~*~

“So tell me Kohta, what is it that gave you the inspiration for this song? You don’t write many songs for Pierrot it seems.”

“Well, there was just such an intense energy coming from the fans at our tour finale, I wanted something to show my appreciation. It may not be all that good, but…”

“Oh, how could you say that? As usual, your work is brilliant. Much like your brother’s. Would you say talent runs in the family?”

“Of course, but my brother definitely has more than me.”

“Is that so? I would think you share a lot of the same attributes.”

“…..I’m sorry, I don’t get what you mean.”

“I meant surely he shares everything with you. Looks, talent, partners. I hear he likes to share, haven’t you?”

“Excuse me, what?”

“Like your guitarist. I hear he let you fuck him. Is that true? I bet that would have made for a memorable tour finale.”

“What---”

“Do you always take your brother’s hand-me-downs? Or was it more brothers that work together, play together?”

“No! Shut---”

“Or do you really just plan to take him from him? You know, like sibling rivalry?”

“I said---

---- shut up!!!” I yell at my ceiling, eyes flying open, again. It was the same thing, this time with a reporter throwing it in my face.

I closed my eyes and rolled over.

My days had been spent in a dark mess, my eyes half open and gazing at the ceiling most of the time. An empty carton of milk lay next to my bed, a couple of feet from where I’d thrown my keitai. The phone rang so many times I stopped being able to tell whether I was dreaming it or it really happened, so I’d flung it across the room in attempts to make it stop. A bottle of pain killers I’d been prescribed when I pulled a muscle teetered on the edge of my bedside dresser, empty. They’d been the first thing to go, even if I wasn’t big into drugs. Next, I’d eventually drank all the liquor in the house. And when being delirious from the pills wore off, and the drunken stupor had faded into headaches, I found myself laying on my bed, stomach empty as I drifted in and out of sleep. I hadn’t managed to eat anything besides a bag of chips, and even that was slow going. My hands were cut from something, but I couldn’t remember what. Later I’d find one of my bass guitars bashed up and a pretty bad dent in the door. I didn’t know what day of the week it was.

I didn’t care.

I probably reeked and had stubble that could cut glass, but I couldn’t give a flying fuck. My life was over with, I was pretty sure of it. I’d imagined all that shit back then that the gods hated me for Eiko’s miscarriage, and now I had no doubts about it. My fabulous life as a rock star had come crashing about my head. Pierrot was going to fall apart now. Takeo would go after Kirito, Aiji would go after Takeo, and Jun would shrivel up in a corner and die from anxiety. But I guess it was only fitting that I drag everyone down with me because of my stupid mistakes. That and now my home phone wouldn’t stop ringing either. I thrust out an arm and waved it about, shoving the receiver onto the floor with a clatter. I had no idea where I’d put the actual phone.

“Wednesday, 10:35 am -- Hey Kohta, this is Takeo. Are you sick? Lemme know why you’re not at practice. *beep*”

Oh shit, it landed on the message button. The gods wanted me to suffer.

“Wednesday, 6:32 pm -- Hey Kohta, it’s Takeo again. Are you gonna call me back? I need to know what to tell everyone tomorrow.*beep*”

“Wednesday, 9:16 pm -- Kohta, your brother says he doesn’t know what happened to you. Are you there? Seriously man, pick up. This isn’t funny. *beep*”

“Thursday, 10:02 am -- Hey, Kohta? This is Jun. Are you mad at Takeo? Where are you? Nothing’s getting done because Aiji and Takeo are fighting. Please call me. *beep*”

“Thursday, 12:24 pm -- Kohta? It’s Jun again. I’m worried. Will you at lease call your brother? I came over but no one answered. Are you alright? Should I call the police? Please call me, okay? *beep*”

