Hikaru No Go Fan Fiction ❯ The Extent of Denial ❯ Cornered ( Chapter 28 )

A/N: Lord have mercy. It was so chaotic and frantic trying to finish this chapter and the next during the holidays! Argh!! Nevertheless, my poor readers, I apologize. I hope that you're all still with me. I hope you enjoy them! It's very sad when one has to abandon company with, “I MUST complete writing the update for my fanfic. You don't UNDERSTAND!” Then one must explain to aforementioned company that no, you cannot write boy-smut with them watching. It just doesn't work! (It's `unnatural', my roommate chimes in - and how right she is.)

 

Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, Happy New Year's and whatever else may fall in there!

 

 

 

_________________________________________________________________ _______

 

 

 

 

“Thank you for actually having your house-warming before the weekend, Akira. I was worried you'd delay until the last minute.” Hikaru smiled, slapping a black stone down on the Go-ban and right in the middle of Akira's territory.

 

Touya responded fiercely a heartbeat later, aqua eyes never leaving Hikaru's face. “I said that I would.”

 

Isumi may have had several cups of sake already, but that did not make him any less capable of recognizing passionate looks when he saw them. He had been watching Touya watching Hikaru with burning eyes for the last several hours - essentially since he and Waya had arrived.

 

Hikaru had already been there by that time, playing a game against Touya. They had since played another game, and he and Waya had begun their own after watching for some time.

 

As the night wore on, he was able to determine that the bleach-banged boy was rather relaxed and not the least bit concerned about Touya's intense focus. In fact, Isumi almost suspected that Hikaru was somehow unaware of the heated glances that Touya kept sending his way.

 

Their house-warming gifts were neatly arranged on the coffee table, consisting of tea, a rice cooker, various food items and too much sake (the last being from Hikaru, surprisingly enough). They had all had too much to drink, in Isumi's opinion, especially Touya.

 

Isumi wondered if he shouldn't take Hikaru aside and warn him. For he was fairly certain that something was going to happen tonight. Touya was acting too strangely for anything else. He would never have imagined that Touya might have enough nerve, courage and initiative to take such action, despite the fact that the aqua-eyed boy exhibited those traits unfalteringly in his Go. Go and love were very different things, and he knew that Touya had not had much experience with the latter.

 

After some thought and a dark glance from Waya for his hesitation during their game, he decided to leave it alone. His interference simply wasn't necessary this time around.

 

He and Waya would leave soon. They'd enjoyed themselves, but both Hikaru and Touya were partially unavailable to interact with, as they were slowly withdrawing into their own little world - a world in which only Touya and Hikaru existed.

 

Good luck, Hikaru.

 

 

 

_________________________________________________________________ _______

 

 

 

 

Hikaru sighed, staring up at the ceiling. It had been a nice party, after all. Waya and Isumi had left, and now it was just he and Akira. The other boy was presently in the kitchen, making tea for the two of them.

 

He stretched where he lay on Akira's bed, yawning, and made as if to slip his hands under the pillow. He froze when his fingers encountered something hard and cold.

 

Startled, he sat up, lifting the pillow to investigate. What he saw lying there shocked him even more. It was a framed picture of him, a picture of him lying on the floor in the clothing he'd worn on Akira's moving day. He recalled the moment quite clearly.

 

Blushing, he quickly put the pillow back over it and resumed his previous position, trying not to wonder what it meant and failing miserably. It had likely been on the bedside table before they'd arrived for the house-warming party, then quickly concealed under the pillow at some point.

 

Why would Akira have a framed picture of him beside the bed…?

 

“Are you okay, Hikaru?” Akira called from the kitchen. “You're terribly quiet.”

 

“Uh, yeah,” he called back. “Just resting.” He closed his eyes to be more credible, though his mind was racing furiously.

