Digimon Fan Fiction ❯ The Walls Between ❯ The All-Conquering ( Chapter 12 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

"Hikari would love that movie," said Daisuke, as he and Takeru passed a movie theatre on their way to the train station.

"Oh yeah?"

Takeru's mother had recently gotten guardianship of her sister's grandson, Takeru's cousin, while the child's own mother was ill with hepatitis and unable to care for him; Daisuke didn't know what had happened to the father, and it seemed impolitic to ask. Roku was in fourth grade and had joined the school basketball team on Takeru's suggestion, and so Takeru of course attended all of the games. Daisuke thought it was quite funny to watch small boys chase a basketball around, when the ball was practically bigger than they were, and conveniently forgot about doing that exact thing himself when he was that age.

"Yeah," said Daisuke. "Me and Ken saw it, and Ken cried at the end."

"Naw," said Takeru. "Ken?"

Daisuke nodded. The theatre was left behind. "That is a total chick flick, and he's a sucker for emotional crap like that. Hikari would love it."

Takeru made an assenting, considering sound, and was silent a moment. Then he said, "You know, I met this girl the other day, her name is Itsuko."

Casting a sidelong look at Takeru, Daisuke said, "Okay ... and?"

"And ... I think she's really cool. She has this amazing collection of manga and anime, like you wouldn't believe. And a lot of it is the good stuff too, not all that girly crap. And oh, Daisuke, she is so pretty."

"So what are you saying, you're breaking up with Hikari?"

"No, of course not." Takeru stuck his hands in his pockets and skipped sideways a little around a street vendor.

"So you're cheating on her?" Daisuke laughed a little, not because he found that amusing, but because the idea of cheating on Hikari was just so outrageous.

"No! Well ... It's not really cheating, you see, because it's not like I'm married to Hikari." Takeru took on a casual, disarming tone, the sort of tone that Daisuke usually associated with someone trying to justify his actions. Well, anyone other than Ken, that is; he never sounded like that when trying to justify himself. "We're not even engaged, and this isn't high school where girls think you're 'going steady' on the basis of one date with them. I can see other people if I want, and so can she."

Turning this over in his mind a little, Daisuke walked alongside his friend in silence for a few seconds before saying, "Hikari is going to kill you if she finds out."

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her. Or me. You're not going to tell her, are you?"

Daisuke shook his head. "And get myself involved in your bullshit? No way. I've got plenty of my own bullshit to worry about." Not to mention the fact that it would be hypocritical of him, when he'd done more or less the same thing with Miyako. Daisuke tried to avoid hypocrisy.

"Yeah, speaking of that, how's your dad?"

"He's okay. Mom says he wants to take up racquetball."

"No way. Isn't that dangerous?"

Daisuke shrugged. "No more dangerous than it would be for you or me, apparently."

"I don't get that."

"I don't either, but if it makes him happy, I'm all for it."

"Good point."

They reached the train station and went inside to purchase tickets. Daisuke's train was due in a few minutes, much sooner than Takeru's train heading in the opposite direction down the line, so they went to wait near the gate.

"Man, I don't know how you put up with shit like that," said Takeru, picking up the conversation again as if there had been no break. "Anyone did that to me, I'd be gone in a heartbeat."

Daisuke leaned against a concrete support pillar and eyed his friend sidelong. "You've never really been in love either."

"Sure I have. I'm in love right now!"

"With Hikari or Itsuko?"

"Mmmm." Takeru turned around, spinning in a circle in place. "Both?"

"Yeah, right." Daisuke stuck out a foot in an effort to trip the blonde, but Takeru saw it coming and hopped back out of the way.

"You're not getting me on my back today!"

Laughing a little, Daisuke said, "How many times do I have to tell you that you're not my type? Quit flattering yourself, you're ugly!"

"I am not ugly! Check out this hair."

"You're an Ishida-wannabe. Admit it."

"Sure." Takeru grinned. "No problem. I'm an Ishida-wannabe."

"Damn." Daisuke tried to think of a new way to insult Takeru, but before he could, the arrival of his train was announced. "So hey, we still getting together this Saturday?"