“Thursday, 5:47 pm -- Kohta, what the fuck is going on. Kirito’s a loose canon and Aiji keeps taking his side. I can’t work with this shit. If I’ve told him once, I’ve told him a million times, I can’t play that drum solo unless I get a guitar riff. It sounds fucking awful. Are you okay? Please call me man, I’m worried. *beep*”

“Thursday, 7:58 pm -- Why aren’t you at practice? Are you fighting with someone? I know you must be there, your car is there and your neighbor, the old one, says she hasn’t seen you leave. I think she watches you or something. Please pick up, please? Takeo and Aiji are fighting and it’s starting to scare me. Kirito called off practice tomorrow. Please call me, or at least answer the door! *beep*”

“Friday, 11:06 am -- Murata-san? This is your manager. Your band mates are worried about you. If something has come up, and you need to take a break, please inform us. I would be more than happy to a lot a short amount of vacation time. But without hearing from you, I can’t know what to do. Please call me when you can. *beep*”

“Friday, 4:35 pm -- ……Kohta? This is Aiji.”

My eyes opened.

“Listen, Kirito told me about everything. He’s sorry you two fought, and he’s really afraid you’re not going to talk to him again.”

That we fought?

“I know he can be hard to talk to at times, but he really wants to make up. The band is suffering and he’s sorry he caused this mess. Will you at least talk to me? Please call me. *beep*”

I sat up a bit. One of them was lying. Was Aiji now as bad as my brother?

“Friday, 5:47 pm – It’s me again…..Everyone says you aren’t picking up your keitai, so I gave up calling. Listen, I’m going to come over in awhile. I hear you aren’t answering your door either. Will you please answer it for me? I’m really worried about what happened, and I want to see you. Please answer the door for me, Kohta. *beep*”

My eyes darted to the clock on the wall.

“End of messages. *beep*”

6:05 pm.

If he drove, traffic would make it a little less than an hour. If he caught the train, he could be here in 30 minutes or later, depending on if he could fit on the first train at this hour.

…….He would be here soon.

For some reason, the thought made my heart race. All of a sudden I was aware of how hideous I must look, and smell for that matter. I immediately thought of jumping in the shower. I’d already swung my legs out of bed, feet planted on the cold wooden floor beneath.

But what did I care? I thought to myself, inwardly sneering at my reaction to cover my alarm. So what if he was coming over? I didn’t have to answer the door. I didn’t have to welcome more of Kirito’s lies into my own home, because I knew that’s all he had to offer.

That’s right, I told myself, heartbeat finally slowing back to normal. I’m not ready to face Aiji yet after what I did to him. I’m not ready to face anyone. I don’t have any answers; I don’t have any defense. If I opened the door to him, I would probably just cry in shame. I’m better off leaving him at the door and going back to sleep.

I wanted to leave it at that, and I spent a good ten minutes rationalizing why I didn’t need to have human contact with anyone at that point. The responsible side of me knew though, despite being steeped in depression and self-loathing, that it was my duty to talk to someone, at some point. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake knowing that I had people who depended on me. That I had people I was making look bad. And that tugging at my brain made me hate myself even worse.

I’d have to face Aiji at some point. Wouldn’t it be better for everyone if I fell apart here, rather than in public? The thought of crying at practice made me sick. It felt, with my upbringing, that that would be even more reprehensible than Kirito’s sex stunt. Takeo would probably spit on me and my brother, I’m sure, would laugh. I had to talk to someone soon to make up for my behavior or else I became selfish, and that was the last thing I wanted to be labeled as.

My back straightened as I stood, muscles both sore and tight from laying in the bed for such an unnatural amount of time. I would shower, change clothes, and face Aiji when he came. I’d try and forget everything that happened, and go along with whatever story Kirito has made up for everyone. After all, I didn’t have much of a choice. If I didn’t shove everything into the back of my head, I couldn’t function like I was expected to. Lying here for a week straight – what sort of grown man acted like that? Again, I was utterly disgusted with myself. I’d gotten into this mess following my own desires, and here I was doing it all over again. I really was still that fucked-up delinquent kid from the middle of nowhere, causing trouble and grief wherever I went.