 

A few minutes later, he heard the sound of something being set down on the dresser. Hikaru opened his eyes, spotting the tray with their tea on it first. That had been the noise he'd heard. As his eyes located Akira, he also noticed that the other boy was reaching for something on the bookshelf - the camera.

 

“Akira…Akira, no. Give the camera a rest.” His rival's obsession with photography was beginning to concern him.

 

Akira turned back, the camera raised before his face.

 

Hikaru sighed and remained lying there, waiting patiently for the picture to be taken. He couldn't understand what could possibly be so intriguing and photogenic about him at this moment. He was wearing casual clothing, consisting of jeans and a black t-shirt. There was nothing remotely interesting about it.

 

Regardless, the click and whirr of the camera came. And then a second time. And a third.

 

Hikaru lifted his head, staring incredulously. “Akira, you've got to be kidding me. I didn't even move.”

 

Akira's finger moved yet again, taking another photograph.

 

He rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine. If you want to take pictures…” He grinned, feeling evil and mischievous. If he played along with this, it would surely freak Akira out and send him running out of the room.

 

Hikaru sat up and rose to his knees, slowing dragging his t-shirt over his head and letting it fall onto the bed beside him.

 

Akira was still snapping away.

 

He crawled across the bed in a leisurely and admittedly scandalous fashion, embarrassing himself in the process. But he'd already made up his mind that he would get Akira back by making him break first. He worked to keep what he hoped was a sexy smile plastered on his face.

 

When he reached the end of the bed, he rose and slowly stalked towards the other boy, swinging his hips in a slightly exaggerated fashion.

 

Contrary to stopping the pictures, Akira began snapping them even faster.

 

Okay, then, let's try this, he thought smugly, fingers toying with the button of his jeans. After no change from Akira, he actually unbuttoned them.

 

Akira showed no signs of stopping the frantic photo shoot, despite obviously shaking fingers.

 

Disturbed now, Hikaru closed the distance between them and grabbed the wrist of the hand that held the camera, pulling it away from Akira's face. Those aqua eyes were brilliant and maddened, incandescent with something that looked similar to fury, but softer. The intensity of the other boy's eyes took his breath away.

 

“Akira…you know this is strange, right?” He smiled weakly and paused, waiting for a response. When none was forthcoming, he tried again. “Hello?”

 

Akira's lips trembled for a moment, brows drawing down in what appeared to be torment or pain.

 

That was the only warning he had. Suddenly Akira's lips were pressed against his, and his rival's free hand had slipped down the back of his jeans and under his boxers in order to grab his backside. He had a fleeting thought that his friend's hand was undoubtedly covering the tattoo before even that was swept away.

 

“'Kira—“ he fought to get out, the room spinning around him.

 

Akira ignored him, hungry lips opening his to admit a tongue that was just as desperate and starved. The hand with the camera struggled free of his and managed to set said object down on the dresser before returning to make a fist in the back of Hikaru's hair, preventing him from pulling away or breaking the kiss.

 

Startlement shot through Hikaru's warm, fuzzy thoughts when he felt the bed pressing into the backs of his legs before he was pushed down on it. The warmth of Akira's hand left his backside, only to brand his naked chest. He tried to struggle, to push the other pro away, but he didn't have the strength. All of his limbs felt weak and shaky.

 

He helplessly kissed back, running his hands down Akira's clothed back over and over. Vaguely, he knew that he needed to escape. The other boy's silky hair was caressing his face, his cheeks, and it was dizzying and intoxicating. The real Akira, not an imitation and his imagination…

 

Why was Akira doing this when the other boy didn't care…? Didn't care. It sent a frisson of cold through the heat that was immolating him. If they did this together now, how would he ever be able to face Akira again without thinking of it, without feeling it? It meant more to him than it did to Akira. How would he be able to live with himself, knowing that he was just a one-night stand? That he had not been that important to his rival, after all…

 

The thoughts further dispelled the warmth of Akira's touch, bringing him back to himself.