"Absolutely. Unless Itsuko says yes when I ask her out."

"What? You mean you'd rather go out with a girl than with me?" Daisuke feigned hurt, which was difficult, because he felt like grinning.

"Hell yeah. Remember, I'm not your type."

"Shit, I knew that was going to come back to haunt me. Well, if you wanna cancel, call me this time, so I don't have to wait on you for an hour and kick your ass when I finally catch up to you."

"Yeah, whatever. See you later!"

Ken arrived home early, sooner than Daisuke expected, and it was with some bewilderment that he came out of the kitchen to see his lover taking off his shoes in the foyer. "What are you doing home?" he asked, somewhat stupidly. "I thought you were taking out a client tonight."

"They had to postpone until next week. I tried to call you and let you know, but your phone was turned off again."

Daisuke made a little noise in the back of his throat to express his aggravation, which was not really directed toward Ken, but rather toward the universe in general. "Well, shit. I'm only making enough dinner for me." He chose not to bring up the fact that the apartment phone worked perfectly, and that Ken could have called that one instead.

"That's all right," said Ken. Shoes and jacket off, he approached Daisuke and slid his arms around the shorter man's shoulders. "How was your day?"

Shrugging, Daisuke leaned his cheek against Ken's chest. There was something alien about this, that he couldn't name. "Okay. Yours?"

"It was fine until those people cancelled the meeting. Hachirobei-san was beside himself, he was sure he'd done something to scare them away."

"Was it his fault?"

"Of course not." Ken's hand moved through Daisuke's hair, and Daisuke pulled away to go back into the kitchen.

"Here, you can have the fish. I'll make more for myself later." He did not look back at Ken, although he felt it when Ken came to lean against the door frame at the entrance to the kitchen. There was silence then, while Daisuke checked the oven and pulled out the baked fish when he found that it was done. When Daisuke took the rice off the stove and turned off the fire, Ken cleared his throat.

"Did you have fun with Takeru-san?"

"Sure." Daisuke shrugged. "We went to his cousin's basketball game, and they lost so the kid was all upset. Takeru wants to take him to the festival on Saturday."

A pause. "You're going to a festival on Saturday?" asked Ken finally.

"Yeah. Takeru thought it might cheer the little guy up. He might back out, though. He's found another girlfriend."

Ken was quiet for a little while, as Daisuke transferred some rice to a bowl and slid the fish out on top of it. He offered this to Ken, who took it in silence. Daisuke then opened the refrigerator, wondering what he could make for himself.

"What do you and Takeru talk about?" asked Ken finally, as Daisuke shifted through the vegetables and meat that he'd bought the day before.

"Nothing much," said Daisuke. "Just wasting time, mostly."

"You found out he has a new girlfriend. Surely you two must talk about something."

"Yeah, well, it's not like we're debating the mysteries of the universe. We just joke around, and he tells me about his stupidity with Hikari, and I tell him about my dad, and that's it. I told you, it's nothing."

"What does he think about that?"

Closing the refrigerator door, Daisuke put his back to the appliance and frowned at Ken. "What's with the interrogation? And eat your dinner, or else give it back."

Ken held out the bowl, and Daisuke took it back and picked up a pair of chopsticks to eat it. He ignored the slight pang of disappointment, that Ken didn't want to eat something that he'd made; it was rendered easier to ignore by the fact that he was really hungry. "I'm just interested in you," said Ken softly.

Between mouthfuls, Daisuke said, "We just talk, okay, about nothing. We talked about the basketball game, we talked about Hikari and how dead she is going to kill him if she finds out that he's seeing someone else, we talked about my dad and Takeru said that he wouldn't have put up with you nearly as long as I have, and then he acted like I wanted him and I told him he was ugly and not my type. Are you satisfied?"

Ken watched him eat for a few seconds, then left the kitchen to sit at his computer in the front room. Feeling vaguely disgruntled about the exchange, Daisuke finished the fish and rice standing up, washed the dishes, and then moved out of the kitchen himself. As he did, Ken turned from the computer and said something that stopped Daisuke in his tracks.