My jaw clenched.

I was letting everyone down. Jun and Takeo didn’t deserve to suffer for my mistakes. Our staff had families they needed to feed as well. Aiji probably had no idea what had happened, and it would be just like it always was between us. I would talk to him, and he would be the understanding friend he always had been.

But I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror for a long time.

~*~

My hand was shaking when I reached for the doorknob, and I had to hold onto it for a moment before I could actually turn it. For a split second I had the irrational fear that he had brought Kirito with him, but I realized I was just panicking. I could feel the sweat clinging to my neck despite being fresh from the shower. My stomach began to turn as it had that one night, a lump settling uncomfortably in my throat in response.

Closing my eyes and throwing a prayer out to anything that wanted to protect me still, I opened the door.

Aiji stood there, soaked.

I look behind him and see that it’s pouring rain and I haven’t noticed all this time.

He smiles, weakly.

“I didn’t expect the rain,” he says in a joking tone, his voice the usual mixture of low and nasally at the same time. Aiji wasn’t the type to “borrow” an umbrella from a random rack like everyone else did.

For some reason, I laughed pretty loud. Maybe because I was nervous, although I didn’t feel anywhere near as uneasy as I thought I would. I still couldn’t bring myself to speak, instead moving out the way and motioning for him to step inside.

“I don’t want to get anything wet….”

He pushes a strand of wet hair behind his ear and I stare at him, wondering what it is I’m feeling right now.

“……Oh, let me get a towel.”

My voice is raw from the lack of speaking and all the cigarettes I’ve inhaled over the past few days. I have to cough a bit after I say that. Aiji just smiles at me again, patiently waiting in the genkan.

I run off to the bathroom to find a towel, closing all the doors I can on the way so that he can’t see how much of a mess this place has become. When I come back it seems I’ve found the nerve to speak, handing him the towel gingerly.

“Thanks for coming over. I haven’t been myself lately.”

Ironically I can’t take my eyes away from the site of him drying his body off, especially when he wipes the water from around his neck. I can see his still has bruises there; whether they are mine or not I try not to think about.

“It’s okay. You have a right to be angry.”

I look away from him then. I would fast forget what having the right to be anything felt like. Aiji had forgotten a long time ago.

“Where should I put this?” he asks, holding the now-damp towel out. I murmur something and take it from him, walking to the kitchen and placing it next to the sink. I would notice later how little sense that action made, but at that point the feelings seeing those marks on his neck had brought up were both confusing and consuming me.

When I came back, he had moved to the couch, sitting to one side with his hands in his lap. He looks very boyish like this, especially with the loose overalls he’s wearing and the small zip-up shirt beneath. I didn’t know anyone who could get away with wearing the same things Aiji did and not look ridiculous, but somehow it always suited him.

“Do you want something to drink?” I ask compulsively. “Tea?”

He shakes his head. The purple dye looks almost black when wet.

With no other options left, I sit down on the opposite side of the couch.

“Kohta……,” he begins, staring at the floor, “I want to thank you for seeing me.”

I try and think of a response, but by the time I do I’m already shoving a cigarette to my lips and all that comes out is a non-confirming noise.

“I know out of everyone, I’m the person you must least want to see.”

I take a deep drag, trying to concentrate on something other than remembering that disgraceful night.

“It wasn’t right for you to have to fight with your brother because of my actions. I….”

I look at him out of the corner of my eye, his expression distraught. Did he know what had gone on that night? I felt my fingers start digging into the couch, heat rising to my face again.

“I don’t know what I was thinking Kohta – it was so stupid of me to ask Kirito to do that!”

“Aiji….”

I had to interject, even if I had no follow-up. What the hell was he talking about? He wanted Kirito to get me to screw him?

“No Kohta, I’m not some damn teenager anymore. Fooling around at our workplace; it’s unforgivable.”