 

He was dimly aware that it was him that was moaning. His awareness of his body suddenly clarified and he was able to feel the fingers alternately stroking over his stomach and working on getting his zipper down.

 

Hikaru managed to break their kiss. “Akira!” he choked out, breathing labored. “Nooo…n-no.”

 

Even though those eyes were blazing into his, there was no response, so his pleas may as well have been ignored completely. Deliberately, Akira's exploring fingers slipped into his jeans, brushing his body lightly.

 

He cried out and fell back against the bed, barely able to maintain his equilibrium.

 

“I had to have the picture…of you lying in my bed, on my pillow,” Akira murmured against Hikaru's lips, stroking him more firmly.

 

Hikaru gasped, back arching. Blind panic shot through him as he felt his friend trying to work his jeans down off of his hips with one hand. He had to get out of here!!

 

“Don't let Kota touch you,” Akira whispered near his ear, the fingers of the other boy's free hand lightly tracing over his collarbones.

 

“Too late!” Hikaru exclaimed, glad for the opening that would allow him to escape.

 

Akira's fingers stilled. “What do you mean?” his rival breathed, expression horrified.

 

“He has touched me,” Hikaru replied sharply.

 

But he regretted saying it as soon as he saw the effect the words had on Akira. Those aqua eyes were wide and full of pain, even shock.

 

But you don't love me, I know it, so don't look at me like that!

 

He shook himself mentally and grabbed his t-shirt, rolling out from under Akira. “Stop playing around, Akira,” he gritted out, throwing his shirt on as he made for the door.

 

 

 

_________________________________________________________________ _______

 

 

 

Akira recovered just in time to hear the door close. He leapt up, tearing through his apartment to burst through his front door and run after Hikaru.

 

“Hikaru!” he yelled, running to catch up. “Hikaru, I am serious!” he cried as the other boy began to run.

 

He followed determinedly. Hikaru was in no state to drive, and he wouldn't allow it, no matter how his rival felt about it. Akira took the stairs just as recklessly as the other.

 

What had happened? What had gone wrong? Hikaru had liked being touched by him, of that he was very certain. The high blush and physical reactions were very clear. But the other boy had said, `Stop playing around'. Did that mean that he suspected that Akira was doing this as entertainment without emotional attachment?!

 

“You idiot!” he yelled down the stairwell, barely concerned about the feelings of his neighbors or anyone else that might mind him yelling after midnight.

 

He pushed through the door at the bottom and was able to spot Hikaru - but halfway across the parking lot. The boy was way too fast. He might have to take up running just so he would have enough endurance to actually catch Hikaru.

 

To his relief, the other pro did not slow to get in his car, but kept right on running. The relief didn't last long, however. Where was the green-eyed boy going in the middle of the night without a car? Where could he run to?

 

“Hikaru!” he cried desperately, running harder. As he reached the sidewalk that ran along the street, he was forced to slow. His lungs were about to burst. He stopped completely after making it several yards down the sidewalk, figuring that he'd be no good to Hikaru if his heart burst. He simply couldn't make it.

 

Akira watched helplessly as Hikaru vanished into the night, still going as if he could run forever. He made a soft sound of frustration as the tears he'd suppressed welled up in his eyes.

 

They would not be together tonight. Maybe not ever.

 

And Kota had already touched his Hikaru. How much? How far? And did his rival like Kota's touch better than Akira's?

 

Akira hung his head and turned back towards his apartment building, walking slowly. He would try calling Hikaru's cell phone, if only to make certain that the other boy was okay.

 

 

 

_________________________________________________________________ _______

 

 

 

 

Hikaru ran until he thought he would pass out. Only then did he slow, throwing a look over his shoulder to be sure that he had really lost Akira. He noticed with relief that there was a convenience store just up ahead.

 

His body was also aching with desire for the aqua-eyed boy, which made it difficult to do anything, especially run. But the sheer panic helped.

