls into his mouth. He pulls out of her and flips her over, her back bent and her ass up into his face, her pussy swollen and dripping with arousal. He thrusts back in, the new position making y/n see stars. Her low moans turn into high whines as his tip brushes against her sweet spot, her impending orgasm looming over them like a cloud. “You feel so good inside me, baby! I fucking love you so much, Neo!” She gasps, the sound of his balls slapping against her thighs adding background noise.

“Fuck, I love you too, sweetheart, I’ve been waiting for this for years. I don’t know how long I’ll last.” He’s slamming into her at a brutal pace, causing y/n to clench around him as her second orgasm hits her harder than ever before, slumping around him as her legs shake and her body spasms. He holds her with a strong arm around her stomach, continuing to thrust into her as his hips stutter and stall, spilling deep inside of her with a throaty groan.

———————

They lay in bed, sheets thrown over them as they stare at each other, basking in the post orgasmic glow. Her lamp creates a golden hue, and Neo presses soft kisses to her shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Neo asks, throwing an arm around her waist and pulling her flush against his chest, the warmth making y/n sigh in delight. “Surely, you must’ve see the way I looked at you, y/n. The way my heart felt like it was in my throat when we spoke, or when I would make you laugh, your hand would always hit my chest or rest on my arm. You’re everything to me, y/n, I love you.”

She was asleep, but he knew she heard him subconsciously, and that was all he needed as they dozed off, ignoring the whoops and hollers from the team.

#Neo x reader smut #the matrix #the matrix reloaded #keanu reeves x reader smut #keanu reeves #i love Neo #virgin!reader #tiny bit angsty #Neo is a soft boi

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symphonicscans · 3 years

Text

Fujimi Orchestra - Wandering Violinist (Book 2, Part 1)

Author: Akizuki Koh Illustrator: Keiko Nishi (Read Book 1 Here)

Content Warning! 18+ Yaoi/BL/Soft Noncon This volume doesn’t have rape per say, but there are references to what happened in the first volume, so just in case I’m still providing a warning. Nothing is super explicit. Also, if you want to start with this book there is plenty of recap throughout the book to catch you up on characters and situations.

And we’re onto book 2! This book also has two parts, so hopefully I’ll have the second done in the next few weeks. If you want to read on Google Docs: https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vSuh6ZZf--fQVn8mkSKkovlnZgIfKcD0vL1dmNRBBo2xVNMPw3EHBpNChs0vW4zq5qymXWQcZsvZmib/pub#ftnt1

Part I : Wandering Violinist

I have no apartment… no roost… not for tonight. I looked around in the hot and humid summer night; I couldn't even mumble because I was completely stunned by the situation. If I had to guess at the statistics, I’d say that the Fujimi-cho neighborhood -- where 80% of the residents live in apartments -- is like a ghost-town every year around this time. This is because there are many brave people who insist that they celebrate the ‘Bon Festival in my hometown,’ undeterred by the hustle and bustle of expensive flight tickets or the hellish rush to return home. It kills two birds with one stone: they make their dutiful family trip, and they don’t have to pay for accommodations when they get there.

Actually, I — Yuuki Morimura — was one of those people. The reason I say ‘was’ is because I had just returned to my dear home-town after a two year absence on one such obligatory trip. I’m 23 years old and a music instructor at a public high school, as well as a violinist and concertmaster of the Fujimi Citizen’s Philharmonic, also known as the ‘Ni-chome Philharmonic’ or just ‘Fujimi.’ I seem to be considered a quiet and serious person because of the glasses I’ve worn since junior high, and often mistaken as younger than my age thanks to my slim body and feminine face (that I’m not so pleased with); I actually think I’m a pretty assertive person. I moved to Tokyo for music school, and then Fujimi-cho, which has become my second home ever since.

Since my mother passed away, Fujimi feels even more like my second home. So as I returned from my three-day ‘homecoming’ trip and smelled the familiar scents of Fujimi, I breathed a deep sigh of relief. I arrived before Fujimi’s rehearsal day, just after nine o’clock in the evening. Many of the shops in Fujimi Ginza around the small train station were already closed, each shutter with a sign on the door that said they were closed for tomorrow’s Obon holiday; well, as far as the rest of the country is concerned, tomorrow is the real Obon holiday. I took advantage of the fact that I work at a school with summer vacation to beat the rush of people returning home. This was always my trick that I used in the summer when I would go back home to the country. I would take care of my obligations before the proper Bon Festival and spend the three days when Fujimi-cho was quiet, playing the violin in my empty apartment building. It was the only thing I enjoyed in the summer, as I don’t have any other hobbies.

Now the steel frame of the building was exposed to the sky, and underneath my feet was rubble that seemed to be made from the collapsed walls, along with black trash that must have been furniture. I had entered the alley and turned the corner as usual, and saw the scene that was now in front of me; it was a total loss fire. Both my building and the one on the other side of mine were at least 80% burnt down. I scratched my head and turned to the right. The liquor store on the corner was still open.

“Excuse me, good evening!” A lady came out while using a fan. She looked me up and down and made a sympathetic face. “Ah, the Miyajima apartment building over there burned down yesterday evening, I heard about it on the NHK news,” she said.

“I didn’t hear anything about it, I was back at my parents’ house.”

“Oh, you lived there?” The woman scratched her cauliflower-like permed head with the handle of her fan, probably because she was uncomfortable dealing with a person she didn’t know. “That’s terrible. The fire spread quickly and the firefighters didn’t show up for a while because it was right in the middle of rush hour, you know.”

“Um, did anybody...die?”

“It was a blessing that you weren’t there, the people who were left were burnt to a crisp. They were all dead by the time the firemen got there.”

“I see…”

“I heard it started from tempura oil. Yamamoto-san on the first floor was the origin of the fire. His wife always looked very careless.”

“Ah...Thank you,” the lady seemed like she wanted to keep talking, but I hadn’t recovered enough from the first round of information to keep up with more rumors. I bowed my head and left the store. The only question for now was where I could sleep tonight… I wondered if there were any hotels in this town. I remembered seeing a few love hotels, but as I walked towards the station I realized I needed to find something else: money. I didn’t have any.

I put down my travel bag and violin under the streetlight and checked my wallet. No matter how many times I counted it, there was only 3,000 yen. Naturally I didn’t have much left, since I had given most of my money to my sister when I left my parents’ house. It was only fair since I stayed for three days at the place she was living with four children and a husband on the salary of a civil servant, while also maintaining a large country house and fields. I wanted to be considerate, and also make a small gesture since I was now a salaried employee, so I left her with enough money for a meal. But now…

“The bank won’t be closed even on Bon holidays,” I said to myself. No — tomorrow is Saturday! No, wait, I can still withdraw money, my card is in my wallet. So in the morning I can get money. I picked up my bag and case, which was now all I had to my name, and started walking. Oh yeah, my scores, my CD player, the CDs themselves, my clothes, my wardrobe, my futon, my toaster… all burned. Everything, everything…! I was hit with the sound of an oncoming car and rushed to get out of the way. As I looked at the red glow of the receding tail lights, I thought of the word ‘penniless.’ I have a violin, an ATM card, and a few clothes for the time being, so I’m not completely broke, but I’d be grateful if I could at least talk to Ishida-san, the caretaker of Fujimi, who I know I could rely on. But he’s on his usual week-long summer vacation. His whole family left for Hokkaido in the country on the same day that I left, and of course his coffee shop Mozart is also closed.

There were only two other members of the orchestra who knew where I lived: Natsuko Kawashima, a flutist, and the conductor, Tounoin. I had been in love with Kawashima for three years, even proposed to her, but we finally settled as friends in the orchestra. And Tounoin… well, I thought about going to him. He would be more than willing to let me stay, but that ‘willingness’ was the problem. He was gay, fell in love with me, and raped me — though the rape was an accident, as Tounoin had thought I was also gay and that I wanted to have sex with him. I respect Tounoin as a genius conductor, and I also think he’s a very good man, as he was willing to give up his affections towards me and not bring that kind of trouble into our relationship as musicians.

That’s why… I don’t think I should go to his place to stay. No matter how much help he offers or how strong his willpower is, I don’t want to give him the opportunity to spoil me. He’s a human being too, and you never know when his self-control might slip… I don’t want to ruin the friendship we’ve established. I couldn’t impose on him like that, but I also couldn’t think of anywhere else that would let me stay. The list of Fujimi members and school staff had burned to ash in the fire, and there were a lot of people that I couldn’t remember their full names to look them up in the phone book.

I was flipping through the pages of the city phone book, trying to find a hotel, when I heard the sound of rain. It started raining. Then it was pouring. It seems like bad luck was following me like a bad smell. I took out ten yen from my wallet and picked up the phone.

“Hello, do you have any rooms available? Yes, for tonight. Oh, that’s great. Where are you located?” I thanked them, hung up the phone and wondered out loud, “Yeah, that’s pretty far. The cab fare alone would wipe out all my money. I wonder if they would let me stay without a deposit?”

I heard a noise and looked outside. A soaking wet businessman was waiting, so I opened the phone booth and said, “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting,” and dashed under the eaves of a building to avoid getting wet. I hurriedly wiped the drops of water from my violin case. I decided to wait for the rain to let up and then walk to the hotel; since I only had 3,000 yen I really couldn’t spend it on the cab. But the evening downpour, which I assumed would stop if I waited it out, did not let up even after an hour. I waved my hand at the approaching lights of an empty cab and repeatedly counted the contents of my wallet in my head.

---

After going through 5 other hotels, the sixth hotel receptionist — my last ray of hope in the whole town — was a gentle, motherly woman with a pleasant appearance and tone of voice… “Oh, that’s the thing, isn’t it?”

I said quickly, “I have an ATM card, so if the bank is open tomorrow morning, I promise I can get the money! I know you have a rule that you have to pay in advance, but I won’t cause any trouble!” Needless to say, I’m not very good at this kind of negotiation. But there was nothing else I could do. I was so embarrassed that my forehead broke out in a cold sweat, but I persisted desperately. “I’m begging you. I can’t stay out in the open in this rain!” The woman, who seemed to be going through hardship of her own, looked down with a troubled expression. ‘One more push,’ I thought.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but if there’s any way…”

“Well, let me have your driver’s license.”

“Oh, that’s —“ I was sure that I had finally found a solution. “I don’t have it.”

“You don’t have a driver’s license?” It was heart-wrenching to see her face, which had finally softened somewhat, switch back into cold rejection.

“...my insurance card was burned. But..!” I pulled my ATM card out of my drenched back pocket. “I’ll leave this with you!”

The woman shook her head apologetically. “That doesn’t prove your identity, does it?”

“But if you look up my card number…”

“Can you prove it’s yours?” I was about to open my mouth to argue against her rude suspicion when the sound of rain started up again.

The easy-going face of welcome had turned into a cruel mask when she looked back at me. She said quietly, “Anyway, we don’t accept single guests.” Basically, I was interfering with their business, so get out of here.

“Ah, I see. Thank you.” Apparently this is the way the city is. I thought I could handle the love-hotel atmosphere, but I was naive. I gave the guests that had entered behind me some space so I wouldn’t have to look at them, but it seemed to be an unnecessary precaution.

“Oh, let’s take this room!” I heard the excited girl’s voice behind me as I walked out, not feeling the least bit guilty about being in a love hotel. This was the last of my hotel choices, and I had run out of ideas. I wondered if the heavens had come to regret their cruelty to me, as it was raining lightly when I went outside. But the situation wasn’t any better just because the rain was lighter.

“Police, maybe?” I had heard of something called ‘tiger boxes’ that were used to protect drunks, but I wondered if they would have anything for a lodger like me. ‘It’s all so bad!’ I thought, but that was the only option I could think of at this point. However, the police station was behind the Fujimi train station, which took me 20 minutes to get there by car, and now I had to walk back... “I’ve got 820 yen in my pocket, so I have no other choice.”

The problem was the violin, which could not get wet. I decided to put it in my travel bag, and used my summer jacket as a furoshiki for my overflowing clothes. I walked out into the rain, which was cold on my already soaking body. There was nothing else I could do.

—

“Achoo!” I sneezed, waking up. I was greeted by masculine-smelling air and unnecessary air conditioning. It seemed that I had caught a cold. I put my glasses on and looked at the round clock on the wall; it was barely 7am… I had stumbled into this police station a little after two in the morning, managed to get them to understand my situation, and they let me stay in the dormitory nap room.

“Achoo!” I guess it’s time for me to leave. After all, the air conditioning was too cold in here. I folded the blanket I had borrowed and left the dormitory room. I looked around for the middle-aged policeman that had helped me earlier, but maybe his shift had ended. I turned around and saw a policeman who looked younger than me.

“Oh, you must be Morimura-san.”

“Yes, I was staying here. Thanks to you, I was saved. This is for the person who helped me last night,” I offered him a box of sweets that my sister had given me to take home, “It’s a little wet from the rain, but inside is manju.”

“Oh no, that’s too much.”

“No, I’m really grateful.” As I was saying this, my nose started to itch again. I sneezed and bowed.

The city was already hot and humid, so I was grateful for the chills that were creeping into my body. I bought the cheapest lunch at a convenience store in the middle of the street and headed for the bank. It was 7:24am on August 13th, and in 30 minutes I would be able to say goodbye to the miserable feeling of having just 500 yen in my pocket. But I didn’t know… I didn’t know that today is the day the door of hell would be flung open.

It’s hot… the cicadas are so noisy. And… there was no money. The lack of money I thought I had was extremely shocking, there must have been some mistake. I’m sure it was just some small clerical error, like a paycheck failing to transfer. I did buy a new suit for the school year and paid for it in one lump sum with my bonus, but that should have gone through in July… but the ‘balance of 2,637 yen’ on the statement the cashier spit out was an unquestionable fact from the employee that was working that Saturday. He told me to come back on Monday for more details. The bank book, which was supposed to be a clue to solve my money question, had been reduced to ashes along with my personal seal and ID card. And the only thing that could guarantee that I am Yuuki Morimura was an ATM card, which could be stolen or picked up…

If it had been the bank where Kawashima-san worked, she probably would have taken care of it. Fujimi’s most beautiful flutist, Natsuko Kawashima, who had rejected my desperate proposal, was the type of person who would be strong in an emergency situation like this. But she’s not here, and anyway as a man I couldn’t just go to my girlfriend’s workplace and cry to her. For an hour I was at a loss for what to do, wondering what the hell I did to deserve this, envying the heavens and cursing my fate. Maybe I was stupid to have left with only my violin and a few changes of clothes. But! I had taken proper precautions against fire, and I was only gone for three days. Usually you don’t have to think about the possibility of your apartment burning down in such a short amount of time.

The sun was shining on the benches, and shadows stretched out over the ground. I was craving grilled fish… but what was I supposed to do now, when it’s two more days until Ishida-san comes back? I was able to withdraw 2,000 yen from my credit card, but with a grand total of 2,511 yen it was barely anything. I pulled out the notepad I kept in my pocket. I knew I had only Mozart, Kawashima-san’s house, and the number of the school staff room written down. The school was closed for the Bon holiday and there was no answer on the phone. Kawashima-san was the only one who could help me. But… I said to myself, ‘Is it really worth it to go through all this?’ Of course, I wanted to just wait it out, but if I had to… if I did, I’d have to stay out in the open for two more nights. The policeman last night was kind enough to help me, but the way he acted made it clear that the police were not a hotel, and I was already feeling sick from my search for shelter in the rain. My pride as a man wouldn’t let me rely on Tounoin.

As I soothed my dry throat with lukewarm water from the park fountain, I made up my mind. By the time I found a phone booth, I had sweated out more than I had drunk. I wondered if Kawashima-san would be at work or if she was off? In this case, I could barely spare even ten yen. In a desperate mood, I figured that she would have gone to work, so I looked up the number of her workplace in the Town Pages, which I was grateful to have even if it was in tatters.

The reply on the other end of the line was, “Kawashima-san is off today.”

I took my wallet out again… oh, ten-yen coins, you are valuable after all. I dialed her home number, and the voice that answered was that of a mother.

“I’m Morimura of the Fujimi Philharmonic. Is Natsuko-san at home?”

“Ah, the concertmaster. Thank you for always taking care of my daughter,” said the warm voice. I felt the dark clouds in my chest clear. Thank God.

“Oh, of course. So, where is Natsuko-san?”

“This morning she went scuba diving in Izu with a friend. She’ll be back the night of the 15th.”

I couldn’t remember if I had said a proper greeting when I hung up the phone… as I exited the phone booth I felt that my last hope was gone. I’m finally going to have to live on the street. But… but… what the hell am I supposed to do? I asked myself over and over, and reluctantly arrived at the answer I already knew, the only solution. I have no choice but to go to Tounoin. Go to him… I’ll just borrow some money. As long as I have money I can do whatever I need to do; get a hotel room, ask the principal for a new ID when school resumes after Bon, go to city hall to get a certificate of seal impression, and then take it back to the bank. It’s just a debt, I will owe him a favor, but I can pay him back as much as I borrow.

I walked, keeping my face down from the sun that was beating down on me. I was sweating profusely, yet an inexplicable chill ran down my spine. I put my hand to my forehead, which wasn’t even hot, but I felt like I was having a heat stroke. I need to borrow money to buy some cold medicine...a hotel… a cool room… I should have called Kawashima-san last night instead of trying to be proud and stick it out on my own. But it was so late at night… and either way it was too late now.