I begin breathing again, having stopped cultivating my last thought. For some reason, a heavy feeling sank into my gut which I couldn’t discern. He’d been talking about having sex at practice. The event seemed like eons ago now.

He looks back up at me.

“Kirito told me you were upset and he had tried to defend me. But he shouldn’t have. I don’t deserve defending. What I asked him to do was wrong.”

“What I asked him to do”?

I was stunned. I expected lying, but, clearly Aiji had not only been lied to about the reason behind our “fight” -- Kirito had forced him to take the blame on top of it.

“You must be disgusted with me Kohta, and if you are, I will accept that. But please don’t take it out on Kirito when I’m to blame. Please don’t feel you can’t come to practice.”

He sounded so earnest, so sincere….and even then, if it was his fault, looking at those eyes I wanted to forgive him. I wanted to accept him like he was pleading to be.

“Aiji….you asked him to do….that?”

I couldn’t believe it. There was no way Aiji had instigated that, no matter how much of a bitch he wanted to be at practice.

Tears welled in his eyes, and I just sat there with a nearly burned out cigarette in one hand, dazed and confused.

“Yes Kohta, I asked Kirito to do that to me. I told him to,” he repeats with more conviction, wiping the corner of one eye.

Was he crying because he was ashamed of his behavior? Because he thought I hated him? I didn’t understand what was going on, but I know now why he couldn’t hold back his tears. I know that he was ashamed to be lying to my face. Ashamed that both of us knew the truth about the situation and neither of us would reveal it.

“I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

I stare at him, unable to comprehend his request. What was Kirito getting out of this? What sort of perverse kick could he possibly get out of humiliating his only brother and faithful partner? Having us sit here, apologizing and falling over ourselves for shit we didn’t even do?

It eluded me at this point that Aiji had willingly been a part of anything. I almost felt like he had been raped and was trying to apologize for it. If ever I felt hatred towards my own brother, it had never raged within me as it did then. Kirito was using him as a doormat and nothing gave another human being that right. Not even love.

“It’s not your fault Aiji. Don’t apologize.”

My cigarette managed to burn my fingers before I put it out, but I was past paying attention to detail.

“Kohta I insist---”

I grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t.”

His eyes widened a bit in surprise. I don’t blame him – it was unlike me to act like that.

We sat there quietly as I held on to him, and whatever physical bond was taking place it began to extend into the mental realm. I felt like I had insight into Aiji once more, bullheaded in believing I knew what was going on between him and my brother and what should be done about it. For the first time since Eiko, that need to protect flickered within me and I embraced it. My friend was defenseless and I would care for him. Aiji needed me.

His wrist relaxed in my grip.

“You know,” he says quietly, looking over my face, “you look a lot like your brother.”

There was something to his voice, too veiled for someone like me to understand it clearly. I let go of him, abruptly awkward with the contact.

“Kohta, I’m sorry; I don’t know what made me say that.”

“It’s okay,” I lied, looking away. I didn’t want to remind him of my brother in any way. I didn’t want to resemble scum.

“If there’s anything I can do to make you feel better….”

I can feel him shifting on the couch.

Aiji needs me, just like Eiko needed me….

“Anything at all…..”

His hand tentatively touches my shoulder, my breath coming deeper as I close my eyes.

Just like he needed me that night….

“…Kohta?”

Hearing him say my name so near my ear, his breath making the tip of it burn. All of those feelings came back, all of those grotesque feelings of lust and power that I had tried so hard to drown out in isolation….

It’s what he wants, Kohta.