 

What was he supposed to do now? He was shoeless and without a car. There had to be a bus stop somewhere nearby, but he didn't want to stumble around in the middle of the night looking for one. Besides, would they even allow him on without shoes?

 

He trudged across the deserted parking lot of the convenience store, a plan slowly forming in his head. If he could call Kota and ask to be picked up…but how to explain that he was shoeless and at the convenience store rather than Akira's apartment?

 

Perhaps he could play up his drunkenness and say that he had been hungry, and didn't want to put Akira out…and then that he missed Kota and decided he'd rather stay the night with him?

 

Hikaru arched a brow at the stupidity of the idea, but thought that he might be able to pull it off if he bought some ramen from the convenience store. He ducked his head guiltily at the thought of lying to Kota. There was also the slight complication of his omissions regarding what Akira really meant to him, and that Akira seemed…well, interested in him lately.

 

He pulled the door open and slipped down an aisle before the clerk could notice that he didn't have any shoes on and grabbed a couple of instant ramen cups. When the man turned away for a moment, he sidled up to the counter and deposited his items.

 

“Ah!” the clerk exclaimed in startlement, whirling to face Hikaru. “You surprised me! I thought it was my imagination that I'd heard someone come in. I didn't even see you.”

 

He smiled at the man. “Sorry about that.”

 

Hikaru took his phone out as the clerk rang him up. He dumped his several yen on the counter, scooped up his purchases, and darted out the door to dial Kota's number.

 

It rang several times, causing him to worry that perhaps he'd be waking his boyfriend up. He couldn't seem to recall Kota's work schedule.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Kota!” he exclaimed joyfully. Saved! “I didn't wake you, did I?”

 

“No, I go to work in the afternoon tomorrow. But I thought you'd be asleep at Akira's place by now…?” Kota's pleasant voice was laced with concern.

 

“Ah, well, about that. I got hungry and wandered down to the nice store on the corner here. I've had too much to drink, so I can't really drive anywhere, and I really want to see you. Really-really. In fact, I'd rather spend the night at your place than at Akira's.”

 

“Really?” Kota replied breathlessly, sounding enchanted.

 

Hikaru tucked his chin down, wincing at the fact that this was all in order to be rescued from Akira. And here his boyfriend was so charmed by it. It made him feel even scummier.

 

“Really,” he assured Kota with faux cheerfulness.

 

“You've never spent the night here before,” the man murmured.

 

“Nope, but I think it'd be nice. Will you come and pick me up?”

 

“Of course! I'll be right there, just tell me where you are.”

 

Hikaru had to walk out to the corner to inform Kota of his location, but after that, he had only to wait.

 

They hung up after a few more sentimental exchanges, and he dropped the phone back in his pocket, covering his eyes with one hand. “Oh, Kota, I'm such a jerk.”

 

He dropped his hand, staring out into the silent darkness. The sound of his cell ringing shattered his thoughts, and he hurriedly retrieved it from his pocket, peering down at the screen.

 

“Akira,” he muttered darkly, turning his phone off with a scowl. “I told you to stop fucking with me!”

 

Why couldn't the other boy just leave him in peace? There was no way he'd ever be able to give Kota his full attention while Akira was shining before him like some godforsaken beacon. Shining and beautiful, brilliant like a fiery star or a perfectly cut diamond. It made him just want to keep reaching out, reaching for it to take it into his hands.

 

“But you're not mine,” he murmured into the darkness, still staring down at his lifeless phone.

 

 

 

 

_________________________________________________________________ _______

 

 

 

 

“I'm not around right now, so leave a mess—Waya, stop it! Give it back!” Beep.

 

Akira took a deep breath, gathering his courage to respond to Hikaru's familiar, chirpy little voicemail message. “Hikaru…Hikaru, I am serious. I meant it. Please call me. You left your shoes here. Just call me and tell me that you're okay. I'm worried about you. I…”

 

He didn't have the courage to say it on the phone, after all. He hung up without telling the other boy how he felt.