—

The Telephone Pole Mansion was silent and open as usual. On the wall opposite of the door to apartment 11 there was a row of mailboxes with numbers from 11-71 on them, and on box 71 was a handwritten name: “Kei Tounoin.” There was an elevator door next to it, and in front of the door an abandoned tricycle with the name ‘Mamiko’ written on it in permanent marker. I pushed the trike aside and pressed the button. I got off at the fifth floor — which was the end of the line — and climbed the remaining two floors, breathing hard. They say only idiots catch colds in the summer, but I felt myself getting more and more sick. But I had to act cool in front of Tounoin. He’ll probably tell me to use his place instead of a hotel, but I don’t want to accept a favor I can’t return. I had rejected him. Actually, he really wasn’t the kind of guy I could borrow money from, either… I finally managed to get to the apartment, and was anticipating getting to change clothes since the ones I had been wearing were soggy from being worn since yesterday. I put my hands in my pockets — I just remembered, I don’t have the key…

I usually have the key to his place. It was the middle of last month when Tounoin offered me his apartment, since mine didn’t allow the practicing of musical instruments and I had no other decent place to practice. At the time, we were still like a rabbit and a wolf, and I was the rabbit running away. I resisted and resisted, not wanting to be lured into the wolf’s house by some kind of trick. But then we developed a proper relationship as friends, and I decided to accept that his offer was out of kindness, not a trick. Since then, I’ve practiced here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday night, and Sunday afternoon. I have a duplicate key because Tounoin’s apartment is soundproofed, and he plays music so loud that he doesn’t hear if somebody knocks. He gave me the key so I could come in on my own, but I had left the key in my apartment. On the morning I left, I put it in a bag of rice in the kitchen, along with my personal seal, bank book and other valuables…

He had no doorbell. I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. I knocked a few more times, then thought to put my ear to the door, but it seemed to be silent behind it. Just to be sure, I looked for a window, but there was not a single window on this side. I went to the edge of the aisle and looked, but no, there was no window on that side either. There was a window across from the door inside… but regardless there was no sign of anybody being in the apartment.

“He’s finally away…” did he go to his parents’ house, or on vacation, or just out shopping? No matter what Tounoin was doing, my situation was simple: I had no other place to go, no other option. As long as I had the key, I could go in; Tounoin wouldn’t mind if I came in when he wasn’t home. It would be much easier to wait in an air-conditioned room, and I would without hesitation, but without a key… it’s metal, so there is a possibility that it didn’t burn up in the fire. But to find it, I would have to go back down the stairs and walk for twenty minutes in the hot sun. Then I’d have to dig around in that pile of rubble, and what were the chances of finding it? Even if I did find it, it might be useless, and either way I’d have to come back here… by then, Tounoin might have returned. So I decided to just wait. Fortunately there was a roof over the passage, and the elevated location allowed for good ventilation. I sat down in the aisle with my violin case beside me on the concrete, which was cool and pleasant in the shade. Looking through the bars of the railing, the city was the color of scorched gold in the midsummer sun. I’ll wait here until it cools down in the evening, and if he doesn’t come back I’ll go look for the key…. but what if the key doesn’t work? Whether it’s there or not, I’ll have to come back, but what if Tounoin doesn’t come back tonight?

Then I’ll just spend the night here outside. No one but Tounoin comes up here anyway, and it’s summer so it shouldn’t be a problem to sleep overnight… but what if he’s on vacation? I haven’t heard anything about that. He’s probably shopping or something, he’ll be back in the evening. As I stared blankly at the scenery thinking about this, I began to feel sleepy. To tell the truth, I didn’t want to move anymore. The sooner I went to look for the key the better, and the sooner I could take some medicine the better. I didn’t have much of an appetite, but I was thirsty and I knew I could get a cold drink at the convenience store downstairs. But once I was sitting like this, I didn’t feel like getting up again. I felt like I didn’t actually sleep much at the police dormitory, and yesterday was still yesterday…

I had helped Mimiko with her farm work in the morning, took my nephews to the town swimming pool, and taken a six-hour express train ride home, and then when I was feeling relieved to be home, the apartment was gone. And all that time I wasted looking for a hotel… after all that, it’s not surprising that I didn’t get a good night’s sleep. In other words, I was utterly exhausted. And to top it off, I was coming down with a cold. I laid down with my bag as a pillow, just to give my body a rest. After a short nap I would take a fever reducer… and then go find the key… I laid down, staring at the concrete ceiling of the aisle and the blue sky beyond, thinking about the pile of scores I had that were now burned. I hadn’t finished learning more than half of them, maybe I should have brought at least those with me… I couldn’t help thinking about it now.

...I opened my eyes with a start and realized I had fallen asleep. My body ached all over, probably from lying on a concrete bed. But I didn’t feel like waking up, I was feeling very sluggish, as if I were being held in a metal box. I wanted to look at the time, but I couldn’t lift my arm to put on my watch. ‘Never mind,’ I thought, ‘This is the top floor, and the only room up here is Tounoin’s, so I can afford to take my time. I’m sure he’ll have something to say when he gets back, and there’s no need to move when it’s still so hot…’ With this thought, I was sucked back into the darkness of sleep. But it was a sleep that I shouldn’t have fallen into, like what people experience when they’re in distress on snowy mountains.

I was burning hot when I woke up again. I forced open my heavy eyelids. Through the bars of the railing, at the same height as I was lying, the orange sun was blazing, and I was basking in the west sun. I tried to get up, but my body felt like a bag of wet sand. If I stayed here, I would dry out in the sun. I managed to crawl up on all fours and move to the little remaining shade by the top of the stairs. As I let my head fall limp, I thought of something. The violin! I shouldn’t have left it in the sun like that… I crawled back to the apartment door, grabbed the violin case, and went back to the shade. The coldness of the concrete made me feel uncomfortable, like a myriad of worms were slithering under my skin. Chills kept running down my spine incessantly. I was already starting to doze off, thinking of how awful this was. The sound of cicadas chirping somewhere in the distance was becoming more and more faint. Water… water… when it gets cooler, I’ll have to go to the convenience store… barley tea, juice...water...water…. I found myself depressed. When I came to, it was pitch black. I felt cold, and when I moved my entire body was filled with aches and pains. My head also felt like it was going to crack open, and the breath on my lips was hot. I felt like I couldn’t get up, but I managed to do so because I knew I was in danger of dying out here. Going down the stairs, however, was even more dangerous. My legs were unreliable, and my hands were shaking as I clung to the railing with what little strength I had. Still, I somehow managed to reach the elevator and descended to the ground floor.

I staggered the 30 meters or so to the corner store and went in. The brightness of the white lights hurt my eyes.

“Excuse me,” I said, leaning against the register, “Do you have any fever reducers?”

“No, we don’t,” the cashier replied, “But there’s a pharmacy a little bit down the street.” He seemed kind.

“How far is ‘just a little bit…’” It was too far for me now. “Could I have a bottle of Pocari?” The clerk asked me which one. “No, a large one.”

“Two bottles are six hundred and eighteen yen.”

With trembling fingers I took the change and the heavy package and left the store. I didn’t have time to go looking for the keys. I literally crawled back to Tounoin’s front door on the seventh floor, relieved to see that the violin I had left behind was still there, and then I completely ran out of steam. I would fall asleep intermittently, waking up with chattering teeth, and then fall asleep again only to wake up drenched in sweat… each sleep and awakening had a similar sense of torment and nightmares, and time passed slowly. Every time I woke up, I would first check to make sure my violin was safe, then take a sip or two of Pocari, touch the violin case again and fall back into another painful sleep.

I felt like my beloved instrument, which was ‘only two million yen’ in the eyes of musicians, was still very precious to me even at this moment when I felt on the brink of death. When I was a student, quite a few of my friends had instruments worth 2 million, and some played on ones worth 3 or 5 million. I wondered how they managed to squeeze that out of their parents. The violin is a small but expensive instrument, with the best ones like Stradivarius costing hundreds of millions of yen. Because of their nature, being made with wood, the sound gets better with age, so the 300,000 or 400,000 yen new violins lined up in the window of a music store are only considered entry-level instruments. When I was a student, I used a brand new violin that cost 700,000 yen. My mother spent all of her savings to buy me the best one she could find in the country, and that was how much it cost to get the violin and the bow as a set. The sound is somewhat proportional to the price, so no matter how hard I tried my instrument could not match that of a 3 million yen instrument. That’s why when I got out of college and started a temporary job, the first thing I did was buy this violin. I had already given up being a professional, but I really wanted an instrument that had a better sound; it was the culmination of around four years of frustration. I sold my 700,000 yen set for 600,000 yen, keeping the bow, and then added 1.4 million yen of my own from a personal loan to purchase my current instrument. I was really happy at the time, and now with only one more payment, my beloved instrument will be mine in both name and reality. Then, I will buy a suitable bow for it… probably something around 500,000 yen… with a loan again, but I will do it to get a new bow. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to afford it. And then I wished I could play the violin just one more time before I died, if this was to be my last moments…. when I think about it, I was being as sentimental as something you’d see in a shoujo manga, and later I blush when I recall being like that. I’m proud of myself for being a violinist, and under normal circumstances I wouldn’t have ever thought of pawning my violin for money. But I’m a fool, and in some way it’s more manly to be foolish.

That was what I was thinking about when I absentmindedly changed thoughts to the man who seemed to not be coming back, no matter how long I waited. I thought I heard footsteps, but figured it was just another hallucination. But the sound was getting closer… a white object appeared on the stairs, quickly turning into a Panama hat with black eyes under the brim. As I was lying on my concrete bed, all I could see was what came into my field of vision from the other side — a man with only a head, then a neck… his eyebrows were tight, the eyes underneath long and narrow, with a well-defined nose that even from the front you could tell was high.

“No way,” the lips murmured. Then the shoulders appeared under the man’s neck, and a hand came up and lifted the Panama hat, which he fanned his face with. The man’s dark hair was long and full, tucked in tightly from the hat; it didn’t look rude or obnoxious because the style suited him. “Morimura… san? What are you doing here…?” With a clatter of footsteps the whole body appeared, a solid 190cm tall body in an elegant linen suit. He was holding a trunk that had customs stickers in one hand. Had he been traveling abroad…?

“Hey,” I smiled, or at least I thought I did. It was Kei Tounoin, the 22 year old unknown genius conductor who had dropped out of the Music Department of the National Fine Arts University — which he was accepted straight into — because he had ‘nothing more to learn’ after one year, and then he studied abroad in Germany and Austria. His present status was as the permanent conductor of the 2-Chome Phil, or Fujimi Orchestra, an amateur ensemble of people who love music. “I’ve been… waiting for a while…” I said in a raspy, shrill voice. Before I realized it was me speaking, I was folded into the chest of the suit that had quickly appeared.

“Morimura-san! What’s going on? What the hell are you doing in a place like this?!”

I was going to answer, but I lost consciousness…

When I woke up, I was in the water. At first I just felt vaguely cool and comfortable, when I heard a chuckle in my ear. My face was wiped with a cold towel dripping with water, and I opened my eyes.

“Oh, you noticed,” The one who said this in a very relieved voice was Tounoin, who was looking right into my face from above. I tried to sit up, as I was using his arm as a pillow, but I heard a bang and realized I was lying in a Western-style bathtub filled with water. Completely naked.

“Wha-ah…” I jumped in shock.

Tounoin said in a serious voice, “I had to hurry to lower your temperature, it was over 40ºC.” I was relieved to hear that, but then my eyelids began to feel heavy… “Wait! Just one sip before you go to sleep,” he said with a panicked voice, and his arm snatched me up in a hug while he placed something hard and cold to my lips. A cup…? “You’re dehydrated, just drink as much as you can,” he said. Adam woke up and took a bite of the apple, but when I covered my crotch with my hand I felt even more embarrassed. “Sorry,” he said and shoved a thin object into my mouth. “It’s a thermometer,” he told me.

When he saw the temperature dropped to 37º he let me lean back into the water. I noticed that the sleeves and chest of his expensive linen suit were soaked from where I was leaning against him. “I’m sorry… I feel lost… put it on…” when I mumbled with the thermometer in my mouth, Tounoin smiled.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” I was scared because I was afraid he was going to kiss me. But he only leaned in to read the thermometer. The door behind him slammed open, and he murmured, “It’s about time he got here.”

“How is it? Has it gone down a bit?”

“Seven degrees in one minute. I’ll move him to the room. Oh, can you get a bath towel for me from the cabinet over there? Two or three for the bed.”

“I should have brought a nurse,” said the man, opening the cupboard as he thrust his stethoscope into his pocket. Tounoin tried to pick me up, but I said I could walk myself. Both of them got irritated at me, thinking that I was just embarrassed. But the problem was the bed that I was brought to… two months ago, I was raped in this bed… but I couldn’t very well say that to Tonouin, who had taken care of me like a mother, nor to the doctor. After all, I don’t have a place to go home to, and I can’t look for an apartment until I get better.

“I’ll give you some glucose. You can still give him water. Basically the only medicine he needs is water and rest. Let him have some porridge when he has the energy to eat. I’ll come back tomorrow to see how it goes,” said the doctor, who left quickly after finishing his diagnosis.

I had enough energy to talk, “Are you related to that doctor?”

“He’s my uncle,” was the reply. I tried to tell him that there were pajamas in my bag, but he ignored me.

Instead, he pushed the dial button on the phone he pulled out from under the bed, but I couldn’t quite hear what he was saying. “Hello, this is Kei. No, from Fujimi… please tell him it will be a little while before I can come back. No, I have a guest.” As I listened I felt his voice soften, and it occurred to me that he had a family, too. I hadn’t thought about it before…

When I woke up after a good night’s sleep I felt much better. I put on my underwear and pajamas, went to the bathroom on my own, which also made me feel better. My precious violin had been placed on the shelf above the audio components. When I told Tounoin about my unfortunate situation, he expressed his deepest sympathy and said I could stay in his place for the time being.

“I can’t annoy you any more than I already have,” I said. He had taken care of me and slept on the floor so I could use his bed.

“I see…” he said, his tone of voice sounding slightly angry. “I don’t think it’s annoying.”

“Well, I think it will still be two or three more days until I can get everything sorted out. So I’m sorry for that.”

“Yeah. But there’s no rush, you can stay here until you have the energy to play the violin. Conductor’s orders.” I laughed, and Tounoin laughed too. He’s a handsome man, but with his usual expressionless face he looks dour and misanthropic. However when he smiles, he looks very youthful and friendly.

—-

It was the third day I had occupied Tounoin’s bed. I had been thinking that tomorrow I could go out and look for an apartment, but I fell asleep… I woke up in the middle of the night because of a faint sound of music, just a murmur. 'That is… that’s Tannhäuser,' I thought, the song that filled up this room when it was at full volume on the night two months ago, when Tounoin forcibly embraced me! ‘Oh my god!’ I thought, and felt like jumping to my feet. But my body stayed still like it was bound up by rope. No, I was holding my breath like a rabbit who had heard the snort of a wolf, who was stalking him. I stifled a gasp, then fearfully opened my eyes.

The room was dark, illuminated only by moonlight streaming in through the window, where the blinds were lowered… Tounoin was in his usual place, looking like his usual self on the other side of the room: facing the console cross-legged with his back to the bed. The sound of Tannhäuser was leaking from his headphones. The broad shoulders of his back made me wince, and inwardly I took an escape stance. Tounoin raised his arms and folded his hands behind his neck, then slowly curled his body forward. He stayed like that for quite some time. I could only see his curled back as I secretly watched him, fighting the memories that came back to me no matter how hard I tried to push them away. I don’t want to remember, but why is it that inconvenient memories are so vivid? I was attacked and raped while this song was blaring at maximum volume… the feeling of his thing going into me, the pain of it tearing my ass and the sensation of my internal organs being pushed out of my mouth when he was penetrating me. The uncountable minutes of humiliation, feeling crazy, embarrassed, terrible… I felt unbearably miserable, I really want to be able to erase this from my memory! Of course I didn’t want to do it… but I had gasped and moaned, and he was saying, “I love you”... no way! I wish I was lying, but the facts are what they are.

I don’t know why he’s listening to that song, but before I knew it the sound stopped, and the silence made me choke up even more. The sound of my heartbeat throbbed in my ears as I pressed my head into the pillow, and I was worried Tounoin would hear it. I swallowed hard… how long was the silence going to last? Tounoin, motionless as a stone, murmured faintly, “Yuuki… Yuuki…” in a piercing whisper. Then he took off the headphones and stood up. I shut my eyes quickly. I felt a presence approach the side of the bed, and the raggedness of his breathing was stifling. I tried my best to pretend to be asleep. Tounoin seemed to be staring down at me. “If… if he’s willing…” he said quietly.

I decided what I would do and how I would do it, but I was confused. If he comes at me like he did that other time, I’m going to punch him in the face and run away, but… can I do it? ‘I will!’ I shouted at myself. Tounoin is a good man, and he saved my life, but that’s one thing and this is another! It has to be different! Tounoin was still standing there. The tension in my throat was so great that I felt my face begin to flush, thanks to the struggle to stifle screaming and the feeling of wanting to leap out of bed.