After the statement succeeded in working into Daisuke's mind, he asked, "Run that by me again?"

Ken repeated himself. Daisuke turned around to face the other man and said, "Excuse me? You what?"

"How many times do you want me to say it?"

"Until it starts to make some fucking sense!" Fury quickly warmed Daisuke's skin, a fury that he was able to summon all too quickly around Ken since the incident with his father. "You want me to stop seeing Takeru? I'm not seeing him to begin with!"

"Well, what do you call going to a festival with him?"

"I call it fucking cheering up his fucking kid cousin! What the hell is wrong with you?"

Ken's expression didn't change, and he didn't raise his voice to match Daisuke's, but when he spoke again there was an edge to the words. "Takeru is using you, Daisuke. I'm sorry that you can't see that, but he is." The light caught the lenses of his glasses, and for a moment rendered him eyeless.

"What the hell are you talking about? He's just a friend!" Rage flushed Daisuke's ears with a high-pitched humming sound, and his emotions reacted immediately to everything Ken said in his damnably calm tones. Total disbelief had taken the bottom out of his stomach thirty seconds ago. The world skewed.

"He's using you," said Ken again, more forcefully this time, the light sliding away to reveal again the dark eyes that Daisuke loved. "He's using you and I won't stand for it."

"Using me for what?" The words were out before Daisuke could think of the purpose of them. What good did it do to argue with Ken, after all?

"You're both using each other, really. I can forgive you for it, though, because I don't care about Takeru."

"I am not!" Ken didn't reply to this immediately, so after two heavy breaths, he continued, "Takeru is just my friend. I like hanging out with him, I enjoy his company ..."

Ken interrupted coldly. "You enjoy talking to him about Hikari, and being close to her through him."

Daisuke blinked, completely taken aback by the sudden shift in topic. Ken continued, ruthlessly, each word like another stone. "It was never a secret to me that you loved her. You've always loved her and you always will, and the only reason you're with me is because you can't have her." The bitterness that twisted the final word was searing; not even Daisuke's rage protected him from it. He wondered how long Ken had felt this way.

"That's not true," said Daisuke, half-heartedly. His anger was not quite gone, but was diminished by Ken's palpable pain.

"It is, and you fucking know it. I started to date Hikari because she was the closest I could get to you, you know that? She was like an artifact, a connection that had once known Daisuke. And that's what Takeru is to you."

Daisuke opened his mouth to deny it, but nothing came out. Was this true? He did enjoy hearing about what the other Chosen were up to these days, and Takeru always seemed to know what everyone was doing. It was only because of Takeru that Daisuke knew of Mimi's new job, Iori's financial problems, and the birth of Taichi's second child (a family scandal according to Takeru, as the mother of the new daughter was not Sora). These were the kinds of things that Miyako had always known, and although Daisuke didn't like to admit it, the kinds of things he enjoyed hearing.

And, although he made it a policy never to offer advice on how Takeru should run his love life, he admitted that the idea of Hikari being hurt by Takeru seeing another girl behind her back was deeply unsettling. Was this why he enjoyed spending time with Takeru, someone he'd never much cared for as a boy?

Ken must have seen the confirmation in Daisuke's expression, because he said, more gently now, "You know it's true. He's using you too, Daisuke."

"For what?" asked Daisuke again, but more quietly this time. Wanting an answer this time.

Ken shrugged a little. "My guess would be for a number of things. To get back at me would be a big one. Takeru hates me, you know."

"He doesn't hate you," said Daisuke automatically, but his mind flicked back to what Takeru had said earlier that day. Man, I don't know how you put up with shit like that. Anyone did that to me, I'd be gone in a heartbeat. Diplomatic words of disapproval.

"Of course he does. He's always hated me for ... what I did. Back then." Ken glanced away. "He's never forgiven me."

"Don't be stupid," said Daisuke, unsure of himself now. The idea that he still loved Hikari felt uncomfortably accurate; it fit too well and explained too much. Were Ken's conclusions about Takeru as deadly?