 

He was already in his pajamas and lying in bed, but he doubted that he'd be able to sleep until he knew that Hikaru was all right.

 

 

 

_________________________________________________________________ _______

 

 

 

 

“So do you usually behave so strangely when drinking?” Kota teased, arching a brow at Hikaru as he drove them back to his apartment.

 

Hikaru laughed self-consciously, looking down. “Ah…I hope not. I am very impulsive, though.”

 

“Hmm, I know, but it's usually a good thing,” his boyfriend replied with a grin.

 

He rolled his eyes, remembering half a dozen times that it had not been a good thing. He was certain that Akira had every single instance catalogued… Hikaru steered his mind firmly away from the subject of his torment.

 

“Isn't Touya going to worry about you?” Kota asked.

 

“Um, no. I called him and told him and he was fine with it. He likes to be alone anyway.” Ugh, things were getting deep.

 

“Why don't you show me some of this Go of yours when we get to my apartment?” Kota suggested with a smile, sparing him a swift glance before returning his attention to the road.

 

Hikaru winced. “Ah, but I've been playing it all night, Kota! I don't think my fingers can even hold a stone right now! And my eyes are going to fall out of my head from withstanding Akira's death glare for hours! You don't know what he's like, Kota - he's got this laser beam focus. It drills into your skull!”

 

“I do know what the glares are like,” Kota replied, tone slightly annoyed.

 

Oops. “Right, of course you do!” Hikaru exclaimed brightly. “But you've never seen his game face. That's of an entirely different magnitude.”

 

“Does he always stare at you like that?” his boyfriend asked casually, seemingly disinterested.

 

Hikaru grinned, leaning back in his seat. “All the time. I'm surprised my eyes haven't been burned out. But let's not talk about Akira right now.”

 

“You brought him up,” Kota replied smoothly, not looking at him.

 

“Well, yeah, but that's because Akira and Go are like toast and jam. Or miso and tofu. Or—“ He was about to blithely continue on, but his words dried up when he saw that Kota was frowning at him.

 

Stern, dark eyes fixed on him for a heartbeat. “You do want to spend time with me, yes, Hikaru?”

 

He swallowed anxiously, forcing a smile. “Of course! I said so, didn't I?”

 

His boyfriend didn't reply.

 

Fortunately, they were turning in to Kota's apartment complex. If he had his way, they wouldn't need to talk. He didn't think he could bear the sexual frustration any longer. Akira worked over both his mind and his body every time! What was he supposed to do?

 

He was beginning to think that…perhaps things wouldn't work out with Kota. Whether or not Akira wanted him, he couldn't stop thinking about the other pro, and he was no fit companion for anyone in such a state.

 

 

 

 

_________________________________________________________________ _______

 

 

 

 

 

Hikaru turned the shower off and toweled himself lightly, rolling an idea over in his mind. Evaluating it. Deciding on a course of action.

 

He hung the towel back up and stepped out of the shower stall, letting himself out of the bathroom and into the darkness of Kota's room. Moving slowly, he found the door and opened it partway, slipping out into the living room to stand and stare at his boyfriend.

 

Kota didn't notice immediately, being engrossed in something that looked like a documentary.

 

Hikaru forgave him for that, especially since he was standing in the man's peripheral vision. “Kota,” he called softly.

 

His boyfriend glanced over, then did a double take. “Hikaru!” the dark-haired man gasped out, shielding his eyes. “What…what on earth…? Did you need something?”

 

“I do,” he admitted, watching Kota. Some corner of his mind was analyzing and filing away every response.

 

“What…might that be? A towel, perhaps?” Kota tried to smile, eyes still covered.

 

“I don't need a towel,” he murmured hoarsely. “I want to have sex. Now.”