I thought I had reached my limit when I heard his baritone voice say, “I’m sorry…” and he softly ruffled my hair. I opened my eyes when I heard the footsteps move away from me and the sound of blankets being spread out. Tounoin was lying with his back to me on a blanket on the wooden floor, instead of his bed that he had given up for me. He knew. He knew that I was awake, that I was curious about him. He knew I was afraid that he might do something, even though Tounoin had sworn never to force me and was keeping his vow. I wanted to tell him I was sorry, but I was scared to do that because it would give him hope… if I made him want to try again, when he was trying to give up like a man…. well, honestly I was afraid of Tounoin. Our friendship was built on the thin ice of his self-control, and if I take one careless step and it cracks, I will be swallowed by the flames of his passion that are still burning underneath. I knew that for sure from that afternoon in July.

I also knew that I couldn’t allow myself to succumb to pleasure in the arms of a man; I couldn’t forgive myself after my body confessed itself unintentionally. He had hugged me with arms that were free of lust and apologized. I had said ‘I understand, but I’m not going to be in a romantic relationship with a man no matter how much he loves me.’ He accepted it when I said those words, and then we settled down into the normal friendship I had hoped for… but the way Tounoin was fighting with himself now, the bitter battle between his true feelings and the pretense he showed me tonight, that was the truth. He only put on the ‘just a friend’ act for me, a false image that twisted his true feelings. I knew I had to snap out of it with an ‘I’m sorry,’ which I was able to say by pushing down my emotions through reason, but it was much more painful than I had expected. He said that we would go find an apartment tomorrow, and that was the scream of his suppressed emotions. I knew I shouldn’t have stayed here… I like Tounoin as a person, but I can’t accept him the way he wants me to. I’m like a fish laying in front of a cat, ready to be eaten. I can’t let him do this to himself anymore.

The next day we took a cab to the real estate office. I said we could walk, but Tounoin was adamant, so we drove. We actually went to four real estate agencies, but couldn’t find anything that I liked so decided to try again another day. While we were out I also went to the school I worked at, which was two stops away by train. The vice principal was there, and he expressed his deepest sympathies for my situation and gave me a new ID card after I had requested him to reissue it over the phone. I immediately went to the city hall, got my seal registration card and went to the bank. Tounoin asked the branch manager to check my bank account in a calm and unobtrusive tone, and got the answer that I should wait for a few days. The bank book with a balance of 637 yen was quickly reissued with a single three-sentence stamp, since he showed his passport and acted as my guarantor. It seemed my body was still not up to full condition since I fell asleep in the cab on the way home, which worried Tounoin a little.

As soon as we got back Tounoin pushed me to go to bed, and then Ishida-san came to visit suddenly. It seems that Fujimi’s caretaker was very worried about me, since I had been missing since the fire. He said, “Well, I got a call from my landlord as soon as I came back from my vacation. He asked me if I knew where you had gone, so I called your family but they replied that you left them on the 12th. I didn’t say anything about the fire, I just told your sister that I had urgent business for Fujimi. Since the police assured us that nobody died in the fire, I didn’t want to worry her unnecessarily.”

Come to think of it, Ishida-san was my guarantor for my apartment contract. “Thank you for everything,” I bowed my head from the bed. “I was going to call my sister after I found a new apartment,” I added, “But Tounoin didn’t think I should mention the mishap with the fire. It’s not really a nice thing to talk about, after all.” Ishida-san nodded in agreement.

“It’s a good thing you have shelter right now. How is your cold?”

“I'm getting better. I’ve been troubling Tounoin-san a lot.”

“So, are you going to find an apartment?"

“It’s hard to find a cheap place where you can also practice violin.”

Ishida laughed, “I hope the landlord decides to rebuild, but he is getting old. I did hear that he will be compensated for the spread of the fire."

“That’s right, even though the landlord didn’t start the fire.”

“Well, that’s about it. So…” Ishida-san rummaged through the bag he brought with him. “There’s not much in there, but be careful when you open it,” he said, placing an envelope next to my lap.

“Oh no, no, you shouldn’t have.”

“It’s not much, just a gift. This is the kind of situation for it, after all. And you don’t need to give anything back in return; we’ve known each other for a long time, even if it doesn’t feel like it.” He smiled at me and sat up. “Are you going to stay here until you find an apartment?”

I was about to reply ‘no,’ but Tounoin said “Yes.”

“That’s good. I’ll see you later, then. Is rehearsal still off for tomorrow?”

“No, I’ll go.”

“Oh, yes. Well, we can’t have rehearsal without Morimura-chan, and Tounoin-kun isn’t going to attend either. You don’t have to force yourself.”

After Nico-chan left, looking busy, Tounoin and I had a disagreement about where I would stay until I found an apartment.

Tounoin said, “I’ll be staying at my parents’ place from tonight, so you can take your time finding an apartment.”

“That’s…! No, I’ll go to a hotel.”

“That would be a waste of money,” I choked up… it’s true that if the bank doesn’t figure out my situation, I’m penniless.

“But I can’t just kick you out of your own place…”

“It’s okay, I should be dutiful to my sponsors sometimes, after all.”

“Where’s your hometown?”

“Seijo.”

Wow, a high-class residential area! “But then, won’t it take you nearly two hours to get here?”

“Well, yes.”

“I can’t bother you like that.”

“I told you, it’s not a bother.”

“But it’s definitely inconvenient.”

“It’s about time I slept on a decent futon anyway.”

“Well, let’s switch. I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”

“You’re a sick man.”

“I’m better now!”

“Then why don’t you go for a run around the town?”

We were dancing around the subject, he knew it and I knew it. Tounoin wants to get out before his emotions get the better of him. I can’t make the man who saved my life leave his own apartment. But to hold him back would be to continue tormenting him… 'Oh, righteousness or humanity!' I thought, and then I realized that it wasn’t out of duty or courtesy that I wanted to keep him around, is it? It’s just my stubbornness, and that I don’t want to admit that I’m actually afraid of him….

“Okay,” I said. “I feel really bad for you, but if it makes you feel better…”

Tounoin laughed with a huff, “I’m telling you that I don’t think you can sleep well with me around, so I’m removing myself.”

I was pissed off that he pointed out the truth so bluntly, “I trust you, don’t I?”

“Do you?”

Now I was really annoyed, “So why don’t you sleep with me tonight?” I thought I’d lost it as soon as the words came out of my mouth, but I couldn’t unsay it. “If you don’t want to sleep on the floor, then sleep next to me. I don’t mind,” I told him, confident he would refuse.

“Oh, that’s a good idea,” he said with a sly smile.

“Then let’s go with that.” He smiled at me as I looked up at him, feeling like I had dug my own grave.

“I’m a better sleeper than Morimura-san.”

—

… Tounoin’s daily routine is that of somebody who is young and doesn’t have a regular job (I think, I never asked him about it), but is very precise. He wakes up at seven in the morning and has bread and coffee for breakfast. Then, he runs the washing machine and cleans the room with a rented mop. When he's done, he takes out a book or two from the cabinet full of scores, spreads them on his knees and studies them. He wasn’t playing recordings this time, but apparently just reading the music in his head; I had heard that only geniuses of Seiji Ozawa’s level could do that sort of thing without the assistance of an instrument. Usually you play piano or something at least. Conductors use the score, a book of music that contains all the parts of the orchestra (brass, woodwinds, strings, percussion), and each page has all the staves needed for the instrumental parts. The conductor’s job is to understand the flow of each part and how it interacts with the harmony in the complex combination as a whole. To be blunt, it was a task that my mind could never handle, but Tounoin apparently can construct it completely in his head. I knew he was a true genius. But of course, he didn’t seem to be doing it effortlessly either. He was doing it in his usual manner, with the score on his knees, but the level of tension and concentration was completely different from when he was reading with the recordings. He doesn’t talk to anyone, but I feel like I need to refrain from even breathing…

He does this from around eight o’clock, sometimes until the afternoon, without taking a break, and then would take a nap. After sleeping like a dead man for an hour, he would put on recordings in addition to reading the scores. Then he had dinner delivered from a restaurant (today while waiting for the food, he remembered the laundry and went to put it in the dryer), and after he finishes eating, goes back to playing recordings and score study. He finishes up around twelve o’clock, takes a nightly bath, and goes to bed. He doesn’t have any sort of nightcap or alcohol; he was a man who lived a life completely immersed in music.

I looked at the clock every five minutes, waiting for midnight to come. Well, maybe waiting wasn’t quite the right word, it was more like being in a state of trepidation. It was a little past midnight when Tounoin took off his headphones and turned the components off. He turned around to see if I was asleep (of course I pretended to be), turned off the light and walked past my side of the bed to the back door. Incidentally, this apartment is very well designed, except for the fact that the room isn’t square in shape. The first thing you see when you walk in is the audio equipment with five speakers that look like they cost a million yen. When you remove your shoes, you can see a large window at the other end of the room, and when you step inside the flooring is cork. The bed is at the far end of the room, and next to the double-sized bed there is a row of doors on the wall. The three closest to the entrance are cabinets full of musical scores. The fourth one leads to a cabin in the back, which houses a bathroom with a Western-style toilet, a storage area with laundry facilities, and a dining/kitchen area, all crammed into one functional space.

After finishing his nightly studies, Tounoin went into the captain’s room for his usual bath, but he didn’t come out for a long time, while I waited and waited pretending to be asleep. He usually doesn’t take long baths, but it was over thirty minutes at least. Tired of nervously waiting, I actually dozed off instead of pretending, waking up when I felt the bed sink. Tounoin had laid down in the empty spot by the wall. He fidgeted a bit behind me with his back to me, but he soon quieted down. Then came the sign of someone who was satisfied with the comfort of sleeping. I couldn’t help but listen attentively to the sound of Tounoin’s breathing less than a meter away. If it didn’t switch to the sound of deeper sleep, I wouldn’t be able to sleep peacefully myself… but it wasn’t long before I started to hear his breathing slow and fall into a regular pattern. For now I was relieved, and was ready to fall asleep too. But… my mind was still racing and I couldn’t quiet it. It wasn’t that I wasn’t tired, but I hadn’t been out of the apartment in days, and even if my body is tired my mind is so sharp that it refuses to sleep. And then the more impatient I am to sleep, the more I hear Tounoin’s sleeping breath, the smell of his shampoo, and other things poking at my consciousness that brought back memories from that night and afternoon. This man who suddenly revealed himself as a passionate person, who attacked me and stole me away, when I had only known him as an impudent and calm conductor… this man who plucked my pride and twisted my flesh into a type of affair I’d never known… this man with wide shoulders, a broad chest and strong arms, that held me captive and dominated me, stopping me from challenging him with his strength…

For a moment, I remembered the feeling of something thick and hot ramming into my ass. I twitched, and at the same time I realized that my penis was on the verge of rising. Why is my body in such a state of rebellion against my will? How was it that a single, forced experience made me a homosexual who wants a man? But… but… smelling Tounoin’s scent… his presence… is what causes this change in my body. He already understood, I convinced him that I can’t be his lover, and he has not laid a finger on me as promised. I...I...I… stiffened at the sound of a sigh behind me.

“What’s wrong? Can’t sleep?” The sleepy voice had a faint hint of a teasing smile. The bed creaked as he turned over, and then Tounoin fell asleep with a swoosh.

‘Damn it!’ I thought. I was supposed to be worried that he would break the chains of his reason! Yes, I was. He really wanted to have sex with me, but out of concern that he couldn’t keep his vows he was going to stay at his parents’ house. Because I hinted at that, his vain counterattack was this accusation that I didn’t trust him. The rest was just saying words for words’ sake, but… okay, I’ll buy it. I’ll buy it. I’m determined to see how much more of this you can take, until you give up! But if you lose it and come after me, I’ll laugh my ass off and ask what happened to your vows! Yeah, that’s right, I’m going to laugh about it. Once my mind was made up, all I had to do was sleep. Oh yeah, I’ll laugh it up. He’s going to get a real good night’s sleep…

I woke up twice in the night. Why is that? ‘I’m a better sleeper than you…’ get out of here with that kind of joke!

—

I woke up in a daze. It was cool and chilly, and I nuzzled my nose into the warmth in front of my face. I heard, “Good morning.”

“Mmm…” I replied softly. Huh?

The warmth was the chest of Tounoin’s pajamas, and I had slept hugging him! I tried to sit up, but he pulled my head back and said, “Now do you understand? I have confidence in my ability to reason,” reminding me of what I had thought before I fell asleep. I steeled myself to prepare for an escape.

“Yes, but you’re not a good sleeper, are you?”

Tounoin laughed, “I’ll be as careful as possible.” Now I’m sure you’ll be sleeping with me as long as I’m here. Don’t start barking now that your tail is out, wolf… I’m perfectly fine with it. But the AC is so low in this room that it feels good to be together… I’m in trouble… I fell asleep again and was woken up for lunch, and I felt embarrassed.

In the afternoon the two of us went out to look for an apartment again, but we didn’t find anything that day either. I withdrew my requirement for being able to practice the violin. I was satisfied with my modest request to be able to afford the rent, and making sure it was in Fujimi-cho, not too far from the station. But I couldn’t even find one that would satisfy those modest wishes. Most of the apartments in Fujimi-cho are bedroom-focused, and the emphasis on family units seemed to be a bottleneck. I didn’t mind living in an apartment with one or more baths, but the rent was accordingly expensive…

I had a Fujimi rehearsal in the evening, but I was tired from visiting real estate agencies. But I had promised Ishida-san that I would attend, so I started preparing in the evening. I realized that if I don’t play for a day, I can’t move my fingers the following day. Aside from the right hand that uses the bow, the left hand has to play on the strings almost of its own accord. To make up for a week’s absence of practicing, I spent three hours before heading to the Civic Center. But… fuck! This is just Allegro! Why can’t I move my fingers better than this?

“Morimura-san.”

Oh, I’m depressed, I missed it again. And it’s in such an easy position…

“Morimura-san!” He shouted in my ear. I looked up to see Tounoin looking down calmly.

“Go ahead, I’ll be on my way shortly.”

“Are your clothes OK? If you want to change…”

“No, thank you. It’s fine, it’s fine.” I only had two sets of clothes in my travel bag, and the ones I was wearing at the moment were procured by Tounoin because he thought it would be inconvenient to keep wearing the same clothes. He has good taste.

“So, we should leave soon. We can stop at Fujimi on the way home for dinner.”

“Yeah,” I nodded and thought to myself, is he acting like my guardian? Yeah… he is.

—

Fujimi’s summer vacation lasted ten days, and I returned on the second rehearsal after the vacation. I was escorted (or so it appeared) by Tounoin. We stepped into the main conference room of the Civic Center and got down to business as usual. I took out the folding chairs from the storage area and arranged them, took out the folding table and arranged it, then the tuner and checked the batteries… Tounoin helped me quietly, and when he was done he disappeared to somewhere else.

The first person to arrive was Ishida-san with his double bass, “Well, you’ve come out after all.” Apparently he had come to set up the venue in my stead. Everybody else seemed to come very quickly as well, and when they came up to talk to me they all knew about the fire in my apartment. I shouldn’t have felt annoyed that they were worried about me, but I also felt embarrassed, so I just said, “Thank you” and “It’s okay.” Kawashima-san also came to give her condolences.

“I was worried when I heard from my mother that you called me. Where on earth did you go…?” as she said this, the beautiful flutist looked at me with a puzzled expression. She knows about my relationship with Tounoin, except she stopped short of saying anything out loud.

I took the initiative, “Yes, actually, I’m staying at Tounoin-san’s right now,” Ishida-san knew about it, anyway. I added firmly, “In a clean and respectable way, as a housemate.”

Kawashima ran her white fingers through her pretty hair, “So are you still following the trend?”

“Of course not! I’m not gay!”

Kawashima-san cut me off, chuckling, “I’m sorry, I have to admit I have a little grudge against you, so I felt like teasing.” It was a one-way love triangle between me, Kawashima-san and Tounoin. I was in love with Kawashima-san, she fell in love with Tounoin at first sight, and Tounoin fell in love with me… then I was dumped by Kawashima-san, she was rejected by Tounoin, and of course I have no intention of becoming a lover to a man. But it was a joking manner of resentment. After all, she’s the one that keeps trying to get me and Tounoin together. She seems to think homosexual couples are ‘trendy,’ but you know… a man and a man bedding together is just an awful sight.

That evening we were supposed to be finishing up Finlandia, which we’ve been working on since last month… I took a break, and hadn’t touched my violin for a week. I looked at Igarashi-kun, the student cellist, and thought, ‘Well… let's see.’ I clapped my hands to get his attention. “Since everybody seems to be ready, can we try playing the part together? Strings, let’s do all the strings together and all the winds together. Timpani, please join the winds. Kaizuka-san, please take the lead of the wind section.”

The principal oboe raised her hand to gather the other winds, and I joined the string group, taking advantage of the rattling and rearranging. “Ichiyama-san,” I called the second violin leader. “I’m sorry, but I need you to be the leader today.”

“But Concertmaster, why are you stepping down?”

“I haven’t played for a week, so my fingers are completely rusty. I want to get back in shape before Tounoin-san gets here. Sorry to be so selfish.” Ichiyama, who was an accounting manager of a construction company in the next town, nodded seriously.

“I heard you were sick in bed with a cold. How are you feeling now?”

“Better, thanks.”

Igarashi-kun smiled at me as I joined the circle. He was especially happy, but everyone was already tired of practicing the monotonous long notes. The winds began to play and Ichiyama-san frowned. “I can’t hear very well,” he said. For the next forty minutes, until eight o’clock, we concentrated on uniting the string section.

