Hikaru No Go Fan Fiction ❯ The Extent of Denial ❯ Love and Prejudice ( Chapter 11 )

Waya woke slowly, feeling sluggish and disoriented. He tried to push the blanket off so that he could breathe, but it didn't move. He opened his eyes, irritated and very prepared to rip his bedding apart.

 

Isumi's sleeping face greeted him, peaceful and…and way too close to his. He realized belatedly that it was not a blanket that kept him from moving, but his friend's arms that were firmly wrapped around him.

 

He felt the panic starting, and just as he was about to start struggling, Isumi's blue eyes opened and focused on him.

 

“Waya,” the other boy murmured huskily, smiling slightly.

 

It was a strange smile, one he'd never seen on Isumi before. One that had no business being directed at Waya. It was a sexy smile.

 

“Oh, look, Isumi - we left the T.V. on. I'll just go and—“

 

Isumi pushed him back down gently. “No, Waya, that's not important.”

 

Somehow one of Isumi's hands had made it up to cup his cheek, and seemed as though it would be staying there. “I-isumi, can I get up? This is really too much friendly contact for me all at once, you know? I know you're trying to desensitize me, but going too far will have the opposite effect, right?” He was about to have an anxiety attack.

 

Intense, darkening blue eyes regarded him more closely. “Are you…afraid, Waya? Why would you be afraid of me?” Isumi's gaze remained very warm. A finger stroked across Waya's cheek, sending a jolt through him.

 

He jerked, unable to stop himself. He desperately wanted to slide out from under Isumi, to get away from here. He sensed that it was imperative that he do so immediately, otherwise…something would happen, something bad.

 

“I-I just…don't want to be touched anymore, Isumi. I'm ready to go home.”

 

Isumi looked wounded. “Waya…you've stayed over with me so many times. Don't be like this.”

 

The dark-haired boy suddenly employed his other hand in stroking Waya's neck. From there it slid into his hair, massaging his scalp.

 

“Mm…no! Stop it, Isumi.” Waya tried to twist away.

 

“Stop running away from me,” came Isumi's hot, whispering breath right into his ear.

 

Waya gasped, back arching slightly. “I think—I think we need to reconsider this friendship! I'm not so sure that it's a good idea for us to continue being friends, Isumi.” His heart was pounding like a rabbit's.

 

The silence stretched out for so long that he turned his head back to look up at Isumi. He had only a split second warning of something in Isumi's eyes before the other boy's lips were on his, working his mouth open.

 

“Mmph! Isu—Isu—“ a tongue slipping into his mouth silenced his attempts at speaking.

 

Waya felt a violent shudder race throughout his body, and then a sweeping hot and cold feeling - a jolt that seemed to dislocate his soul and disconnect him from reality.

 

Bad…this was bad! But he gasped and arched into Isumi without conscious thought, kissing the other boy back aggressively. He felt hands under his shirt, parting his shirt, sending tingles all across his torso and down into more sensitive areas. Stomach muscles clenching as Isumi's light touch swept over him, Waya turned his head away and broke the kiss.

 

“No…no…Isumi, this is wrong—“ His friend's mouth descended on his throat, hot and wanting. Waya gasped, and cut off the mewl of pleasure that was trying to work its way past his lips. “Ah…god, Isumi…stop!”

 

Isumi pinned Waya's restraining hands back, blue eyes blazing into his. “If you want me to stop, hurt me. Bite me. Kick me. You can do whatever you like, Waya, but I can't let you run away when I know you're not coming back. I can't. I'll do anthing, whatever it takes to keep you here.” Isumi's face pinched, then crumpled, and tears were suddenly falling on Waya's neck.

 

Waya closed his eyes, feeling frightened. Afraid of that desperate look that Isumi was giving him right now. The other boy collapsed on him, sobbing into his neck.

 

“Waya…Waya…don't leave me…”

 

Those heartbroken, whispered pleas were making him cry. He felt tears begin rolling down his cheeks, over Isumi's hand that still cupped his cheek. “Please, Isumi, don't do this to me,” Waya whispered back. “I can't…I can't do this.”