When I turned, his face was already there; his lips already waiting. Kirito had been the one to say that and it was fitting that the one time I was rough with him Aiji honed in on my inner desires. And I kissed him with little regard to anything. My hand was at the back of his neck and sin, consent, kin – none of it mattered. My fingers tangled in those violet strands, my lips locked onto his as our tongues met over and over again. His hands rested against the dip of my sternum while I wrapped my other arm around him, my hand sliding underneath the denim at his side and finding flesh underneath. I wanted him crushed against me , as close as I could get him, so that he would never have to put up with deceit and lies again. I would never violate him like I had come close to that night and I would never let anyone else do it to him either. I wanted him to know all this, but I never had the gift of words like Kirito did. All I had were these calloused hands to clutch and hold with. I was the one who was sorry. I was the one who needed forgiving.

He broke away from me eventually to breathe, and the monstrous passion within me relented.

I waited for him to protest what had just occurred, to regret his lapse of judgment and make mention of my brother.

He didn’t.

“There’s a new movie I want out I want to see. Would you like to go this weekend?”

Like nothing had changed at all he said that, still wrapped up in my embrace.

“Un.”

I let go of him slowly, partially because I was unable to react any faster and partially because I knew I didn’t want to let him go. Free from each other, we sat on the couch quietly for a few minutes, again incapable of discussing the one person that was on our minds.

There was a loud crack of thunder outside that shook one of my windows. Again, I had forgotten about the storm.

“Well, I better leave before the storm worsens…”

I nodded. I would have agreed to anything he said because I didn’t know what else to do.

Aiji looks in my eyes again.

“Thank you Kohta.”

He places a gentle kiss on my cheek then gets up to let himself out.

When the door shuts I stare at my hand, realizing I had been running my fingers along the scars that crept up his sides. I could still feel them, their strange texture and methodic placing. I could still feel his breath on my ear.

It’s what he wants, Kohta.

Again my brother’s voice rang through my mind.

Despite it all, I can look back and have the satisfaction of knowing Kirito had been wrong at that point. I still wasn’t attracted to Aiji in the manner he had accused me of. It wasn’t Aiji’s body I wanted.

I just didn’t want to see him become like me.

~*~

From that night onward, I would have to classify myself as a changed man. I’m not entirely sure the change fit the connotation behind that phrase, but words have their literal meanings. I ceased to care about what was going on in my life. I’d come to the decision that I was always destined to make the wrong decisions, so instead of letting it all haunt me, I just wouldn’t think about it. With the way my behavior was going, I would have ended up killing myself out of disgrace had I stopped to think about it all for a moment. Whatever I’d told myself huddled in the shower cursing Kirito and his perversion had been lies. Under it all I was just a self-indulgent bastard, much like my brother, no matter how hard I tried not to be. Even if I thought I was doing the right thing, it was really just me doing the right thing for Kohta. If that wasn’t the case, I never would have started seeing Aiji.

I went with him on Sunday to see the new American movie he was interested in.

It was a small, dingy theater local to the apartment he and my brother lived in. He acted like normal and after a day to recuperate from my life spiraling out of control, I managed to act like my usual self as well. Afterwards we had gone to a small restaurant near there to have some lunch. It wasn’t romantic and I didn’t feel the need to be romantic – just the need to be with him. About halfway through our meal I began to realize I hadn’t spent time alone with Aiji since he and my brother started dating. They were always together, and I’d almost forgotten what it was like to have him alone. Having his attention solely on me was like a completely different experience, and maybe my earlier memories of that were what kept him in such a good light for me these years. No matter what came out of his mouth, he always managed to make me feel good about myself, which should have struck me as odd considering how much shit I really felt like. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it wasn’t simple flattery. I was used to that from the women I dated. I don’t know if he was aware of his charm or not, but there was just something about the way he spoke, the timing of his laughs, even the way he moved his hands that radiated acquiescence. Maybe I’d just never paid attention to it before, or took it for granted. Now that I needed such comfort, it meant the world to me.