“Stop, stop! We have to listen to each other more. If the string parts are not played like a single instrument, it will be more disjointed when we put it together with the winds. Then, let’s take it from bar 32.” The group with the timpani added to the woodwinds and brass seemed to be working hard to create the right harmony, playing and stopping. Playing and stopping. I had been able to instruct them on the right way to practice.

“Sorry,” said Nico-Chan, scratching his head. Ishida-san, who held the title of ‘Fujimi Citizen’s Symphony Orchestra Caretaker,’ had been sentenced by his wife to have his instrument taken away when he almost destroyed his main business, Mozart coffee shop, because he was so devoted to Fujimi. As a relief measure for the situation when we lost our bass player, we won her pardon so he could return to playing after almost ten years of being benched. He couldn’t help that he couldn’t produce a solid sound, but Ichiyama-san had been a friend of Ishida-san’s since the formation of Fujimi, and therefore had a relationship that allowed them to complain freely. Ishida-san apologized and tried his best to meet the order of playing ‘crisply’ in a serious manner. This was one of the things I liked about Fujimi, how in the family-like atmosphere warnings and advice were exchanged very naturally. We were all getting better together while having fun.

“Morimura-chan,” Ichiyama-san’s voice made me turn around. “You’ve got a lot of tension in your shoulders.”

“Oh, yes,” I lowered my violin and did some exercise with my shoulders. I’m getting really stiff.

“So, let’s start at measure forty-eight,” It’s really wonderful to have such colleagues, I thought. Oh, I’m in tune… yes, it’s going well. Eventually, at exactly the right time, Tounoin walked through the door after his five-minute observation and climbed up on the podium. I wondered where he had gone off to; I had thought he was going to be there for the earlier part of the rehearsal since he came over with me. Then I realized something: could it be that he did it for me? I didn’t mind at all, but it's true that I didn’t want it to be obvious that we had come to rehearsal together.

—

I was packing up to leave after Tounoin’s usual, ‘We’re done’ when Igarashi-kun came up to me, looking like he wanted to talk.

“So I heard that you were laid up for a while,” Igarashi is a current student in the cello department of the local music university, who started school the same year I graduated. He’s a cute guy who looks up to me for some reason. He’s talented, motivated, and cheerful, and also tends to be the ‘mood-maker’ in Fujimi.

“I caught a cold when I got stuck without a place to stay,” I replied, “But I’m all better now. Why?” I opened the floor for him.

“Actually…” he scratched his head, “The thing is… I’ve been ordered by the orchestra director to transcribe some music. It’s for a program in next month’s school festival, and it’s due tomorrow. I gathered my friends and we worked hard, but we still have a third of the score left to do.”

“Haha… what’s the piece?”

“A symphony composed by Kitagawa, a senior student in the composition department. It’s long and complicated.”

“Then you shouldn’t have come to rehearsal tonight.”

“If I didn’t take a break from it, I’d be dead by now. I’ve been up all night for two days and still haven’t finished.”

“So are you trying to get another cat’s paw?” Igarashi rubbed the back of his head as I talked.

“Sempai, please. I’ll get you midnight snacks and breakfast!”

Transcribing music is literally copying music, but not the easy way with the photocopier. What Igarashi and his friends were doing was creating parts from the conductor’s score, the music that represents the entire piece. However, for each player in the orchestra the score is inconvenient, since all the notes of the instruments are written in the music, and each page only consists of four to six measures per page, requiring frequent page turns. So for the performers, a part must be made from the score, a transcription of the part from the general score, and it must be done for each instrument; for first violin the first violin part, oboe for the oboe, percussion for percussion. Of course, for major works by popular composers such as Mozart, Beethoven and Toshiro Mutsu, the publishers give you both the score and parts if you buy them (or if there are copyright restrictions, you can rent them for a fee) — or copy them if you can get away with it. However, the ones that Igarashi and his colleagues are working on are by a student composer, with only the original score to work with…

In other words, the only option was to take the score and write out the parts, which I had done many times. The ‘Freude Orchestra’ was formed as a music college club, and had a tradition of playing newly composed pieces by fellow students mixed in with regular concert programming. In Fujimi, whenever I needed to make my own arrangements for missing parts, I was the one to do the transcribing (Nico could do the arranging as well, but as a busy coffee shop owner he usually didn’t have time to do it). So I know firsthand the difficulty Igarashi and the others are facing.

“Okay, I’ll help you out,” I answered. “Where have you been working on it?”

Igarashi looked relieved, “In my apartment, we only have the string parts left to do.”

“Is it a good piece?”

“It’s not bad. Mayuzumi said it was a great work, but…”

“Hahaha!” I realized that the only people left in the practice room were me, Igarashi and Tounoin, and everything but the chair I was sitting on had been put away. I told the tall conductor, “I’m going to go with Igarashi-kun to help him with some transcribing right now, so please go home first.” He stared at me for a moment and nodded. He quickly left the room. “I’m staying with him for right now, since I haven’t been able to find a reasonable apartment,” I explained.

“Oh…” Igarashi nodded. After that, I felt like he was secretly biting back a laugh, but that was probably my paranoia. “Well, you really saved my life. I was wondering what I would do if Morimura-san refused me.”

I finally escaped, didn’t I? But while listening to Igarashi’s smiling voice, I was thinking of how Tounoin’s back looked somewhat depressed as he walked away. It’s not a bad feeling to have somebody worry about you, but he’s being overly protective. I’m a full-grown man, I can take care of myself. I don’t need a guardian anymore.

—-

Igarashi’s apartment was on the third floor of a newer reinforced concrete building, just a few blocks from my old place that had burned down. The room, which was about six tatami mats with a kitchen, was fairly clean, and two exhausted-looking coworkers were waiting for Igarashi to return with his helper. The windows were open and the air was a bit stuffy, but there was no fan running. A pile of staff paper scattered about the room was the reason why they couldn’t have any inadvertent breeze.

“This is Kikuchi on clarinet and Oyama on piano.” Kikuchi was a small man with pouty lips that looked like the type of person who would play clarinet. Both of them were dressed in running shirts and pants, and their eyes were red, their faces full of stubble and fatigue.

“I’m Morimura. How many more pages do you have to do?” The symphony, titled Yuguna, is a large work with a performance time of fifty minutes, filled with waves of sixteenth notes mixed with thirty-second notes in modulation after modulation, a characteristic of modern music. I could tell from a glance of the score that it was a difficult piece. However, I could see a glimpse of talent in the unique melodic quality of the phrases, which was probably why it was chosen as the piece for the Freude Orchestra’s regular concert. But...I put my face close to the handwritten copy. Is that a C? Or is it a D?...D apparently… it’s hard to tell.

“It’s hard enough to read, isn’t it?”

“I think you should probably re-write the whole score while you’re at it,” I said, and the atmosphere quieted down. I realized that I had lost my mind. Damn it, these people…

“Well, I guess Kitagawa-kun will conduct, so I’ll just leave it at that.”

I tried to recover my position, but then one of them said, “Yoshida is the senior in the conducting department, he’s going to conduct it…”

“So…”

“I’ll take care of the conductor’s score.” Igarashi’s face lit up as I said it with a sacrificial look of resignation.

“I’ll do the second violin,” Kikuchi said, “Who’s gonna take cello?”

“I don’t mind doing the cello part,” Oyama said, staring at the copy of the score, “Just the cello.”

“How much time do we have?”

I flipped through the part, trying to assess how long I thought it would take, when Igarashi said in a small voice, “I promised to have it done by nine o’clock…”

“... in the morning, right?”

“Hahaha, well…”

“So we’ve only got ten hours! What are you waiting for? Staff paper! Pens!” There was no point in transcribing music if you can’t make it accurate and legible. And most of the time, you have to race against the clock.

I started with the first violin part, one of the two that I had been assigned. There is only one conductor’s score, but there are eighteen violins in a full orchestra. Priority was given to the many. I wrote in the note heads as fast as I could, going back and adding the stems after I had written a few measures' worth. Then I wrote the accidentals as needed — oops, it’s in B-flat from here. Damn it, I don’t want anybody to get keystroke from… for moving chords around so much. It’s a six-bar break, not five. Oh, is it natural or sharp? No, it’s natural. Hey, is that an E or an F or… uh…

“Igarashi-kun,” I called out to him from halfway across the table, where he was focused on his own work.

Without looking up, Igarashi placed something in front of me. It was dice.

“Is this..?”

“If it’s an even number, it’s E.”

“So you want me to roll the dice to decide which pitch it is? That’s random…” I mumbled, and began to examine the chords to try and draw a conclusion from their spelling.

“Iga, give me the dice,” said Kikuchi, who was behind me using a beer container as a desk. Igarashi tossed him the dice.

“I need them too,” said Oyama, who was also using a makeshift desk next to me.

“What, you’re all doing it that way? You’re lousy transcribers, aren’t you?”

Kikuchi muttered to me as he rolled the dice for Oyama, “I’m sure Morimura-san will figure out why soon enough.”

I knew that if I had to guess and interpret every chord, I would never make the deadline in time. Damn it, if it’s difficult, it’s probably a great piece. I don’t get this music at all! I started working on it about ten o’clock, and it was past midnight when I finished the violin part with the measure numbers written in. I skipped checking the music at this point and started transcribing the whole score. If there were any mistakes, they could find them in rehearsal and if not, then it’ll be what it is. After all, I had to finish this thick book of sheet music by eight o’clock at the latest… But let’s be real, this is impossible! It’s physically not possible to do in seven hours what it would take three people like Igarashi and his team two days and nights to do. But we had to get whatever we could done. As I wrote the names of the parts on the second sheet of the score, I called out to Igarashi, “The piano parts are done. I can’t finish the score by nine o’clock, but I’ll do as much as possible.”

“You’ve finished the violin part already?”

“Really? Wow, that’s fast!” Igarashi picked up the completed part. “I can’t believe this is handwritten! Morimura-san, you could make a living as a transcriber!”

“What? Which one? Wow, that’s great.”

��That’s true, the first violinists are lucky.”

“Ah…” I didn’t have time to be happy even if they praised me. Okay, brass is done. Next is…. but it’s so hot, even with the windows open, because there’s no breeze coming in. The rest of them were wearing only their underwear; they had told me to take mine off too, and I would feel better. So I took my shirt off, though I wasn’t wearing underwear so I was only naked on top, but it’s only guys here anyway.

I was writing out the harp section on page 43 when I heard, “Oh, it’s finally done!” Oyama exhaled a deep breath and suddenly fell back onto the tatami floor. “It’s already four o’clock and I’m starving,” he said and rummaged through the bag from the convenience store that was left there.

“There’s a ramen if you want it,” replied Igarashi, still moving his pen.

“If you make it for me, I’ll eat it.”

“What about you, Morimura-san?” He asked me. I was about to answer ‘no’ when I remembered that I had skipped dinner, and I was almost at the limit of my energy with my stiff shoulders.

“I’ll eat. I missed dinner.”

“So you want me to make two?”

“No, just one.” I quickly sipped the cup of ramen while reading the rest of the score, and returned to my writing. As I started the fiftieth page, Kikuchi announced that he was done with his work. As soon as he finished his ramen, he flopped down beside Oyama, who had fallen asleep, and he did the same.

“So depressed that they’re done already,” muttered Igarashi. Oyama was snoring, Kikuchi had a peaceful sleeping breath, and the sound of Igarashi and my pens running on the paper… the smell of ramen and the sweat of tired young people… I noticed a cool breeze coming through the window, and when I raised my eyes it was light outside. I breathed in the brief freshness that comes between the tropical night and a hot day. Now only a hundred pages to go.

When Igarashi packed his and the other’s finished bunches of parts into paper bags and left the apartment, I was still wrestling with a job that would take another six hours. The sun was on the way up. The hot room was somehow even hotter; sweat dripped from my hair as I bent over the staff paper, so I wrapped a towel around my head. It trickled down my bare chest and armpits, even on the back of my hand. Sweat gushes out in beads no matter how much I wipe it off, making the pen slip in my hand. I took a short break when I had just started the 100th page. In order to reduce the remaining 50 pages as much as possible, I did one more page in the three minutes I was waiting for the cup o’noodles to be ready, but it took me longer than I thought it would, and the ramen turned into udon.

As I slurped down the bloated noodles, I thought about how I was too good-natured. I felt like an idiot for staying up all night on a job that has nothing to do with me or Fujimi… speaking of which, I wonder if Tounoin was worried about me. But at this hour, it would be an imposition to make a phone call, and I don’t even know his phone number in the first place… well, it should be ok, I already mentioned that I was doing the transcription, and he should know that it’s a time-consuming job. I finished the soup, drank two glasses of Aquarius to rehydrate myself, and took up the pen to resume work. Ahh, my hands hurt, my eyes are tired… but if I rested now, I wouldn’t be able to finish the job. Give me strength… I wrote the last symbol on the last page, and the long, long job was done. Eighteen hours of work! My fingers were so stiff they creaked when I tried to put the pen down. I took off my glasses, which felt like they were burrowing into my nostrils, and placed them on top of the finished score. I was tired~

Igarashi and his friends had not returned yet. Come to think of it, he said he had rehearsal in the evening. It’s hard for the underclassmen when they’re overworked by their seniors… I was going to just leave my score behind and go back to Tounoin’s place, but when I laid down to stretch my back — which was stiff as a board — I didn’t want to get up again. I decided to sleep while looking after the house until Igarashi returned. Feeling my tired body falling asleep, I patted myself on the back for a job well done.

—

I smelled food and drink. The sound of voices, sometimes loud and sometimes guttural. It sounded like I was in the middle of a drinking party. I turned over in my sleep, thinking it was too noisy.

“Oh, Morimura-san, are you awake?” I heard Igarashi’s voice say, and felt him come over to look at me. I pretended to still be asleep. They were probably celebrating being done with the transcription, but right now I wanted to sleep more than drink.

“Morimura-san, we have Oden. Hey, Morimura-san.” I didn’t want it, just let me sleep.

“No, he won’t wake up,” I heard Igarashi say to his friends.

“Ah, well he’s a great person. Did you see the score? He rewrote it down to the last page. I admire him,” Kikuchi replied.

“He’s a very serious person, he never makes mistakes on the violin. He practices like a pro, I bet.”

“And he’s cute, too…” Oyama’s voice said, “I didn’t notice it until I saw him sleeping just now. So amazing.” His speech was slurred, so clearly he was drunk.

“Hey, Oyama, don’t be weird,” Igarashi said with a laugh.

“What do you mean ‘weird’? Beethoven and Karajan had male lovers. Genius lives in homosexuality,” after making this startling counterargument, he seemed to stand up.

“Hey Oyama, sit down,” Igarashi said.

“Hehe, just look at him,” he said, and inwardly I frowned as I felt liquored breath on my face. “The more I look at him, the more attractive he is… so cute. Haha, he has such a beautiful chest… and smooth skin… and perky nipples.”

“Hey if Morimura-san wakes up he’s going to kick your ass!” Kikuchi yelled. Oh, I’ll kick his ass alright.

“Beethoven, Karajan… why are you making up that kind of bullshit?”

“Someday you’re gonna get killed, saying that kind of stuff.”

“It’s not bullshit, and I’m a genius. When I see a guy like this I get so horny… he’s so sexy...” The reason I didn’t take action until the person speaking slammed into me was because I was just too tired to bother moving.

“Whoa!” It wasn’t me who screamed, but Igarashi and Kikuchi. My mouth was blocked by the boozy lips stuck to my face. As I struggled, Oyama gasped and said, “You look so sexy, ahh…” as he groped my chest and stomach.

“You idiot! Stop it! Stop it!”

“Oyama, goddamn it, stop!” The two of them were yelling and trying to pull Oyama off of me.

I twisted Oyama’s ear, which he grabbed with his struggling hand, then I slapped him as hard as I could in the face.“You perverted son of a bitch!” I shouted and glared at him.

Oyama looked at me soberly, “This… you! You hit me! I’ll fuck you up!!”

“Oyama! That’s enough!”

“I’m sorry Morimura-san, so sorry!”

“Dammit, let me have a shot at him!” Oyama yelled, and still tried to grab at me while being pinned down by Igarashi and Kikuchi. I almost punched him, but I thought twice about it when I noticed a poster of some chamber music group on the wall behind Oyama. That’s right, I’m a violinist, and my hands are my most important tool. I looked around and saw a bottle of wine. I grabbed it in my other hand and swung it over Oyama’s head; he thought I was going to crack his skull, and Igarashi held up his hands in surprise. But what I threw at his head was… alcohol. After I emptied the contents of the bottle on Oyama’s head, I threw the bottle down.

“There, I’ve cooled you down a bit, asshole!” I spat at him between my clenched teeth. I glanced at the three rigid men and put on the clothes I had taken off. Damn it, if I had known I’d get mixed up in something like this, I wouldn’t have agreed to do anything. I stepped into my sneakers and opened the door.

“Oh, Morimura-san, please wait!” Igarashi dashed after me, but I ignored him. “Sorry, I’m so sorry! I’m really sorry this happened after you helped me so much. I’m sorry!” Igarashi was crying. “When he gets drunk he turns into a monster, but he usually doesn’t do that sort of thing! I’ve never seen him do anything like that before.”

“So are you saying it’s my fault?” Igarashi fell silent for a moment when I sprayed him with the cold anger that was inside me. I looked at him sideways. Igarashi followed me and wept with a crumpled face. I sighed and stopped. “...I know it’s not your fault. I can’t tell you not to worry about it, though.”