 

“It can't be that bad for you, can it? You seemed as though you liked it—“

 

He felt lips on his again and tried not to yield, tried to be strong, but Isumi knew him too well and made him gasp with more of those feathery touches, thus offering his friend the access he desired.

 

The second kiss was worse. Things tightened inside of him, and a heavy and urgent warmth had infused his body, its center between his legs.

 

Was he gay, as queer as Hikaru and Touya acted? Had they lain on a couch kissing like this, feeling like this? He didn't want this! He was normal, not bad, so why was this happening? Why was he lying here beneath Isumi, crying and gasping?

 

Did he truly want this? Was it just his body being confused, misunderstanding these touches? Did his body think that this was love? How ridiculous, it wasn't possible for two boys to truly love each other. After all, did he really want—

 

An image unfolded in his mind of what would happen if he let this progress, just to satisfy the animal urges of his body. He knew enough to know the mechanics of it, but the movie they had watched earlier had filled in any blanks he might have had. After his clothes were off, while he was wrapped deeply in Isumi's embrace, the other boy would—would…enter him…

 

Waya cried out into Isumi's mouth, his hips pushing up into the other boy's, the touches and the things he had just imagined combining into a burning passion, a fierce desire. His tears flowed more freely as he noted the effect his imaginings had provoked within his body. He ached for Isumi, could think of nothing but being beneath his friend without clothes, letting the dark-haired boy take him. It was the most intimate thing he could imagine, and if this was where his body so desperately wanted to go, would it hurt to let it happen once? Just this physical thing to satisfy his body's needs? They wouldn't need to let anyone else know, and he trusted Isumi to keep secrets.

 

He opened his mouth wider, inviting the other to more intimacy, and slowly spread his legs to allow Isumi's weight to settle on him properly.

 

The other pro paused in kissing him, pulling back a little to look searchingly into his eyes. “Waya?” he asked tentatively, desperately.

 

Waya only looked back at Isumi, recalling all the good times between them, all the laughter, all the kind things that this boy had done for him. Without looking away from that questioning gaze, he freed a wrist from Isumi's grasp and reached down between them to undo the fastenings of their slacks.

 

Isumi gasped, looking down in shock, then glanced back at his face. “Wa-waya??”

 

 

 

 

 

 

Isumi stared down at Waya's flushed face, noting the smoldering look the other boy was giving him with those amber eyes.

 

Could it be possible for a struggling and terrified Waya to suddenly become…willing? The thought made his heart race. He had wanted this for so long. So close to the other boy, yet unable to take him into his arms. Unable to kiss him.

 

The noises that Waya had been making had aroused him to a fever pitch, and he could barely stand it. When he had felt the other's legs shift to accommodate him, he had almost started crying all over again.

 

Releasing Waya's wrists, he stroked the other boy's face. “Waya?”

 

As soon as Waya's hands were freed, he took Isumi's hand in his and slid it down his body - and underneath his boxers.

 

He gasped. Waya was quite aroused, contrary to what he had imagined. The other boy's eyes had closed as soon as Isumi's hand touched him there, a fresh blush burning across an already flushed face.

 

“Mmm….ah…Isumi…are we going to…?” Amber eyes opened halfway to look up at him. Waya's voice was low and husky, and sounded painfully sexy to Isumi.

 

He didn't need to be prompted a second time. He wrapped his fingers around Waya and began stroking him, earning a sharp cry and fingers gripping at his back. Isumi nipped at the side of the other boy's neck, intent on making him want this so much that there would be no turning back, no reconsidering.

 

Waya was breathing a low litany of moans into his ear, body moving slowly against his. Isumi was not fooled by the slow pace. He knew that in a moment, the other boy's body would welcome his.

 

“Wait a moment, Waya, I need to get something.” He got up, going to the bathroom.

 

“Ahh…?” the other boy responded with confusion, gazing after him with eyes that were almost unfocused.