The chill bitterness was back in Ken's voice when he said, "I know what you're going to say, that I'm jealous. You're damned right I am. I'm jealous that he's using you the way he is, pretending to be your friend, and trying to turn you against me in order to hurt me, and that you let him. I don't want you to see him anymore."

Silence then. They stared at each other for a long moment. Daisuke didn't want to believe this, but really ... why else would someone like Takeru want to hang out with him? He'd never put much thought into it once Takeru's curiosity about his sexuality was sated. Eventually, Ken softly began to speak again.

"I'm sure Takeru would like nothing better than to see you leave me. And there's nothing that drives a knife into me like knowing that you're still thinking about Hikari while you're with him."

"I don't think about her," said Daisuke. His annoyance, having gone away in his shock, came back at the accusation.

Ken just shrugged a little and turned back to the computer. "I don't like that he spends time with you for ulterior motives. Nobody deserves your time if they are taking it for reasons unrelated to you."

Daisuke frowned at the back of Ken's head for a little while; then, hurt and irritated, he stalked off into the bedroom to flop on his belly on the bed. He didn't love Hikari ... Ken didn't know what he was talking about. He wanted Hikari to be happy, true. He liked to hear what she was up to these days. That didn't mean he loved her, though ... did it?

He'd loved her once. It had been hard, realizing that she didn't love him in return and never would, but he'd had Ken to comfort him with smoky kisses and fellatio in the dark. Ken made it easier - here was someone who did want him, even if Hikari did not, and even if it was somewhat weird to be sexually desired by his best friend. He'd gotten over all of that a long time ago, though ... he'd thought.

"I'm sorry," said Ken from the doorway. Daisuke didn't bother to turn his head to look.

"Liar."

"You would have figured it out eventually anyway," said Ken.

"Whatever. I'm not in love with her, you know."

Silence, except for the soft sounds of Ken moving closer, and the faint whistles from the city that surrounded them. A moment later, Daisuke felt hands move soothingly across his back. "No. You love her, but you're not in love with her."

This distinction eased away some of Daisuke's rebellion against the notion. Yes. He could agree that he loved Hikari, as long as the love implied was not the romantic sort. She was the symbol of all that was perfect in his life, and simultaneously all that was wrong with perfection. His adoration was a distant and pure emotion.

Maybe he really was using Takeru to connect in some indirect way to Hikari.

He rolled over onto his back, looking up and through the darkness of Ken's hair as his lover's hand continued to rub gently across his chest. "I'm just concerned about you," said Ken finally, his voice very soft.

"I'm concerned about me too," said Daisuke.

Daisuke poured all of his smoldering anger and unfocused loathing into whipping the spices into the hot soy sauce that he would need later for the sansai okowa that was the house special that night. The sauce was not boiling, but it was close to it, and so naturally Daisuke's violent carelessness splattered the scalding fluid up onto his hand. Long before the pain registered enough to give his brain veto power, he had whisked his hand back out of harm's way and let out a lurid curse.

"Motomiya!" came sharply from his boss, who happened to be passing by at the time and who did not find Daisuke's tendency to swear at all amusing.

"Sorry," Daisuke mumbled, sucking on the back of his hand. The damage was done, and the burns were numb with painful warmth. He moved the sauce off the fire so it wouldn't scald and then went to run a bit of cold water over his hand.

"You all right there?" asked Yoshino over his shoulder.

"Yeah." With his hand, and his temper, cooled somewhat, Daisuke returned to the stove to check if the sauce had been ruined. It wasn't, so he moved it back onto the fire.

He didn't understand this at all. He hadn't ever actually agreed to stop "seeing" Takeru, although Ken seemed to be satisfied with his promise to "think about it." He was thinking about it all right, and becoming more and more angry, the more thought he put into it. Yeah, maybe Ken was right. Maybe he and Takeru really were just using each other. That didn't mean that Takeru was using Daisuke to get back at Ken for something, and it didn't mean that mutual using was a bad thing. If they were both getting what they wanted, was that so wrong? Daisuke was inclined to think not.