“I’m sorry…!” Igarashi squeaked out and sobbed. “Oh I… I can’t go to Fujimi anymore.”

“...are you saying you’re going to make the cello section vacant?”

“No, because I…”

It came out of nowhere. The blood that had been frozen in the pit of my stomach shot up to my head and I yelled as loud as I could, “Don’t be stupid! Don’t you dare waste that shit score I just transcribed for you! And now I’m repaid by getting teased by a drunk and being told that our only cello is quitting? Do you think I’m an idiot?”

Igarashi’s eyes darted as he looked up at me, mumbling, “I’m sorry...I’m sorry…”

“It’s all right, as long as you understand,” I said, and walked away. I thought how the tone of voice I used was like Tounoin’s. Come to think of it, Tounoin… is he worried? It was already night again, and I had left my watch in Igarashi’s apartment, but it was too late to go back. I hurried through the humid night, passing by the convenience store near the apartment. Remembering that I was hungry, I turned around. No, wait, I don’t have any money. But I went ahead and took a peek at the clock at the cash register before I turned the corner again; just before one o’clock… ‘I wonder if Tounoin is asleep,’ I thought, and then I realized: I don’t have my keys. I still haven’t made another spare since I lost the last one, and the last time I left the apartment I was with Tounoin, so I didn’t realize that I would need it. I’m in trouble… guess I’ll have to camp outside of the door again…

I knocked several times, but there was no answer and the door didn’t open. I twisted the knob, hoping that it would work — the door was unlocked. It was dark in the cool, air-conditioned room, and Tounoin seemed to have fallen asleep. Feeling like a curfew-breaking teenager, I stealthily took off my shoes and entered the room, trying to dampen the sound of my footsteps. Tounoin was in the bed, asleep. I slipped my violin case on the shelf and walked quietly to open the door of the cabin without making any noise. I took a quick shower (the hot water needs some time to come out, but I didn’t want to wake up Tounoin), changed into my pajamas, and crept into the kitchen to get at least a piece of bread. I found a sandwich from the convenience store sitting on the table, a box of cup soup, a cup and a pot of hot water. As I took a bite, my heart was filled with a sincere feeling. ‘You’re a good guy, Tounoin…’ as my rumbling stomach settled down, I was ready to forget about what stupid Oyama had done to me, that damn drunk. I turned off the lights in the cabin and snuck back into the main room. I slipped into the space Tounoin had left open for me, and breathed a sigh of relief.

I heard a half-asleep voice say, “Oh… you’re back…”

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Did you finish the transcription?”

“It was an all-nighter, eighteen hours of work.”

“...are you okay?”

“Yeah, I just want to go to sleep.”

“Good night.”

“Good night,” I said, and I fell asleep right away… around what seemed to be dawn I woke up because it was cold, but it was too much effort to get up and turn off the air conditioner, so I chose to huddle closer to the warmth that was near me. It was so warm… Tounoin seemed to notice and hugged my shoulder, but I was already drifting back to sleep so I didn’t know, and didn’t care. I’m not sure if it’s because I trusted that I would be safe with Tounoin, or because I believed he was different from Oyama and that narcissistic, violent homosexual Yasaka.

—

The next day was super, as if all the bad luck I had been having was turned upside-down. It was literally my lucky day. First of all, the manager of the bank came to visit me with a gift. He told me that due to a computer processing error, my salary — which should have been deposited into my account — had been transferred to another customer’s account. The manager bowed his grasshopper-like bald head and said, “Please keep this matter to yourself.” He left me a noshi envelope with a greeting card and a brush writing on it. Inside was two months of my salary. I showed it to Tounoin.

“This is how much they gave.”

He sniffed in frustration, “I’m not sure if that is adequate compensation for their part in causing these difficulties.”

“Well, yes, but it’s all over now…”

“If that’s what you want, then it’s not my place to tell you otherwise.”

“But I feel bad, you know… crashing in front of your apartment and all…”

“I was happy to do it,” Tounoin said, turning away from me with a sigh. I remembered that I needed to find a new apartment as soon as possible; I felt bad staying here forever.

The second lucky break came at a real estate agency in a neighboring town, where I went separately from Tounoin.

“There’s a one-bedroom and bath for 40,000 yen, a three-year old condo on the 6th floor.”

“In Fujimi-cho?” I was about to jump for it without question, but the old owner’s eyes flashed behind his glasses.

“To be honest, it’s been hard to keep occupied. Since this past April, three people have already left within a month of each other.”

“No way… did somebody just move out again?” The realtor shook his head in disbelief.

“The person in the apartment above play music loudly at all hours of the night and day. But you can’t complain about it, because it’s occupied by the landlord’s son, so you know…”

What? Could that be…? “Is it a tall apartment building down the corner from a convenience store…?”

“Oh, do you know it? It belongs to the bank president, so the facilities are top-notch, but just that one room on the 6th floor has been vacant since June. The floor is the only part that isn’t soundproof, and nobody could stand the ‘noise’ coming from the ceiling. So the rent has been discounted by 80,000 yen.”

“How big is it?” The realtor gave me a look like I shouldn’t ask, but told me that it was a Japanese-style eight-tatami-mat room with a four-and-a-half-tatami dining and kitchen. It also had AC and heating. “I’ll take it,” I said. “40,000 for a one bedroom with bath, AC and background music is too good to be true, I’d even put up with a ghost or two.”

“Well, if you say so…” the agent pulled out a contract with a face that said ‘Don’t come crying to me later.’ The name on the rental contract was ‘Inmitsu Tounoin.’ I thought of an old gentleman with gray hair, but if he was Tounoin’s father he couldn’t be that old. Rent can be paid via bank transfer; so, he’s the son of a banker, I knew he wasn’t a commoner. I’ve got three months’ deposit and money for the key, plus rent for this month and next month thanks to the ‘condolences’ money from the bank —but that’s a small price to pay for luck. “Ah, also I’d like you to get a guarantor.” The agent pointed to a blank space on the contract, “Here’s where your name and address are, please put your seal here.”

“Is it okay if I bring it back in a couple of days?”

“Yes, that’s fine. Here’s the address. Oh, right, you know where it is, don’t you? Now, the key.”

I took the key and asked, “Which bank president is the landlord?”

“Fujimi Bank, sir?” He looked at me like he couldn’t possibly not know the president of a long-established bank in this area.

“Oh… and that’s located in…”

“It’s in Seijo. But I’m the property manager. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask me.” It seems that I wouldn’t have a chance to cross paths with Tounoin’s father; I was a little curious what kind of person he is. On my way home, I stopped by Ishida-san’s Mozart.

“Oh, in Tounoin’s building?” He smiled and said, “Well, I’m glad you found a nice place.” He smiled and said, “Since you found an apartment…” he pulled out a cardboard box from under the counter. It was full of sheets, towels, tea bowls, cups, pots and pans… “Kawashima-san is indeed a solid office worker. She made a ‘list of items needed to reconstruct a house’ rather than just gathering donation money, asked people to give their unused items from their houses, and it turned out to be enough for a whole house. That was the idea.”

“She’s going to make a great wife, I’m sure.” She knew that I’d mind if it was money, so she collected practical items. The fish that gets away is always big… “Um, so, could I get some coffee vouchers?”

“You don’t have to give anything back in return.”

“Yes, but I want to give something to Tounoin-san.”

“Oh, I see. So you want some coffee coupons?”

“It’s practical, isn’t it? Please, I’ll take three books of ten vouchers.” Ishida-san smiled a little apologetically; I’m sure that he knows I’m buying them as a way to repay him for the money he gave me when he visited.

“By the way, I’d like to talk to you about something,” Ishida-san stepped up to the counter, changing from owner of Mozart to that of Fujimi caretaker, “For our next piece, why don’t we do Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto?”

“A violin concerto?”

Ishida-san looked around quickly and whispered with conspiratorial enthusiasm, “I got the hall reserved at the Civic Center. There was a cancellation for Sunday, November 27th.”

“So… would it be a regular concert?”

“Not anymore, it would be a proper concert.”

“Oh, are you sure we have enough time to prepare?” Ishida-san nodded smugly as I was leaning over the counter.

“I was thinking that we should do it this year, now that we have Tounoin-san with us. I really wanted to do it after New Year’s, but I heard that the hall would be under renovation from January to May. I happened across that cancellation, so I jumped at the chance even though I was a bit busy.”

“Yes, I’ll do it, I’ll do it.”

“So I thought I’d like to include the Mendelssohn.”

“That sounds great! But… what about the soloist?”

“There’s already one,” Ishida-san pointed at me.

“Me…? I’ll be the soloist?”

“Icchan agrees.” Come on…

“But we’ve never done a piece with a solo before…”

“So that’s why we should do it. It’s good for us to do one once and awhile.”

“But then what about the first violins…”

“We have Goto-chan, Miyake-chan, Kijima-san, Nitta-san, Yoshiko Suzuki-san, Hirota-san… why don’t you ask Haruyama-san to join from the seconds?”

“Then the second violins would be Ichiyama-san, Higashi-san, Hirai-san…”

“Seven people would be enough, right?”

“Yes, in terms of just numbers…” but when it came to balance of competence...

The door chime rang and a group of housewives walked in, and Ishida-san turned to welcome them and prepare some glasses of water. “Well, you should think about it, and discuss it with Tounoin-kun.”

“Yes, I’ve always wanted to do a concerto, but…”

“All the strings were saying that they wanted Morimura-chan to do a solo.”

“Hah...haha.”

—-

On my way home my feet were skipping lightly. ‘We can have a concert, we can have a concert. For the first time in two years, Fujimi can have a concert!’ I ran around the corner, bounded up the stairs and opened the door with my freshly made spare key. The sound of the Brandenburg Concerto hit me, but I was deaf to it today.

“Tounoin! Tounoin! I slid down on my knees in front of him, where he was sitting cross-legged in his usual spot. “We’re having a concert! November 27th!”

Tounoin made a gesture of ‘I can’t hear you, please wait’ and went to stop the music. As soon as the sound stopped, I repeated myself, “A concert has been scheduled! Sunday, November 27th, Shimin Kaikan Hall! Ishida-san was able to get a date because of a cancellation, and asked me if I wanted to play the Mendelssohn Violin Concerto!”

Tounoin looked at me from in front of the console, and I realized that I was very excited in contrast to his calm demeanor. My face flushed. “No, but do you know, it’s been two years since we had a concert.”

“November?” Said Tounoin in a cold voice.

“I know it’s soon, so it’s going to be hard, but it’s at the end of the month… so it’s about three months away, right?

Tounoin’s complexion softened, “It depends on how we do it. I don’t mind.”

“Really? Great…! So…” he glanced at the envelope in my hand.

“Oh, did you get something?”

“I was kind of lucky today, I found an apartment as well.” I pulled the contract out of the envelope, and when I was about to show it to him, I noticed the look in his eyes was somewhat complicated. At once I felt something flutter in my stomach; it was the first time I felt that. “It wasn’t a bad idea to crash here, but it was an emergency situation for both of us. Anyway, the place I got is cheap, well-equipped, and convenient. I’ve already signed the contract.”

“That’s good to hear,” said Tounoin with a deep sigh. If I remained here, it would only cause more suffering… the word ‘Love’ is very similar to the word ‘Strange’...

“Well, actually, I do need a guarantor,” I opened the contract and placed it in front of him. “Would you mind?”

“Yeah, well that’s already...” he said as he picked up the contract with a hand that was trying not to show his reluctance… I froze. I wasn’t sure if this was a good idea or not, his normally cool, long eyes were round.

“Not bad, huh?” I asked. Tounoin secretly panicked and turned his head, pretending to read the contract.

“...It’s okay, I guess. How much is it?”

“40,000. But it’s only a minute’s walk to the civic center. I think it’s great. Now, why don’t you say something?”

With his head down, Tounoin patted various pockets. Then, “I’ll go get a pen,” he said.

“I’ll also need your seal,” I said, starting to stand up.

“Please stay here,” Tounoin said, “...I’m afraid I’m going to have to hug you.” Then he ran off into the cabin. I laughed, I couldn’t believe that the man who sells himself on his pride and arrogance lost his nerve like that. Just because I happened to get an apartment in the same building as his, that’s all. Then I felt a stinging pain in my heart at the thought. I got up and went into the cabin, but when I saw Tounoin’s back at the kitchen table, I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t have the right to ask him if he wanted to continue being a snake charmer for the rest of our lives, and it’s hypocritical for me to consider his feelings when I made the decision that I wanted to be his friend and nothing more… I pulled another envelope out of my pocket and approached his back.

I was spoiled by his kindness, but that together with when he agreed to give up on pursuing me, for the time being made us even. “And also this. I don’t know if I can thank you enough, but I mean, I feel…” I put the envelope over his shoulder on the table.

He opened it as delicately as if it were a sparrow’s tapestry and froze again, but this time he got over it in an instant. “Thank you, I’ll treat you to Mozart’s coffee for the time being.” He turned around and had put on his poker face… ha, he’s not good at accepting this.

“Yeah, I’m sure we’ll be over there to talk about everything until the performance.” Here as well.

“‘I’ll never go out with you for coffee or dinner,’' He said with a smile, reminding me of what I had told him. After all, this was the game between us. I want to make sure that we are friends, and Tounoin wants to develop into lovers. But I won’t be the one to lose.

—-

I woke up in the middle of the night after being kicked twice. The next morning, while Tounoin was making coffee and I was cooking bacon and eggs, I mentioned it to him.

“Well, you stole the blanket twice and gave me an uppercut,” he replied.

“I think even a double bed is too small for two men.”

When I glared at him, he said, “Well, it’s big enough if you’re embracing each other,” and laughed… that was the first time I ever heard Tounoin laugh out loud. The kitchen here is nice and bright. For the one in my apartment, it remains to be seen.

#long post #light novels #bl light novel #light novel translations #fujimi orchestra #fo #yaoi #yaoi novel #Akizuki Koh #Nishi Keiko #kei x yuuki #orchestra #classical music #tw: noncon

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hopevalley · 3 years

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The Real Problem with the Love Triangle

Here we are, in Season 8, and I feel like I’ve finally settled on what it is I hate about the love triangle.

I mean, there are a lot of things wrong with it. It divides the fans, it splits the attention of the scenes between two “potential” romances instead of one certain one, and, perhaps one of its biggest offenses: it’s in the spotlight due to the fact that the plotline was given to the main character.

I could talk about all of these, and I could do it all day, but let’s just look at them quickly (because I do feel there’s a bigger issue than any of these at play, here).

It divides the fans. Yikes? They clearly expected some kind of...I don’t know, Twilight-era Team Jacob/Team Edward split, but Twilight’s endgame was always painfully clear. It’s not that fans weren’t disappointed by the reality when it hit, but...I don’t think many people were...genuinely surprised by it, either. Splitting the fans of an already itty-bitty teeny-tiny fandom was maybe not the best idea, but I guess I can see why they took the risk. After so many characters left the show in S5 (Frank, Dottie, Phillip, Shane, Jack) they probably felt they had to do something drastic to keep the fans invested in the show.

It splits the screentime between two potential romances instead of one certain one. This is less yikes in some ways and moreso in others. The biggest issue with this is mostly that When Calls the Heart has limited screentime to begin with, so splitting screentime and therefore also believable development of any romance makes everything take twice as long to happen, which can either bog down the show (if they take the time to do things correctly) or everything will feel rushed (if they skip proper character development).

It’s in the spotlight. Obviously they had to do this to get attention from the fans, but I can’t help but think that a genuine love triangle for a side character/background character might have been a more appealing option story-wise. Having the focus of the triangle be on Elizabeth means that most of the fans are very invested in their choice...which is GREAT up until the point where it’s suddenly not anymore. Writing yourself into a position where approximately half of the fanbase will be disappointed, perhaps even to the loss of their viewership when things don’t go their way (this is always a risk) is...maybe not the best idea. I can’t imagine anyone would quit over a minor love triangle storyline (for example, Bill/Molly/AJ or Fiona/Kevin/Hickam). Sure, you won’t have the level of engagement in the fans that Lucas/Elizabeth/Nathan brings to the table, but I think it could be fun while also not really risking anything. Not many people would stop watching if Fiona picked Hickam over Kevin, you know?

There are other problems with the love triangle and the concept/use of it, but I think the writers at least tried to make it feel balanced. Did they succeed? Well, that’s personal opinion, so I won’t get into that, but you can tell the effort was there from the start.

So we have a love triangle. Lucas and Nathan are both vying for Elizabeth’s affection, and the crux of Season 8 is: she needs to choose one of them.

Which brings me to my thesis statement.

The problem with the love triangle is that the choice is limited to two options.

She chooses Nathan.

She chooses Lucas.

I think logically as a fan and as a writer who occasionally does enjoy trashy tropes, it’s really no surprise that one of these choices is going to be endgame. What’s annoying—what hurts the love triangle the most—is that they are also the only options presented to the audience. They are the only options Elizabeth and those around her are openly considering.

In reality, there are at least three options.

She chooses Nathan.

She chooses Lucas.

She chooses nobody/to remain single.

We all know When Calls the Heart is a romantic “period drama” so naturally the writers leaned into writing the romance. And again, we know that one of these men is endgame.

But when you’re writing something like this, a plotline that is most assuredly risking future viewership to some degree, you can’t really forget that Staying Single is equally as good an option as Lucas or Nathan.