 

“W-what?!” his boyfriend stammered, dropping his hands finally to stare. “Are you…are you serious, Hikaru? But you've never…”

 

“Yes, I want to.” He walked across the room towards Kota. Even though it was a relatively short distance, it felt like miles when crossed without a scrap of clothing on. Comfortable nudity was obviously not his strong suit.

 

Kota was staring at him with heated, adoring eyes the entire time.

 

As he came within range, the man's hands rose to rest lightly on his hips, and dark eyes rose to meet his. “You're certain?” Kota whispered, hands caressing his skin lightly, reverently. “It will probably be somewhat painful…”

 

Hikaru nodded, trying to ignore the anxiety building within him. What did it matter? His body was desperate, his heart was cold and Akira wasn't here.

 

More to the point, he no longer felt capable of dealing with his rival, and was terrified to hear the truth of what the other boy felt. He knew without a doubt that he couldn't handle hearing that they were just friends with the possibility of benefits. Wasn't it better not to hear it? Not to drive Akira away will harsh words, or anger or losing control?

 

He didn't think that he was capable of living without Akira anymore. They'd been `together' for so long. That was the worst of it. How could he keep the balance? What would keep Akira near him? Friendship? Love? Sex? Why didn't he know the answer?

 

What if Akira's interest in him now was only because he was focusing on someone else?

 

“Hikaru?” Kota asked quietly, squeezing his hips gently.

 

“Let's do it,” he repeated, gaze refocusing to stare into and through his boyfriend's dark eyes.

 

 

 

_________________________________________________________________ _______

 

 

 

 

Hikaru grimaced as he shifted on the bed. Kota had been right. It had hurt, but it had also been very enjoyable after the edge of the pain dulled. He'd been tense, unable to relax, but he had told his boyfriend to go on. To get on with it.

 

“You're so adorable,” Kota murmured, lightly running a hand along Hikaru's thigh.

 

“Mmm,” he responded, trying not to think of how it would have been if he'd only succumbed to Akira earlier tonight, to hell with feelings and thoughts and relationships. The familiar twinge of guilt came hard on the heels of those thoughts.

 

Dammit, I suck.

 

“It's too bad your backside is difficult to look at,” Kota continued coolly.

 

“Eh?” Hikaru responded, surprised, turning his head to meet the man's eyes. “What do you—“ he broke off, realizing suddenly what it was that his boyfriend must have seen.

 

“Yes, that tattoo,” Kota confirmed. “Just wondering why Touya's given name is permanently stamped there, that's all.”

 

“Oh…well. That.” He laughed self-consciously. That damned thing got him in more trouble…! “I was drunk one night, and Waya dragged me out to get a tattoo. The next thing I knew, I woke up with this. I really don't know anything else about it.”

 

Those dark eyes examined him, still slightly guarded. “Touya's not just a friend to you.” It wasn't a question.

 

Hikaru glanced away, staring at a framed picture of poppies hanging on the wall. “Uh…well, I liked him for a very long time, and realized it a couple of months ago, but he turned me down. So…that's not very much more than friends.”

 

“Hmm. I'm surprised that he turned you down with how I saw him act towards you.”

 

“Who knows with him,” Hikaru replied brusquely, annoyed with the line of questioning.

 

“I love you, you know,” Kota said quietly.

 

Hikaru held back a wince. He could feel dark eyes staring intently at him, waiting for some kind of sign. “A-ah…” What was he supposed to say to that?! “I…I care about you, too, but I'm not sure I know what love feels like…”

 

“As long as you don't love Touya, I'm sure things will work out well,” Kota said with a faint smile, laying a comforting hand on his arm.

 

Love Akira. Did he love Akira? Was that why everything hurt so much?

 

He smiled back, nodding dumbly, and cursed himself again. Perhaps he should avoid Akira and focus on Kota a little more. He was fueling his own obsession by spending too much time with the aqua-eyed boy. It made perfect sense.

 

But could he stay away from Akira for long enough?