 

Isumi took the tube of lubrication from under the sink and returned to the couch, setting it down on the floor within easy reach. He leaned over Waya, pulling his pants and boxers down and casting them aside, leaving the auburn-haired boy naked but for his open shirt.

 

“Isumi, what—“ Sense was returning to those eyes, a touch of fear. That had to be taken care of.

 

He knelt without responding and took Waya's hips in his hands, leaning down simultaneously to take Waya into his mouth.

 

The other boy cried out sharply, hips bucking, and grabbed at the couch in a vain attempt to ground himself against the feeling.

 

Isumi smiled and took more of Waya into his mouth, working to bring his beloved greater pleasure. But not too much. He released his friend after a moment.

 

He had brief concerns about this being too much too soon, but if he didn't go all the way with this tonight, he might not have a second chance. And if Waya didn't have anything to remember feeling…if they didn't properly consummate…the other pro might convince himself that it was a mistake, or just some strange, unexplainable event to be forgotten quickly.

 

He did not want Waya capable of forgetting anything about this night.

 

Isumi shucked off his own slacks and boxers, then opened the tube of lubrication and squeezed a liberal amount onto his hands. When he reached for Waya, the auburn-haired boy gave him wide eyes and shied away a little.

 

“What…what's that?”

 

“Just to help us a little,” he reassured.

 

He gently massaged Waya's entrance and the other boy cried out, tossing his head. “Isumi!”

 

“That's not so bad, right?” he murmured, slowly easing a finger into the slender body before him.

 

“Ahh….AH! Isu…Is…” Waya's attempt at speech dissolved into moans, and the boy threw his head back against the couch cushions.

 

Isumi leaned close to kiss the other boy's face, working his way over to gently claim that gasping mouth. He knew intuitively not to tell Waya he loved him…not this first time. It would be too much for his friend to accept.

 

While Waya was thrashing, he had added a second finger, and now had slowly worked his soon-to-be-lover up to a third. He was surprised to note that the auburn-haired boy seemed to have no pain, just perhaps some slight initial discomfort.

 

Isumi drew back to look down upon one very affected Waya. One very loved Waya. One very beautiful and desirable Waya, panting away thanks to his touch.

 

“Nnn…Isumi…” Waya opened his eyes, turning a pleading look on Isumi.

 

He smiled and scooped his friend up, depositing him gently on the carpeted floor. “It will be easier here.” There was no way he was going to try doing this for the first time on a narrow couch.

 

Isumi applied lubrication to himself while Waya watched, blushing harder under the other boy's gaze. He had been planning for this for so long, wondering if he would always be prepared in vain. But even though they were here like this now, and soon to break down the last barrier between them, nothing was for certain, and he had no idea what would happen after this.

 

With that in mind, he pinned Waya down and entered him with painful slowness, monitoring his partner's reactions. The slowness of it all was driving him crazy, and he was close to the edge himself, but the last thing he wanted was to hurt this person that was so precious to him.

 

The thought that Waya might leave him, even after this…sent fresh tears coursing down his cheeks. He did not want to lose this person. He would do anything not to lose this person beneath him, this person in whom he was now completely held.

 

He smiled tenderly as he saw that tears were running down Waya's cheeks, too. Those eyes opened to look up at him, and fingers dug into his arms.

 

“Move!” Waya cried, arching into him.

 

Isumi complied, lowering himself so that he could embrace Waya while they made love. He increased the pace gradually, treasuring every sound the other boy made for him, and there were quite a lot of them. He etched the moment into his memory so that he would always remember this as if it had just happened. Isumi lost his ability to restrain his passion as he felt the crushing of his heart. He drove harder into Waya in response to the pain.

 

Waya clung even more tightly to him, crying out repeatedly as if each thrust were assailing his heart. “Isu…kiss…” the auburn-haired boy forced out.

 

“Happy…to…” Isumi replied, kissing his partner deeply. He explored every corner of Waya's mouth, savored the taste of him, and vowed to remember all of it.

 

The other pro began making urgent little noises, body stiffening.