It’s made worse with things like time skips. Elizabeth has had plenty of time to make a choice if she wanted to make one. She’s obviously not that attached to either man if she’s just going to leave them hanging like that. I think it could be argued that she’s avoided letting herself get too emotionally intimate with either of them on purpose—because she’s scared to try again after what happened to Jack, she’s afraid of having to feel like that again—but that lends credence to my thesis: if she’s not that emotionally attached, and she’s not ready to actually move forward romantically, then...Staying Single is looking like a great option.

But...not one character in the show has told her that. No one encourages it. Not Rosemary (which I sort of expect), not Bill or Henry or Florence (who all seem likely candidates), not anyone. It’s not like Elizabeth’s still heavily mourning Jack (if so, I could see her friends eagerly encouraging her past that). She seems perfectly content by herself and is seemingly doing a good job of raising her son. She doesn’t need a man. She doesn’t act like she wants one.

So why does she have to choose between TWO of them?

What could fix it? Not much at this point. Elizabeth said ages ago that she was ready to move on, or at least try, and that was followed up by all of her friends (Rosemary and Clara specifically) being extremely pushy about how she needed to find romance again. Not once were all of her fears/anxieties seriously discussed and validated.

The best they can do now is have someone close to Elizabeth point out that if she’s not ready to move on, or simply doesn’t want to get involved in a romance again, she doesn’t have to pick anyone (but should be honest with both Lucas and Nathan that she’s not looking for that kind of commitment in her life). It’s also possible that Elizabeth herself could come to this conclusion and speak it aloud to a friend like Rosemary. Just because both men are interested doesn’t mean she has to pick either of them.

I know the fans have been really frustrated at the triangle, specifically how drawn-out it’s been, but I think the reason for that is that Elizabeth’s character has been written in this...really confusing sort of way where...she’s understandably not ready to move on right after her husband has passed away, but even though she’s still in mourning the “potential suitors” get shoved down her throat (and ours) for two full seasons. We (and she, by extension) never get the idea that she could just choose to stay single. The next “logical” step is to choose a man. And that would be fine if she were like Mary Dunbar from the first season, but...she’s the main character. We should see her considering all of her choices.

And like, not to be a fun-killer, but...everything from the past few seasons makes me think she’d just be happier single. That’s the issue, too, with not giving Elizabeth “staying single” as a valid choice: we’re all kind of at a point where we all see how poor her relationship to both suitors is and we’re like, “Hey...maybe neither of them are good options for her at this point in her life.”

Certainly the ensemble-style show lately has contributed to less screentime for Elizabeth and therefore also Lucas/Elizabeth and Nathan/Elizabeth stuff, but I think this could all be fixed if...her choice wasn’t between the two of them, but between choosing to date again vs. choosing not to. She has a career. She has a child. She has a lot of friends. She doesn’t NEED a man, so I want “choosing a man” to feel like...she actually WANTS to date. She WANTS to be romanced. She WANTS physical affection/sex/to be loved and cared for in a romantic fashion.

If I felt that Elizabeth was wholly into the idea of romance and dating and finding someone to live out the rest of her life with, then I might feel good about the love triangle, and about her trying to decide which of two decent men she’d like to allow to court her first.

But because she doesn’t seem eager to court or date, we feel like she never made the decision to move on, and as a result of all of this and the writers trying to keep the love triangle balanced (which unintentionally makes her seem equally DISINTERESTED IN BOTH MEN), her relationships with both Lucas and Nathan feel flat and uninspiring.

TL;DR? The love triangle should have been presented from the start as Nathan vs. Lucas vs. Staying Single, and then we wouldn’t be in a situation where she’s known these men for two+ years and has been ready to move on for more than one of those years, and still doesn’t feel like she knows either man well enough to choose which of them she might like to court.

If we would have started with three choices, she could have spent all of Season 6 working on eliminating one of the options (staying single, in this case) while also being open to CLOSE friendship with both Lucas and Nathan*. Then, in Season 7, she could find that while it’s flattering to have the attention of two good men, it’s emotionally draining and anxiety-inducing to feel she has to choose between them as she likes them both a great deal and doesn’t want to hurt either of them.

*I think they were sort of trying for this, but it fell flat. It would have been ideal to have Lucas and Nathan confide in Elizabeth about deeply personal/emotional things that never leave those scenes. Fears, concerns, they could have some inside jokes... In order for a love triangle that lasts a long time to work, she has to feel very close to both men...and right now she doesn’t feel close to either of them.

As an aside, the love triangle would definitely feel softer around the edges if it wasn’t pushed from Day 1 as a Thing They Were Doing. Elizabeth forming close friendships with two men without TPTB ever saying anything about romance (let alone a love triangle) would have given the characters time to feel like they’re friends first. What we got was romance shoved down our throat (à la “Elizabeth’s still in mourning because her husband seriously just died BUT ALSO LOOK AT THESE TWO NEW MEN... WHICH WILL SHE CHOOSE WHEN SHE’S READY TO MOVE ON?!”) which put too much pressure on the triangle and the characters/interactions from the get-go. It felt like they jumped from brand-new acquaintances to love interests in the span of five minutes...which is, you know...bad.

#when calls the heart #analysis and meta discussion #character studies and information #elizabeth thornton #long post

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nyctolovian · 4 years

Text

Welcome to the Queer Beer Frontier

This is an incredibly self-indulgent word vomit of my sexuality/gender headcanons for TMA S1 Archival Gang.

Summary: The S1 Archival Gang are all not cishet. That's the whole fic.

Link to AO3

"Am I right, Jon?"

With eyes glazed over with intoxication, he looked up from his glass. "Huh?"

"Keira Knightley," Tim said, raising an eyebrow. "You're the only person I can turn to for this. The other two are useless in this regard."

"I don't… I don't get…" Jon frowned and glanced towards the other two at the table. Neither was of any help though, because Sasha merely stared at him silently with amusement twinkling in her eyes while Martin busied himself with… something under the table. "What are you talking about?"

"Aww... Doesn't he look adorable when he's confused?" Sasha said, turning to Martin, who sputtered and glared indignantly back at her.

Before Jon could even begin to decipher what just transpired, Tim threw his head back and groaned so loudly a giggly group of girls at the other table peered at him curiously. In a futile attempt to avoid any association to this scene, Jon scrunched his body to hide behind his (conveniently) bigger friends.

His escape attempt proved futile, however, when Tim threw an arm around Jon and tugged him closer. "We didn't invite you to drink with us just so you can sit there looking pretty, boss," he said.

"Wh—" Jon grunted affrontedly, brows furrowing. He rubbed his eye with the heel of his hand and tried to blink through his drowsy alcohol-induced haze. "I really don't—"

"I said, Keira Knightley is the very definition of hot," Tim drawled. "Don't you agree?"

Confusion crossed over Jon's features. "I suppose so."

"You suppose so?" Tim scoffed. "Alright, alright. Maybe she isn't your type. How about Tessa Thompson?"

Jon let out a non-committal noise as he pressed the rim of his glass against his lips. When no liquid hit his tongue, he blinked and looked into the cup.

Empty.

"Lucy Liu?"

Jon lifted his glass and looked around dazedly. "Does anyone—"

"What about Lucy Liu?"

"I really don't— My glass is empty?"

"Oh, sorry. Got distracted," Martin said, rubbing the back of his neck and slowly sliding out of his chair. "It's my round."

"I, well, yes, that'd be—"

Tim barged in with another question. "Okay, then, what about Anna Kendrick?"

"Not really."

"Not really?!" Tim yelled. "Alright, what about—"

"For god's sake, Tim, stop asking me these questions!" Jon groaned. "I'm too bloody ace for this."

Martin blinked at him, eyes owlishly wide with curiosity. "What do you mean?" he asked in a half-squat above his chair.

Jon's initially liquor-tinged face blanched. Suddenly it was show-and-tell in Year 2 all over again, eyes fixated upon him, as he struggled not to cry from stage fright. Except the topic today was far less innocuous than 'My Favourite Animal'. He ran a hand over his face.

Jon wished he could time-travel two hours back to throttle himself for accepting Sasha's invitation to drink. He should have gone home and taken a good long nap.

Unfortunately for him, he was stuck in this crap-hill of a situation. Jon gulped, looking everywhere but at his friends, as he tried to push Tim away. The silence was suffocating and he was pressured to fill it. "Fuck. I didn't mean to…"

Sasha leaned across the table. "Wait, you said you're ace? As in asexual?"

"I… uh, yes?" Jon shrunk into himself. "So what?" he hissed defensively.

Hands shooting up defensively, Sasha shook her head. "Oh, it's not like that! I'm also—"

Tim interrupted her with a whoop so loud that Jon had to yank himself out of his chokehold lest his eardrums burst. Martin had to leap off his chair and cover a hand over Tim's mouth to stop the hollering. Even then, he still did a whole lot of muffled yelling. "We're in public, Tim!" Martin chastised.

Tim tried to pull Martin's hand off, but to no avail.

"I'll take it off if you promise to stop yelling."

He rolled his eyes and nodded. As soon as Martin let go of Tim, however, he flashed the smuggest smirk and said, "So archiving is a gays-only event."

Martin let out a groan and Jon frowned in confusion. "What?"

"We honestly thought all this while you were homophobic," Tim said. "But turns out you're one of us."

Sasha raised her hand. "Disclaimer: I didn't think you were homophobic. Just uptight."

"But I..." Jon muttered, rubbing his eyes. "Wait, so you're all gay?"

"Alright, fellas," Sasha said, clapping her hands. "From the top! I'm aromantic heterosexual."

Tim dramatically placed a hand upon his chest. "And I'm the neighbourhood Bi-con!"

Nervously, Martin said, "Uh, no labels. But not straight."

Invitingly, Sasha gestured towards Jon.

He blinked. "Oh. Uh. Panromantic asexual. Um, and also nonbinary."

"Niiice," Tim said, patting his back hard. "I can't believe we took this long to figure this all out."

"I don't like assuming," Jon admitted.

"But I thought we were being incredibly obvious. Well, me and Martin were at least. We just thought you never mentioned because you were ignoring all of it on purpose."

Jon hummed. He had caught Tim flirting with a couple dudes who came to the archives before. Somehow, however, he had never registered those incidents properly and the idea that Tim wasn't straight had sailed past him entirely. He felt a bit stupid, thinking back right now.

He tried to recall an instance for Martin but drew absolutely nothing, however. "Was Martin very obvious?"

"Oh!" Sasha wheezed, grinning like a Cheshire cat. "Martin here is–" she slapped his back "— painfully obvious."

"Huh," Jon muttered. "I really never noticed."

"You really should," Tim said. "Oh, right. Isn't it your turn to buy us a round, Martin? Do you want to get some right now? While we talk to Jon."

The flush that overtook Martin's face made his freckles darken as he resolutely sat in his seat, beside himself with distraught.

"Alright, alright. Enough teasing," Sasha said to Tim. "Martin, I promise I will keep him in his place so just get us the round already."

After Martin's eyes darted from Sasha to Tim to Jon, then back to Sasha, he shot up from his seat with a huff. "I trust you, okay?" Then, he made a beeline for the bartender.

"Am I missing something?" Jon asked. "I feel like I am."

Sasha shook her head. "We're just all feeling pretty excited is all. It's not every day the notorious Jonathan Sims would come out to people."

"Notorious?" Jon wrinkled his nose. "From what I'm gathering, I'm not very welcome in this archival team. First, I'm homophobic and now notorious."

"Hey," Tim said, "you can't blame me for thinking you might be a homophobe. You don't exactly give off queer vibes."

"Aspec people like us don't really get much opportunity to be overtly queer," Sasha muttered, leaning back. "We're a low-lying bunch."

"Hey! But I could tell that you weren't straight. But Jon flew right under my gay-dar. And I'm usually really good at detecting comrades."

"Time to send that radar for repairs then," Jon replied with a smirk.

"You're not much better!"

"I never claimed to be good at detecting comrades."

Just then, Martin came back, and Jon was pleased to finally get more alcohol. With how much he'd been blabbing already, it felt like that kind of night.

After a while, Jon's head started spinning in what felt like cartwheels and somersaults. Drowsily, he placed his head on the regrettably grimy table. He watched the other three's back-and-forth for a while before suddenly stepping in. "Why no labels?" he asked Martin. "Just curious."

"Hm?" He straightened up. "Oh. Just… not too fond of being put into labels. None of the terms ever sit quite right with me for some reason."

"Fair enough," Jon muttered, voice thick with exhaustion. "I took ages before finding what felt right for me."

"How did you realise you were ace then?" Tim asked.

"Don't know. Just sort of always knew but didn't have a word for it. So when the word asexuality came along…" He waved his hand as though to say, "And the rest was history."

"Is it not liking sex?" Sasha asked. "I personally never really got what's so good about romance. I think it's just messy stuff if you ask me."

"Sex is… It's fine?" Jon winced. "I don't hold any strong opinions on the matter although I do sometimes find it quite fascinating."

"Jesus Christ. It's sex, Jon. Not some academic discussion," Tim scoffed.

He pouted.

"Then, how did you figure it out?" Martin asked.

"Oh. I, uh… It just felt like there was something everyone else seemed to have no trouble getting that I couldn't. Turns out that thing was sexual attraction." He shrugged. His eyelids were growing rather heavy. "I quite like being ace, you know that? I've never told that to anyone else," he slurred the admission.

"Are you tired, Jon?" Martin asked.

"Mhm."

"Do you want to take a nap?"

He nodded, rubbing his face against the wooden table. Sasha ran her fingers through his hair and he hummed, eyelids sliding shut.

Jon remembered how frustrated he used to be when he was younger. Curious and stubborn since he could remember, there was no way he would let this thing he couldn't understand simply slide under the rug. He remembered thinking he might be pansexual, but that didn't sit right in his chest. It took years of hunting down a proper answer and a couple more to acknowledge it.

Sometimes, Jon would mourn over the fact that he would never understand what on earth this "sexual attraction" thing was. Most of the time, however, he found himself quite comfortable in his own skin, finally able to categorise his experience. Now, asexuality was a label he embraced.

And it felt good knowing there were people close by who accepted him.

#tma #magpod #the magnus archives #asexual jonathan sims #aromantic sasha james #bisexual tim #tma fanfic #non binary jonathan sims #panromantic jonathan sims #my writing #not sure how else to tag hmmm

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neowinestainedress · 4 years

Text

drunk on you, now i’m wasted

There was no way Sicheng was wasting a second not admiring him when he was just so painfully beautiful like that. All spread out for her to fill him up completely. His cheeks flushed and wet, his lips plump and red, his hair stuck against his sweaty forehead. And it was so exciting for Sicheng to know that that was the same Jaehyun that easily fucked her against a wall mercilessly. Sicheng felt so good knowing she was the only one who could get him on his knees and make a mess out of him.

Or where it doesn't take much for Jaehyun to get drunk on Sicheng and feel wasted.

-warnings: smut; foursome; cock warming; pegging; dirty talk; slight verbal humiliation; praise kink; oral sex; orgasm delay/denial; multiple orgasms; sex toys; mommy kink; aftercare yes, Sicheng is a woman

The JohnJaeTeWin smut nobody asked for, but I’m sorry I love them and we need more sub-jaehyun.

ao3 link

"What are you thinking about?" Ten asked leaning closer to Sicheng from behind. His lips brushing timidly on her neck. "Just at how it's been a month since you bought me the new strap-on, and I still hadn't had the chance to use it." Sicheng replied with a sad expression on her face. Ten pouted. "Oh, poor baby. You want to top someone?" Ten was taunting, and Sicheng rolled her eyes, she didn't need this, not now when the only thought in her mind was Jaehyun at complete disposal for her to do anything with him. "I'm here if you want." He kept teasing, slowly unbuttoning his shirt with a smirk on his face.

"Ugh, you know what I want." And it was true, Ten knew it perfectly. Honestly, that was what he wanted too. It was strange how all of a sudden Ten and Sicheng started to be this close when at the start Ten couldn't even stand to hear her name. Three of them in a relationship weren't enough? And why the hell the fourth had to be a woman? He couldn't get it, to read: he was way to petty to act like a proper adult who knew that that could've happened since the first day he got into that type of relationship with two bisexual men. After three months of acting like a bitch, he started to get closer to Sicheng (mostly because Johnny and Jaehyun deprived him of sex) and found out that Sicheng was cool, cooler than he hoped she would be. And that they actually made a great duo. It took him two more months to get over the idea of vaginas as terrifying things and discover that playing with Sicheng was funny. So here they were now, being two bratty partners in crime who loved making Jaehyun and Johnny going crazy.

"Ask him." Ten said now sitting on her lap as his fingers were playing with her long wavy brown hair. "But...I'm shy." She whispered, her cheeks turned red. Ten laughed straight to her face. "I'm sorry, honey. But we both know that's a lie." He added after he saw her smile fall. "What if he doesn't want that?" She said seriously, Ten simply smiled at her and started to caress her face. It was kinda cute how Sicheng would worry so much about everything, even after a year together. Everything still felt new to her and she wasn't as brave as Ten at testing new unexplored territory with their boyfriends. In fact, Sicheng wanted to peg them for ages, it had always been stuck on her mind but she was too embarrassed -and scared of having them laugh at her face- to ask anything. It was thanks to Ten that Sicheng effectively got to do it just about four months before. Ten couldn't get it quite well, but he understood that he was shameless and knew the other boys longer than Sicheng did, so he also knew that they were pretty much down for everything as long as everyone involved was fine with it.