When I had shown up for practice on Monday, everyone acted normal enough. Jun was the type who wanted to bury any unpleasantness under the rug as soon as possible, and Takeo was happy enough to have someone sane around. After all, he thought I’d been fighting for his case to begin with, so if some rough spots came about from throwing my weight at Kirito he was still all for it. He’d taken me aside and said he was glad my absence shook some “sense” into Kirito, even if it was just a little. Apparently my brother had been fairly quiet while I was gone, although Aiji had been causing more trouble than usual. Jun told me during our smoke break that he’d been especially quick to criticize anything that went wrong, and in summation, was being a bitch in general about anything. The whole day I was there he was far from that sort of behavior. Aiji agreed with anything I had to say, and Kirito was so quiet he sort of faded into the background. It probably helped that I refused to look at my brother anyways I was so disgusted with him. Actually, disgusted isn’t the right word. Disappointed was more like it. I was disgusted with myself, but for my brother, my contempt was more aimed towards his increasing ability to lie to anyone about anything. When I thought about the whole sex side of it, he was gay and I should have known that meant his idea of sexual pleasure was a lot different than mine. I couldn’t call him gross for something I probably wouldn’t have flinched at had it been in a porn tape. I, on the other hand, was straight, (or at least I kept telling myself that) so for me to dip my hand in it all was repulsive. Going out with Aiji though, and having kissed him….I couldn’t count it as sexual, no matter what it looked like. It wasn’t repulsive, and I was sure having him express a want for my company reaffirmed this belief. If Aiji knew what was going on this time and still wanted to see me, it couldn’t be wrong, could it?

After practice, he asked me to go jewelry shopping with him. I said yes. Compulsively, I bought him the bracelet he wanted.

I could have wondered if he’d told Kirito about our kiss, or what he was saying when my brother came home to an empty nest. I didn’t. So long as he had a smile on his face, that’s all I asked for. He needed one, desperately, much like myself. I didn’t know just how desperate he was at the time, but there was always a gut feeling that something was wrong. We never talked about Kirito when we went out, or when he came over. Maybe he realized I’d been touching his scars and that said enough. The part of me that knew I was living in denial about my situation worried that the next time Aiji came to see me he’d have a black eye or a busted lip. And when that day didn’t come, that part wondered how on earth he was getting away with seeing me so much and Kirito not coming to break down my door. Since we were trying to put together a tour and create some new material for a single, there wasn’t much free time to begin with. My friends outside the band would call and I would have to turn them down because Aiji had called me first. Takeo would want to have a few drinks, but I had already invited Aiji over. It would be impossible for Kirito not to put two and two together if just for the fact that no one could ever get a hold of me if he bothered asking around. Even my mother called to ask if I had a new girlfriend; I had missed the weekend I was supposed to go visit her.

Before I knew it, the tour for FINALE had started. It was a big thing, and we were going to be taping the finale at Budokan for VHS release, which was an even bigger thing. My mind was generally occupied by not making a fool of myself throughout the whole tour. I knew I wasn’t the biggest draw as a bassist -- add to that that I wasn’t the greatest bassist to begin with, and that I had an older, more attractive brother as vocalist and you ended up with me striving twice as hard to make anything of myself the whole time. No one told you those sort of things, but you found your popularity out soon enough, and both Takeo and I were on the lower end of Pierra interest. I wanted to be cool and I wanted my name to be known for being cool. I didn’t want anyone guessing at how broken my life was turning out to be. No one wants to be “that really fucked up guy” when it came to fame, and I was no different. So I had little time to think about more than not tripping when I ran with my bass and not screwing up any of my brief solos. One would think the fanservice at every concert would remind me of all my problems, but the truth was it was so mechanical on my brother and Aiji’s part I failed to notice when it was going on most the time.

It turned out I couldn’t, however, escape reality backstage.

The hotel we were staying at for the Hyogo leg of the tour was pretty small. Everyone had to share rooms except for me because I won at Janken for once. Aiji always volunteered to room with Kirito, but Jun, Takeo, and I were always left to decide who shared with who. I’d been exhausted, laying face-down on my bed in a freshly bathed heap of sleepiness, limbs sprawled about knowing no one was there to comment on how dorky I may have looked. I’d almost fallen asleep too, but 30 seconds into oblivion someone started knocking on my door.