 

“It's…okay…please, Waya…I want you to feel this so much…that you scream…” His own body had nearly come to the end of its endurance, tried as it was by the tight embrace of his beloved partner's body and the lovely friction between them.

 

Waya suddenly broke the kiss, breathing hard, and started thrashing violently in Isumi's arms. “IS-U-MI!” his friend cried loudly, bucking over and over.

 

The amber-eyed boy's body clamped down on him forcefully, and he gasped, unable to hold out any longer. His vision went white, and he found himself biting down on Waya's shoulder as he cried out his own release. `I love you…I love you…I love you!' he thought fiercely as the body of his partner cradled him through the crushing waves of passion.

 

Isumi lay panting on Waya for a moment, completely oblivious to his surroundings…until Waya's cell phone rang.

 

Waya reached out and dragged his pants close, pulling the cell out of the pocket and pressing the `answer' button. “Hmm, Hikaru? What…what's up?”

 

Even to a disoriented Isumi, the other boy's voice sounded breathless and husky.

 

“What do you mean why? I don't…sound strange. `Course it's not a b-bad time.”

 

Isumi didn't miss Waya's stutter and the tremulous quality of his voice.

 

“Sure, we can hang tomorrow…mmm….'kay, bye.” Waya hung up and tossed the phone away.

 

“Is everything okay with Hikaru? Isn't it close to midnight? He doesn't usually—“

 

“Isumi,” Waya whispered.

 

He tensed, warned by the quality of the whisper, and propped himself up on his forearms to examine the other boy's face. “Yes”?

 

Waya looked frightened, his eyes averted…and ashamed. “What did we just do?”

 

“We made love,” Isumi answered matter-of-factly.

 

Those amber eyes suddenly fixed on him, glared at him. Challenging him. “Is that what we did? Wasn't it just sex? It's just sex, Isumi, just a physical thing, because two boys can't l-love each other.”

 

Isumi blinked, completely taken aback. Their bodies were still warm from their lovemaking, and Waya wanted to denounce it all as some sort of animalistic rutting without emotion. He thought he'd been prepared for some sort of negative response, but he wasn't prepared for that.

 

“I care very much for you, Waya,” Isumi said carefully.

 

“I care about you, too, Isumi, but…please…get out of my body.” The last was said in a pained whisper. Waya's expression was tormented, embarrassed.

 

“You seemed to like having me there well enough five minutes ago,” Isumi whispered back, tears welling in his eyes even as anger kindled in his heart.

 

“You did things to me, things that made it impossible to think, and now I've gone and done something bad.” The accusatory tone, the child-like look…

 

He didn't know which to believe, or which to respond to. “Waya! It was not bad. Stop acting as if I've perpetrated some grievous crime upon your person.”

 

Waya pushed him, trying to get out from under his body. “Do you have to make this worse than it already is??”

 

“Waya!!” he exclaimed, heartbroken. But Isumi withdrew, kneeling on the floor between the other boy's feet.

 

His lover leapt up immediately, snatching clothing up and dressing at top speed. “I need to go, Isumi.”

 

“When will I see you again?” he asked desperately, getting to his feet.

 

Waya paused to look at him, eyes scanning his nude body almost helplessly. “I…I don't know.”

 

“Waya!” Isumi reached out to grab the other pro's wrist, but Waya dodged and ran out the door. The only way he could follow would be to run out naked, but chasing his friend, and in such a flamboyant fashion, would only make things worse.

 

He closed and locked the door behind Waya and stood in the center of the living room, staring at the floor. He should probably take a shower. He should probably call Hikaru to ask about meeting up tomorrow, but that might push Waya away even further if Isumi showed up uninvited.

 

So he did the only thing that he could. Isumi sat down on the floor and cried, great sobs forcing their way out of his throat.

 

“Waya…please…” he whispered to the carpet, clenching his fists. “I thought it was all right. Please don't—“ he choked and broke off in a fit of sobbing, feeling suffocated by his tears.

 

More than anything, more than Go, more than life, he wanted and needed Waya. But all he could do was wait on the other boy's decision. Isumi was utterly helpless.