"You know he loves it, don't make me ask for it, again." He admonished. She sighed and then patted his thighs to make him stand up. "Fine, I will."

꧁꧂

Fun thing, Sicheng never asked. Three days had passed since their conversation, all mostly like Ten sending her glare to tell her to talk to Jaehyun and Sicheng mouthing 'later', followed by Ten rolling his eyes and Johnny watching them with a frown on his face not understanding what was going on between them. It was a late evening on Friday when Sicheng felt particularly brave and decided to -practically- do something and not only whine and cry on how much she needed to fuck someone. Nobody was home, Sicheng had finished her turn before so she had all the time by herself to get ready and put in action what she was fantasizing about. After eating something that was left in the fridge -hoping it wasn't something poisonous cooked by Ten, who then decided to keep it anyway just to get rid of someone of them- Sicheng took off her working clothes and took a swift shower. "Bitch, is you home?" Rolling her eyes at the sound of Ten entering the house, Sicheng peeked down the stairs and stuck her tongue out at him. "Why are you like this?" Sicheng then added puffing as she entered the kitchen. "No, why are -you- like this?" Ten asked cheeking her out from head to toe. Sicheng had nothing on but a towel who barely covered her slim and tall body -she was taller than him, and at the start that was one of the many of the other reasons why Ten hated her. "Want to impress someone? Maybe showering made you grown some guts and you finally decided to talk to him?" He smirked as he bit a mouthful of a toast he made in like one, two minutes? Sicheng doesn't know and honestly doesn't want to. "Oh, shut up and don't waste my time. I've got a surprise." Sicheng said turning around making her back sway as she left the room. "Wait, I wanna know. Sicheng -fuck." He said as a piece of bread got stuck in his throat while he was calling for Sicheng. "I'll kill her one day."

꧁꧂

"Honey, we're home." Johnny's low voice resounded around the house who seemed way too calm knowing the two subjects who were inside. As soon as Jaehyun and him glared at each other, questioning what was going on, a sound of heels on the floor made their head turn around. "Fuck." Jaehyun breathed out, his mind went blank as he immediately felt a shiver run down his spine. Sicheng was leaning against the handrail of the stairs. Her already long legs looked even longer in that black tight suit pants and the five-inch red decollete. But, damn, that wasn't the most breathtaking thing in front of their eyes. Her boobs were perfectly wrapped by the white blouse, so tight the bottoms could barely keep it together, and suspenders were placed at the side of her chest. A tie tightened around her neck finished the look as her long hair was raised in a ponytail. Sicheng looked so powerful like this. Sicheng was powerful. And Johnny and Jaehyun felt defenceless at that sight. Her body moved gracefully in the air as she made her way closer to the boys, and there, when a shy ray of moonlight hit her better, Jaehyun eyes got caught by something else. She was wearing a strap-on, it was clear by the prominence on her low waist. "Fuck." He cursed again, he was already getting hard. "You're keeping it quiet, now?" Sicheng asked, she was in front of him and he didn't even realize that. "You'll be screaming it louder later tonight." She whispered the last words in his ear, her hot breath hitting his neck causing him to bit his lips. He wanted to curse again, and again. It was always like that when Sicheng decided to switch, and to him, it was unbelievable how she could just be the best submissive person ever and then turn to be -this- dominant, sometimes even more than him. It drove him crazy, it fucked him up. And while he was lost in his thoughts, trying to gain back all the sanity Sicheng drained from his soul since they first met, he didn't see how Johnny was wiping away with kisses the beautifully wore red lipstick from her face. "You're so hot like this, babe." Johnny whispered pulling away, his big hands were cupped around Sicheng's ass. "I know, don't need to remind me." Yeah, also that, Sicheng could be very full of herself if she wanted to. "Hey, what have you done to him?" Again, way too immersed in admiring his partner's bodies he didn't see Ten coming down from upstairs and placing right in front of him, ready to mock him, as always. And, as expected, he was pointing at his already visible boner. "I'll get my revenge." He simply thought, but that was for later. Right now he was the target, and he knew that they wouldn't let him breathe -in any sense- that night. Not that he minded, but he had other things to think about, like trying not to lose his dignity when they didn't even start, yet, just because he was way too whipped for Sicheng. Check, failed. "Me? Nothing?" Sicheng answered with an angelic tone in her voice as she turned around facing both Ten and Jaehyun. The younger huffed and rolled his eyes, seriously? She had the audacity to say it wasn't her fault when she was just so breathtaking, sexy, beautiful and hot and fuck-maybe Jaehyun loved Sicheng a little too much. A slap followed his actions. "Hey!" He screamed. He knew exactly why she did that and it didn't even hurt much but learning from the best -Ten- putting on a scene always made things better. "I know what you're thinking, but it wasn't for that." Sicheng said slipping a hand through his light brown hair. "Aren't you a little bit too greedy, pup?" Jaehyun closed his eyes, a dumb smile on his face, he really wanted to make it disappear but his mind was already too far gone. He won't survive the night, he knows it damn well. He knows himself, and how much he likes all this shit. And he knows his partners would never lose the change to take him to the edge and make a mess out of him. "Look at you, you like it?" Sicheng smaller hands cupped his face and forced him to look at her in her eyes. "Just got home and you're already extremely hard. Baby boy wants to get fucked, doesn't he?" She whispered, her voice was always warm and somehow low, but in this situation, it was just so raspy and hot that sometimes Jaehyun felt like he could come by that only -and he probably really could, didn't try, yet. "Yes, please." His voice sounded like a cry, already desperate, and his cheeks and ears turned red as his brain suddenly realized that Johnny and Ten were also there, staring right at him. "Gettin shy?" Talk about the devil. Johnny's voice made his dick throb in his tight jeans, the moments when he and Johnny got to have fun together were rare, it was always three of them, all together or one of them with Ten and Sicheng, but rarely them two. That didn't stop them from loving each other and neither loving to have fun with each other. But he wasn't that used to have that kind of attention from him. "Not answering? That's kinda rude since you're asking us to fuck you." Johnny said again, this time more stern and dominant. A shiver run down Jaehyun's spine -and dick. "N-no, I...yes." He mumbled out the first words that came in his mind not knowing quite well what to say. Well, ten minutes into this and he was already brain dead. Good job, Jaehyun. "Stupid puppy." Sicheng said, and both Ten and Johnny laughed at him. His ears turned as red as Sicheng's lipstick if that was even possible but he seriously felt stupid at that moment. "Why don't you go upstairs and wait for us with your pretty ass up in the air?" Sicheng asked gently stroking his face, her thumb on his soft lips. She wanted to kiss him so bad.

Jaehyun simply nodded -not able to create a comprehensible phrase, and without any other words, he ran upstairs.

꧁꧂

Jaehyun didn't waste a moment to get rid of his clothes, he wanted to throw them on the floor and swiftly get ready on the bed but at the same time he didn't want to seem so desperate, he knew he would give them other reasons to make fun of him through the night and he had already started in the worst way, recovering now was a good option. After having piled his clothes on the desk he moved to the bed, his right cheek pressed against the pillow, staring at the door in anticipation, and ass up in the air, firstly because they told him to and secondly because the slight brush of his dick on the covers would've got him shaking. "Look at you." Sicheng voice made him open his eyes wide, the room was kinda dark as the only light came from the abatjour on the desk opposite to the bed. He couldn't see well, also due to the position he was. But he liked it, not knowing who was near him or what they were gonna do to him, okay, maybe he loved it since thinking about it made his cock throb another time. A hand placed around his ass cheek, it was smooth and small, he could tell it was Ten's. "Isn't he beautiful?" He said caressing him, and a smile painted Jaehyun face as pride rushed over him. "So soft and pale, it feels like I'm touching porcelain." He said moving closer to Jahyun's ring of nerves, teasing it lightly with his thumb. A soft moan escaped his lips. "So fragile, maybe I should stop touching or it will break." Ten said pulling away. "No." Jaehyun exclaimed, his voice breaking in his throat. Sicheng laughed, it was definitely her. "Baby, baby, you should be more patient." She said leaning closer to him, her hands were messing his hair and he wanted to move, seeking for more contact and affection. But he couldn't. "But I've been." He whispered, no he didn't, but he couldn't care less. It hadn't even been bad so there was no reason for not wanting more. A huff left Johnny's lips "You shouldn't lie." He warned slapping his ass. Jaehyun leapt. "Please..." Jaehyun cried out. "Please what, pup? Tell us what you want." She said, her fingers making her way to his mouth asking for permission to enter. He opened up. "Tou-touch me." Jaehyun hardly said trying to breathe. "How you want to be touched, pup?" Jaehyun moaned as Sicheng kept pushing her fingers inside his mouth, maybe he had a problem with his oral fixation. Yes, he surely had it. But that wouldn't be the biggest problem. "Ten, please." "I said how, not, who. Are you that stupid?" Sicheng said in a stern voice pulling her fingers out. "No, I-" Jaehyun tried to mumble out but his voice got stuck in his mouth when another slap ended on his ass. It was Sicheng this time. "You're not even good at listening, I don't think you deserve these attentions." She said rubbing the redder part of his body. "No, please, Sicheng." Her fingers tangled through his hair and she pulled strongly against herself causing his lower back to arch up. "What? Say it again, pup, if you dare." "Mommy, I'm sorry. I'm sorry." Jaehyun cried out tightening his eyes. Not able to keep eye contact with her. "Good boy." Sicheng said letting go the grip suddenly, causing his head to bob against the pillow. "Since you can't answer we'll decide, okay?" She said gesturing Ten to take care of him. Jaehyun simply nodded, at this point, everything was fine as long as they touched him. "You wanted me, right baby?" Ten said getting on the bed, Jaehyun could feel the movement of the mattress under him.

"Yes..." He said in a shaky voice, pushing his ass higher in the air, his back arched perfectly. He just wanted to be ruined, couldn't care much of anything else, not even how pathetic he looked.

"You're so fucking desperate." Ten said getting closer to him, his lower back making contact with Jaehyun's ass. "Now suck." He ordered putting two digits in his mouth, not so sweetly. And Jaehyun did. Closing his pinky lips around them and then swirling his tongue in his mouth. His eyelashes fluttered on his cheeks as he enjoyed the feeling.

"Fucking beautiful." Johnny whispered. He couldn't see him, but from his voice, he could tell he was beside the bed. "Stop. We got better things to do." Ten said pulling away. Jaehyun whined but the Thai boy didn't listen and moved his fingers down to his ass. "Want to suck something?" Johnny was now in front of Jaehyun, towering over him. His pants were gone, and the only thing covering his boner was his underwear. "You want something to stuff that pretty mouth of yours?" Jaehyun nodded trying to hold back the moans caused by Ten's attention down there and the things Johnny was saying. "Can you keep daddy's dick warm while Ten eats you out?" He asked caressing his cheeks and Jaehyun nodded, a shy smile on his face. "Really? Sicheng do you think he can?" He asked mockingly.

"No, that pretty mouth is too small for your cock, isn't it, pup?"

"No, I'm good, daddy. I can take, I- fuck." He mumbled out, he felt dizzy. Trying to keep attention at the two of them felt impossible when Ten was working him open, his fingers entering him slowly and brushing his most sensitive spots.

"I'll be a good boy and keep your cock warm." He finished holding back moans. Without adding another word, Johnny got on the bed, sitting with his legs open on the pillow beneath Jaehyun's head. And so Jaehyun did it. Resting his cheeks on Johnny's thigh he tried to take in his mouth as much of Johnny's dick he could. But fuck, Johnny was so big, and he wasn't the one sucking cocks usually. He wanted to do it, though, he promised Johnny and for personal pride -he had to -and he also just wanted something to suck.

"Good boy, just like that." Johnny whispered running his fingers through his hair to make him relax as he felt his dick rest on Jaehyun's tongue.

"Fuck, you're so tight." This time Ten was talking, his three fingers were buried deep inside Jaehyun and he could perfectly feel how tight he was as he clenched around him.

"But you're so...pretty like that." Ten emphasised the word 'pretty', he knew Jaehyun loved to be called that and it worked since a soft moan left his lips -well, what could be heard of that since the position he was. "So pink and hot for me, for us." He kept praising him leaning closer with his mouth. Jahyun whimpered when Ten's tongue licked his entrance and swirled around, his dick was leaking pre-cum and he already felt so close. A muffled 'fuck' left his mouth, as he tried to steady his breath through his nose, it was harder than he expected. Johnny's big cock blocked all the air from the mouth and sucking sent him into other space, which made it hard for him to focus on something that was actually pretty important -breathing. And the amazing oral sex Ten was giving him wasn't helping. "A beautiful peach." Sicheng said. Jaehyun couldn't see her, she was probably looking at him from behind, enjoying the best view Jaehyun offered. His cheeks turned red at the thought, he could kinda feel Sicheng's burning gaze on his skin, and that was so hot. Sicheng eyes were so beautiful and intense, so much that sometimes it felt impossible for him to look at her. And fuck, he just hated how powerful she was over him because even now, that he had Johnny and Ten taking care of him, the thing that turned him on the most was Sicheng looking at him, seeing how good he was being, how beautiful he was just for them, for her. And all of that put together was just too much for him, he couldn't take it anymore. Not letting go of Johnny's dick he muffled a shy 'please' as tears were streaming down his face and a groan left the oldest's mouth. "Please what?" Sicheng asked. "Wanna com-ah." Johnny pulled him away, the vibrations he sent were too much, Jahyun wasn't truly sucking him, but the warmth of his mouth and the random sucking were enough to drive him crazy.