It was Aiji.

“What’s up?” I asked with a yawn, my hair still damp and falling in my eyes.

“Here, I brought you your favorite.” He held out a bottle of orange Qoo and a pack of cigarettes. “I saw how tired you were after the show and figured you wouldn’t go out and get them yourself.”

My mouth hung open a it in surprise. Our guitarist could be so nice it hurt sometimes.

“Uh, thanks.” I grinned sheepishly and took them from him, knowing he wouldn’t take them back or the money for them. “You wanna come in?”

“You must want to sleep…,” he protested habitually, and I noticed he hadn’t managed to get all his eyeliner off. I was always amazed at how drastically just a little bit of eye makeup could change someone’s look. He didn’t look half as tired as I did, at any rate.

I waved my hand. “No, no, come on in.”

There wasn’t much space in my room besides the bed, so I naturally motioned for him to sit on it.

“Want one?” I held out a cigarette once I managed to unwrap the pack. He shook his head, instead watching me light on for myself.

“Mind if I turn the TV on?”

I shrugged and handed him the remote, sitting down next to him in the process. I hadn’t realized just how small the room was until there was another person in it.

“So….,” I looked at the TV, hoping to find something I could comment on, but there was just some old samurai movie on.

“You were great out there tonight,” he commented idly. I tried my hardest not to grin like an idiot.

“Thanks. You were really cool too, you know.”

He smiled. “No, I almost messed up one song. I could have done better.”

I noticed he was wearing the bracelet I bought him, his fingers tugging at it every now and then. We sat there in awkward silence for awhile.

“Kohta, can I ask you something?”

I jumped a bit at his voice. His gaze was fixed on the television, a sort of vacant look on his face.

“Sure.”

It was obvious something important was on his mind – I just wasn’t sure what.

“…..When are you going to kiss me again?”

My tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth as I suddenly became acutely aware of how close our bodies were. Heat was creeping up my neck again as I sat speechless.

“Aiji, I, it -- it,” I fumbled for words. Kirito’s knack for picking the most disarming comment possible had rubbed off on him.

“It was a mistake?”

He put his arms behind him and leaned a bit further back on the bed. I stood up nervously, using the pretense that I wanted to grab the ashtray.

“No, no that’s not what I as going to say,” I blurted, simultaneously trying to inhale my entire cigarette.

“Then? Why haven’t you?” he persisted in a manner that didn’t remind me of his normal behavior at all.

I quickly snubbed the rest of my cigarette out, turning my back to him so that he couldn’t see my face. But there was a mirror on the dresser so I could still see him behind me on the bed, staring right back at me.

I looked down, away from my reflection.

“Aiji, even if I wanted to, I…can’t.”

It was hard for me to face the issue of whether I wanted to or not. My brain shut down two steps into the idea. Addressing it all reminded me of my brother and his perversion all over again. I could almost feel his presence looming over me, threatening to beat his foolish little brother if he didn’t wise up and behave.

“Kohta….”

I glanced at the mirror in time to see that Aiji had stood and was coming to stand behind me. I quickly shut my eyes, but I could still feel his hand rest on my back.

“….nothing should stop you from taking the things you want.”

There was more pressure on my back and I knew he was resting his cheek against me. I repressed a shudder of arousal as my jaw clenched in anger with myself. The thought of kissing him again was stimulating, even if I didn’t want to admit it. Having spent all that time together, Aiji was slowly turning into something other than just a man. All of his attention, all of his comfort, all of his wanting to be with me was making me want him. It was pathetic how much I needed the attention of someone constantly, and without Kirito as an option to turn to, I had realized just how lonely I really was. And here was Aiji, filling all the gaps left….all except for carnal desires. I’d been telling myself it was Kirito who was in the way of anything like that, even if I wanted it. I’d been telling myself I didn’t want it.

“My brother,” I whispered weakly, my hands curling into fists.

I was using him as an excuse; Aiji was right. If I really wanted Aiji to be mine I wouldn’t let him stop me, just like I wouldn’t have let him stop me from marrying Eiko. If human nature didn’t override logic like that, the millions of affairs that took place each year wouldn’t exist. I just didn’t want to let myself see him in that light. I didn’t want to think I could find another man attractive. And even if I had began to think Kirito didn’t deserve him, I didn’t want to ask Aiji to cheat.

“Don’t worry about him.”

I should have been suspicious – oh god how I wish I would have taken some fucking time to try and figure out why Aiji would let me do the things I did to him before it was too late. Before I’d fallen in love with him.
But I was so damn weak, I fell so damn hard for him when he said those three words…

“Kohta, I need you….”

I had to turn around and face him. He was almost in my arms as it was, the space between the dresser and the bed almost non-existent.

What was I going to say? No, my brother treats you like shit, it’s your own fault? No, I almost forced my body upon you without your consent, it’s not a problem? No, you’ve never been my friend and I never cared for you?

No, I don’t need you either?

He leaned towards me and I was already there trying to meet his lips. I briefly thought that this was the worst possible place we could have chosen to kiss, with everyone who never needed to know about it on the other side the walls. I couldn’t stop myself though. I had to gather in my arms, had to touch his face…..I didn’t know anything about being with a man or how I was supposed to treat him, and in the end I cupped the side of his face with one hand and wrapped my arm around his waist like he was a girl. There was this driving need to pull him close as possible, shove him inside of me so he’d be safe. Maybe, if he had made more of a move to make things more intimate than just kissing, I would have lost my nerve and thought better of what I was doing. He seemed content just to kiss me, even when my hand ventured underneath his shirt. Again and again I ran my fingers over all the scars I could find on his sides and lower back, maybe to remind myself of just how much he needed me.

“I want you to like me,” he murmured into the kiss.

My short fingernails dug into the small of his back, flesh exposed by his low-cut jeans.

“I like you,” I replied honestly. I didn’t think he meant something deeper.

“No,” he whispered, pushing me further against the cheap wooden dresser, “more than that.”

I made a noise of agreement as he wrapped his arms around my neck. My inhibitions were fast slipping away from me, the metal of the bracelet I bought him pressed against my skin.

We ended up entertaining our desires for some time, but no clothing was removed. I look back and think how adolescent the experience was; Aiji probably aware that it was like getting into sex all over again for me. Propelled blindly by hormones, I couldn’t have put on much of a show anyways. I spent most of the night kissing his skin, his rough fingertips caressing my face and arms. Simple pleasure which I hadn’t experienced in a long time. Considering how drained we were from the concert, it was only a matter of time before we both fell asleep on the bed. I held him close to me while we slept, molding him to the curves of my own body. It wasn’t that much of a surprise to see he’d slipped away from me before the morning. We were playing with fire but Aiji was the wiser one. If anyone had caught coming out of my room that early, who knows what would have been said. The funny thing was, I woke up with a smile on my face. Remembering his lips on my throat left me with pleasant feeling despite the immorality of it all. From then on, all of our interaction would leave me with the same warm high. I’d crossed the physical barrier and there was no going back….Aiji’s visits took on another light after that. In public we acted the same, but behind closed doors things had changed. He insisted on cooking for me when he came over nights; whenever we sat together on the couch my arm always ended up around him. It never went past a lot of touching and the occasional kiss, but I was beyond content. My playing had never been better and my home was more cozy than it had been in a long time. Kirito and his discord had all but dwindled to nothing. All my previous anxiety seemed like a distant memory almost justified by my current bliss.

However, there would soon be a price for my happiness.

~*~

[next chapter]