"Hold on a little bit more, Ten will let you come, right baby?" Ten whispered a 'yes' against his sensible ring of nerves and Jaehyun dick throbbed. With his mouth now free he could let out all the moans he had to suppress before. Ten was just so fucking good he could see stars. "I don't think his pretty little hole is ready to take mommy's big cock." Sicheng said sitting on the other side of the bed. Jaehyun's head snapped up, his eyes now open were looking straight at hers. "No, I am. I will take you so good, mommy." He cried out in a soft breathy voice. But then, without a warning, Ten spat on his asshole and pushed four fingers inside. "Fuck." Jaehyun screamed closing his eyes, his head fell back on Johny's tight and then he felt his hands in his hair, massaging his scalp. Ten started to fuck him mercilessly, pumping hard inside out causing tears to roll down his pretty flushed cheeks. And damn, Jaehyun was so hot like that. Ten wanted so bad to fuck him, it was such a waste to a have a masterpiece like this in front of him and not being able to come, but he knew that somebody else was in line for that and, to be honest, seeing Sicheng fuck him was way hotter than him fucking Jaehyun. "Ten, please..." Jaehyun barely spat out, his moans getting in the way, his orgasm building up in his stomach -again. But this time he wouldn't have been able to stop it. And he didn't, when Ten touched his prostate, again and again, he lost it, coming all over the sheets beneath him, a particularly long low moan left his mouth as his chest panted heavily, still shaking from the pleasure. Silence filled the room as Ten pulled out, just an almost silent curse could be heard when Ten gasped seeing Jaehyun's hole gape, clenching into nothing. "Oh, what do we have to do with you." Sicheng said, her hands grabbed his waist making him turn around, now his back was laying flat against the mattress, and fuck, Sicheng's breath got stuck in her throat because Jaehyun was just way too beautiful like this. His face all flushed red, cheeks wet for the tears and lips red and swollen. A work of art, the most beautiful one Sicheng ever seen. His eyelashes fluttered and she felt her heart skip a bit, Sicheng couldn't believe he was her baby. When did she get so lucky? "You look so wasted already, do you think my puppy can take more?" As much as she wanted to praise him out loud she knew she couldn't loosen the grip. "Yes, please mommy, I need you." He whispered. "Wasn't Ten enough?" She teased getting up from the bed, just to get rid of her pants and heels. Like this Jaehyun could see better the outlines of the strap-on hidden behind her red laced culotte. A moan left his mouth as his dick was starting to get hard again. "She asked you something." Johnny said bringing him back to reality. "Yes, I mean no, I-" Again, he couldn't get nothing that made sense out of his brain. "I think Ten was more than enough." She said leaving Jaehyun speechless. Rationally, he knew that Sicheng wouldn't have got away with that only but right now his rationality wasn't there -actually, it abandoned him at the start of the night. So shy huffs came from him as he moved on the bed, trying to adjust himself, whine and grab attention. "You came without permission, I thought you said you were going to be a good boy." Sicheng said, leaning now closer to Ten who was sitting at the edge of the other side of the bed. "Maybe he could show you how to be a good boy." A grin grew on Ten's face as Jaehyun felt his anger and jealousy rush in his vein. Bingo. Sicheng thought. Putting Ten and Jaehyun, two of the most competitive people she knew, against each other? While they were both cravings for praises and dick? A hell of a ride. Johnny smiled at her, knowing well that from now on it would've been even funnier. Ten couldn't complain, that night his dominant role had lasted more than enough, he liked it, surely, but nothing was better than having all the attention on him and being praised for his body and the things he could do. And showing off how to be the best baby boy he could? Damn, he was totally there for it. Jaehyun, instead, wanted to complain, a lot. He hated competition -being honest, he hated competition when he knew he couldn't win. And with Ten he couldn't, as much as he wanted to, as much as he tried. He simply didn't have the stamina the older had. There was no way he could be better. But he hated losing, he wanted to be praised, to ear from Sicheng that he was good, that he was her good beautiful boy. He wanted to show off how good he was -because he was. Maybe not as Ten, but he was. And he was beautiful, he knew that. He just needed to hear them say it. He wanted to complain out loud but Ten was faster than him and with a swift move he found himself on Johnny's lap. Jaehyun rolled his eyes, Sicheng saw it from her peripherical view but let it go. He couldn't believe him, he was pulling the 'watch how I take him in one go' card just to brag about how it seemed he was made for Johnny's dick. "Come here." Sicheng patted the space in front of her, she was sitting cross-legged at the opposite side of them, she could see them perfectly, but Sicheng wanted Jaehyun to see them. "Good, on your knees now." Sicheng demanded. "Eyes focused on them." She then whispered in his ear, turning his face directly at their boyfriends. Johnny was fingering Ten as the younger was grinding against him. Hot. But Jaehyun couldn't enjoy it completely. He just wanted one thing, but he knew that to get it he had to listen, and so he did. Getting on his knees he kept his attention on the boys. Sicheng left for a brief moment, he wanted to turn around, to check that she didn't leave him all alone, but he couldn't. Coming back behind him, Jaehyun could feel the texture of a rope closing around his wrists. "Fuck." He cried out, his dick getting now completely hard due to the sight in front of him and the sensation of the rope that was being tightened around his hands. "Now stay still and enjoy the show." Sicheng whispered in his ear. He nodded but he felt like he wanted to cry when she sat closer to the two and not next to him. Mind reminder for himself: hug Sicheng for a whole day as a revenge for this contact deprivation. All the softness fell apart when suddenly Ten aligned Johnny's dick to his entrance and took him in one go. Ten softer moans mixed with Johnny's deep groans, as the younger went down completely. And fuck, that was just so hot. Jaehyun couldn't take his eyes away from the space were his boyfriends were united. They fitted so perfectly, they were made for each other, and as much he thought that maybe Ten liked to brag a little too much, he simply thought it was amazing how well he could take Johnny so easily. "God, Ten, you're so good." As Johnny said that, Jaehyun's dick throbbed. His low, raspy voice was so sexy. But Johnny himself sent him to heaven. The way his black hair was now a mess with few strands falling on his face, or how his lashes fell beautifully on his cheeks as he enjoyed the feeling of Ten riding him. Or how his muscles tensed making him look even hotter. A breathy moan left his lips as he let his head fall back, just how much he wanted to be Ten right now. "Like what you see?" The oldest in the room asked teasingly looking at him for a moment. Jaehyun nodded, not able to do anything else. "Could have been you, but you don't know how to behave." He finished with a smirk on his face, that soon after was also painted on Ten's face, that little bitch and his super-ego. A groan left Jaehyun's mouth and then he huffed. He had been good, they just liked to make him go crazy. "Daddy, fuck, you're so big." Ten brought all of the attention back on him, as his hips kept moving up and down, creating lewd noises as their skin clapped against each other. "But you're so good for me, baby. Look at how well you take me." Johnny praised him and a stupid smile plastered on his face. Jaehyun wanted to cry, maybe scream, do anything to gain a little attention from them but he knew that he would've worsened the situation, so he tried to keep quiet, ignore the almost painful boner he had between his legs and wished for them to finish faster. Or at least for Sicheng to have some mercy and maybe take care of him, just a little, he wasn't asking for much. But nothing, Sicheng eyes were fixed on their boyfriends' bodies, paying more attention at her he noticed how one hand was playing with herself down between her legs and another moan escaped his mouth. Sicheng turned to him and caught him staring. A devilish smile crept on her face. "Bet you want to be the one touching me, am I right?" Jaehyun nodded energetically, he knew that by now Sicheng was dripping wet, there was no way she hadn't been affected by all of this and he just wanted to eat her out like she deserved. He was hoping for something to change but no, they weren't done teasing. Johnny's hands swiftly reached for her body, unbuttoning the blouse. Sicheg's boobs sprang free as soon as the top was off and fuck, they were so beautiful. They weren't particularly big, more like medium but they were so full and soft. Johnny wasted no time sucking the right nipple and then slightly pulling away holding it between his teeth. Sicheng's head rolled back as a soft moan left her mouth. Her hands tangled around Johnny's hair as he kept working on her. And Jaehyun felt so close again because the sight in front of him was too much to take. Ten bouncing on Johnny's cock, with his eyes closed and his lips parted letting free the most beautiful moans ever. Johnny trying to meet him midway while he also stayed focused on Sicheng while her red lips were being bitten to quite down the messy sounds she was doing. And then him, tightened and in a corner, hard as hell as he just wanted to touch them or being touched by them. "You're so hot, fuck." He breathed out, trying desperately to remind them he was there too -they knew it perfectly, and it was even more frustrating. "You too, baby." Sicheng moaned, but his pride had no time to build up that got destroyed again "All hot and bothered waiting patiently for us, looking like the most desperate puppy needing for attention." "Yes, I am. Please, please." He cried out nervously moving on the bed, he was desperate, he knew that. For them? He would've never stopped being it. "Later." Sicheng tone got deeper, almost as if she disconnected from her state of mind absorbed in Johnny's touch, Jaehyun gulped and lowered his head. Later. "I'm so close, god-" Ten said in a breathy voice. His eyes were now open, staring at the view in front of him. Johnny pulled away from Sicheng making a sad sigh escape from her mouth. "Come with me, baby." Johnny's deep voice was the last thing Ten needed to get off completely, with one last strong movement of their hips meeting midway they both came, Ten all over Johnny's torso and the older inside of him. Still riding their orgasms, their chest panted quickly, their forehead rested on each other, as their lips crushed together in sloppy and messy kisses. Jaehyun sighed, he just wanted to be kissed too. Fortunately, this time, his wish was granted pretty soon. Sicheng turned around and crawled to him, her hands rubbing his thighs. His fogged eyes were staring right into hers, silently begging for more. Rising her upper body, Sicheng made their lips collide for the first time that night and Jaehyun felt like flying. It had been waiting all night just for that. It started slowly, almost painfully, but soon enough it turned messier and rougher. Jaehyun moaned in the kiss, Sicheng plump and soft lips sent him straight to heaven. Her hands were roaming on his body, making him crave for more, he just wanted to touch her too, to kiss every inch of Sicheng's perfect skin, but the rope kept him from doing it. He whined. "You've been so good, pup." Sicheng breathed out in the middle of one of their kisses and Jaehyun smiled. "Tell me what you want." "You." He breathed out, his voice shaking. He should've elaborate better but right now, that was the most sincere thing he could say. He had been waiting all night for Sicheng to touch him, kiss him, ruin him. He couldn't care, he just wanted to become a mess under her hands. And Sicheng didn't complain, not asking for more explanation. The teasing has lasted long enough, and by this point, not even she could take it anymore. So Sicheng moved her hands to free him from the rope and then gestured him to lay on the bed. "Look at your hard thick cock, isn't it a waste not to use it?" Sicheng asked starting to pump up and down. "No, I want you- fuck." Jaehyun shook his head fastly. "But your pretty dick is so big, it fills me up so good. I could ride you." Sicheng said brushing her thumb on the slit on the head. Jaehyun rolled his eyes from the pleasure he was receiving and bit his lips trying to find the words to say. "No, please, mommy. Fuck me, ah." His voice trembled from the stimulation she was giving him. "Are you sure you want that? Leaving your dick laying there?" "Yes, please mommy fuck me 'till I can't breathe." He said desperately, and that was everything Sicheng needed to get free from her panties and align her strap-on at his entrance. Ten had fingered him before but Jaehyun wasn't so used at this, so she took anyway a little bit of time to finger him. "I'm ready, I can take it, plea-" His begs died in his throat when Sicheng entered him decisively, not giving him time to finish. She pulled his legs around her waist and sunk down completely, the tip of the dildo touching his sensitive spot. "Fuck, see, you're as good as Ten." Sicheng praised and Jaehyun heart skipped a beat, a smile appeared on his face as he heard Ten huff at the side of the bed, followed by a slap on his ass by Johnny and an "ouch". But right now he couldn't think of Ten's show, he had Sicheng right where he wanted and that was all that mattered. Sicheng started moving slowly, her hips going inside out, rotating too. She was so good at it, knowing exactly how to move and the right angulation that drove him crazy. "It feels so good." Jaehyun said keeping his eyes closed. "God! Fuck-" Jaehyun gasped. Lost in his pleasure, Jaehyun didn't hear the sound of something vibrating, so when the vibrator made contact with his sensitive head he couldn't help but be surprised.

"Wher-" "Shh, will you be a good boy for mommy?" Sicheng hushed him down, placing her hand around his neck, choking him slightly. Jaehyun simply nodded, not being able to do anything else. "Like this, you're so hot and wet for me, baby." She said thrusting hard inside of him as the other hand held the vibrator still on his throbbing dick. "Mommy, please. It's too much." Jaehyun mumbled out, tears were rolling down his face as he could feel another orgasm build up in his stomach, his visions get blurry and his muscles trembling. He had only come once properly but for the whole night he kept on killing more oncoming orgasms, and Sicheng was just too hot for him, with her long hair falling in her face as the tail loosened, and her boobs bouncing up and down. "We just started, you don't want this do end yet." Sicheng managed to say through her moans, the vibrations sent by the dildo inside of her and Jaehyun in front of her were starting to make her lose points. She let go of her hold on his neck just to leave kisses there and bite makrs. "But mommy." Jaehyun cried out, suddenly he felt two pair of lips on his, completely dizzy it took some seconds to understand it was Ten.

"You're such a good boy, peach." Ten whispered close to him, running his fingers through his hair, trying to calm him down. "I'm not." Jaehyun mumbled out closing his legs around Sicheng's waist. He just wished he was as good as Ten at holding on and controlling his orgasms but he wasn't, not when he was deep in his sub-space.

"Yes, you are." The Chinese girl said, removing the vibrator from his sensitive spot. She leaned down reaching for his lips, trying to comfort him.

"Are you with me?" Sicheng asked, stopping for a moment since Jaehyun appeared spaced out.

"Y-yes, go on, please. Ruin me." Jaehyun said looking at Sicheng in the eyes. They kissed another time, sloppily and roughly. Then Sicheng started where she stopped. Grabbing Jaehyun waist she raised him a little, making him tightening his hold around her, this way she could get a lot deeper. Jaehyun was feeling every inch.

"Mommy fucks you so good." Ten said while playing with Jaehyun's left nipple.

"And you look so, so pretty, Jae." The older started kissing him slowly, pushing his moans back in his throat. Jaehyun tiredly tried to kiss him back but he felt like he couldn't command his body anymore, he felt like he had left his soul in Sicheng's hands and trusted her with it.

"Your pink little hole is so tight, baby." Sicheng let out a raspy moan as she threw her head back, just to get back to the main subject of the night. Jaehyun. There was no way Sicheng was wasting a second not admiring him when he was just so painfully beautiful like that. All spread out for her to fill him up completely. His cheeks flushed and wet, his lips plump and red, his hair stuck against his sweaty forehead. And it was so exciting for Sicheng to know that that was the same Jaehyun that easily fucked her against a wall mercilessly. Sicheng felt so good knowing she was the only one who could get him on his knees and make a mess out of him.

"You are a masterpiece completely ruined." She breathed out.

"Fuck, look at your teary eyes still begging for more, it's never enough for you, right?" Jaehyun nodded and let out an airy 'yes'. His hands were frenetically trying to grab onto something and the closest thing he found was Johnny's hand.

"Mommy, harder please." He begged, trying to meet her in the middle. The vibrator was put aside, throw somewhere behind them so that Sicheng could completely focus on him and her movements.

"Yes, like that." He mewled as Sicheng brushed against his prostate.

"Oh, pretty boy, you were made for mommy's cock, weren't you?" Sicheng started praising him, she knew he loved it and well, he deserved it.

"You're being so good for us."

Jaehyun dumbly smiled through his whines and Ten's kisses.

"You're so hot that Ten and I are hard again." Johnny said, his voice was low as it was usually when he was about to come and, sliding out of his deepest subspace for a moment, Jaehyun could hear the sound of him jerking off.

"Daddy," He rolled his eyes as a particularly deep and hard thrust hit him "please, on -on my face."

"Are you sure?" Johnny asked moving closer to his face as he held his dick in his hands.

"Yes, please, give it to me." He urged looking at him with doe eyes, his wet long eyelashes fluttering.

"Jesus," Johnny groaned at the sight gripping tightly the base of his cock "If that's what you want."

"You're such a slut." Sicheng said slapping lightly his cheek making his head turn to the side. Then Johnny spurted out, covering his face in white. Jaehyun opened his mouth wide, trying to grab a taste of the white substance coming out from his boyfriend.

"God, you're so greedy, babe." Ten mocked him as he collected some of Johnny's cum just to push it down Jaehyun's mouth, making him swallow. "Bet you would take the both of 'em at the same time." He pinched his nipple and Jaehyun simply nodded, it was getting too much. Sicheng moaned higher as she pictured him being fucked by the two of them. If she could barely take this view how was she going to survive that?

"Would you?" Ten asked with a stern voice, demanding attentions Jaehyun wasn't really able of giving him.

"Y-yes." He stuttered, the thought turned him on even more, being fucked by Johnny and Sicheng at the same time, all the marks and bruises to remind him nobody else could see him like this, or how full he would be. His dick throbbed. "Thinking about it, peach?" Ten asked not so sweetly as he licked a bit of Johnny's cum from his lips. "Yeah." Jaehyun sobbed. "But you're hole so little, you could never. I could." He teased and Jaehyun mumbled a 'no' in response shaking his head. Then everything disappeared, he felt a knot in his stomach and his thighs started shaking. "I'm close, I'm-" "Let it go, puppy. Come with me, fuck." Sicheng said leaning closer to him, her orgasm was there too, her thrusts were now a mess, as she tried to ride both of their pleasures. And he let go, holding on her tiny waist and throwing his head back he came all over his chest with a loud cry. His walls clenched around the plastic and it was a shame that Sicheng couldn't really feel it, but seeing his hole thighing was enough for her to get off. "Baby, fuck." She screamed as her orgasm hit her slightly after Jaehyun's. Sicheng fell on top of Jaehyun, not really minding all the cum that covered him. They would've thought about it later, even tomorrow. Then she pulled out slowly and rolled to the side, falling behind him. Jaehyun's eyes were closed as he tried to come back on heart, getting out of his subspace.

꧁꧂

"It was so intense." He breathed out, his chest was still moving erratically. "Yes, it was." Sicheng smiled pulling out of her the double end strap-on.

"You did so well." Ten praised climbing on top of him leaving few kisses here and there. "And we also did a mess." Johnny said coming back inside the room with two wet towels, he soon started to clean Jaehyun up, they would've thought about the rest tomorrow.

"It was worthy, I guess." Sicheng said propping on her elbows to look at her oldest boyfriend.

"You were so good, baby." Sicheng then whispered turning her attention at Jaehyun as she caressed his hair out of his face. "You look so sweet like this, you know. Sweet and deadly." She susurrated staring at his parted lips. Jaehyun was beautiful like a poisonous flower, so enchanting it attracted everybody close just to eat them up completely. Sicheng remembers when they first met, and how intimidating he seemed, walking around like a God -she is still convinced he is- and how she thought it was impossible getting close to him. It seemed like a joke that now she was the one who made him weak and how intimate they got, knowing each other so deeply to the point the shared their most fragile parts.

"Please, I want cuddles." Jaehyun begged in a soft voice bringing her back to reality. "Can we do it all together?" He pouted.

"Of course, babe." Sicheng answered. And so they were laying in their king-size bed, Johnny and Ten at the extreme while Sicheng and Jaehyun were in the middle. Jaehyun held on Sicheng's body like a koala, resting his face on her boob, and Ten hugged him from behind, his mouth against his neck. Meanwhile, Johnny was hugging Sicheng as he stretched his arm out to hug them all.

"You know I love you all so much." Jaehyun muttered after some minutes of silence where they simply enjoyed each other presence.

"Of course, we love you too." Johnny said smiling fondly.

"Really, you are the best things that ever been mine and life could give me. I don't know what I would be without you." He said in a more serious voice.

"Fuck, Jae. It's not the right time to make me cry." Ten said sniffing through his nose.

"I'm sorry, I changed my mind, you're the only one I don't love." Jaehyun said ironically but Ten, being the drama queen he is, gasped and pulled away from the boy. They all laughed, except Ten of course. But Ten sad face was soon enough swept away by Jaehyun's kisses on his lips, causing Ten to smile through them and giggle lightly.

"I think we're all really glad we got each other. It's family, right?" Sicheng said as she leaned her head on Johnny's chest and caressed Jaehyun and Ten hair.

"Family." They answered as one.

As darkness surrounded them and silence fall between them, sleep started to wash over them. But all of a sudden Johnny talked.

"So, the bet for the double is still open?" Johnny asked giggling.

"Oh, shut up. Let me breathe." Jaehyun cursed under his teeth as he rolled his eyes causing everyone to laugh.

But deep down they all knew that, sooner or later, it will happen because now that Ten put it in everyone's mind there was no way they would've stopped thinking about it. Especially Jaehyun.

#nct smut #nct 127 smut #polyamory nct #JohnJaeTeWin smut #sub jaehyun #dom sicheng #dom johnny #sub ten #female sicheng

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