It was enough to make Daisuke seriously consider leaving Ken. He saw Ken's manipulations clearly, and the jealousy had finally come out. It had stayed buried for so long he'd dared to consider it gone altogether, but here it was again, settling over him like a smothering blanket. Daisuke knew what that jealousy could do to him. He'd been through it once, allowed himself to become a nervous wreck who didn't dare leave the apartment unless escorted, for fear of invoking the disapproval of his lover. He wasn't going to do that again; he would tear out his heart and walk out of Ken's life before that happened.

Wouldn't he?

Just the thought of coming home to another place, a place that wasn't filled with Ken's presence, was almost physically painful. His anger draining, Daisuke's throat closed up a little as he stirred the sauce and thought about Ken. Ken's body, Ken's eyes, Ken's laughter, Ken's mouth, Ken's long fingers and his passion and his cock that could bring Daisuke more pleasure than anything else he knew ...

"Stop it," he muttered, because he could feel himself getting hard and that wasn't going to help anything. There was no way he could survive being shattered by Ken a second time. There was no reason why he should have to try. As tempting as it was to just ignore Ken's edicts ... or to accept them and give up his soul for a second time ... he knew he couldn't survive that again. This time, Ken would destroy him once and for all, and it was up to Daisuke himself to prevent it.

Maybe I'm overreacting.

Daisuke wondered if he was. Was the danger to himself that great? Was he not strong enough to keep a good sense of self through Ken's personality flaws? Maybe he shouldn't have to struggle against Ken's jealousy, but did that mean it was impossible?

Wasn't Ken worth it? His lover's last words to him last night had been the breaker, really. I need you, he'd said, just before leaving Daisuke alone and putting some cool distance between them. It was nice to be needed, very nice indeed. Miyako ... now, Miyako might have loved Daisuke, but she hadn't needed him. She hadn't despaired for him. Her passions lay elsewhere, and her attachment to Daisuke was loose and casual for all its strength.

Daisuke took the sauce off the heat and checked the rice. He knew what Ken really needed, of course, namely to know that he wasn't alone and wouldn't be abandoned. That had always been Ken's fear, after all, and Daisuke believed that this was the reason behind much of what Ken did.

In fact, now that he thought about it, Ken had as much as told him so once, many months ago. Daisuke began to slice a pile of matsutake for soup and tried to recall to mind what exactly Ken had said; the exact words escaped him, but he had the gist after a few minutes. They'd been talking about Veemon, and Wormmon, and somehow Ken had managed to admit in a roundabout way what he needed.

He needs to need me. To know that I'll accept his need. Wormmon had understood this, Daisuke realized suddenly. Through all the abuse, all the tears and self-hatred, Wormmon had stayed with Ken and endured. Ken had depended upon Wormmon to always be there, and Wormmon always was. And now he depends upon me.

The idea softened Daisuke somewhat. He felt very warm, almost glowing for a few minutes while he sliced, knowing that he was at the center of Ken's world. The feeling did not last, though.

When his break came, Daisuke washed his hands and walked over to the wall phone. He stared at it a few minutes before he managed to work up the nerve to pick it up and dial the number he wanted. When the phone was actually answered, he almost hung up.

Courage.

"Yeah, hey. It's Daisuke. No, no, don't hang up!"

It took courage to approach Ken that evening. They came home separately, Daisuke first and then Ken, and did not speak to each other. It was as if they were separate people, living in the same space by coincidence and determined to give each other polite distance. The chilly silence between them made Daisuke want to cry, in a way, but of course he didn't. He simply suffered through the blank ache in his chest for a couple of hours, until he figured out what it was about.

Once he did, he fished the remote control out of the cushions of the couch and turned the television off. It was ridiculous for him to spend the evening pretending that Ken wasn't right there, working away at the computer with his damnable sexy glasses on, occasionally consulting a manual on the desk with his long fingers and serious expression. The hair at the nape of his neck begged to be moved aside, and Daisuke rested his chin on his hand and contemplated doing just that.

Eventually, Ken noticed, and gave him a questioning sideways glance. Daisuke just smiled a little.

"What?" asked Ken, returning to his perusal of the book.

"I'm thinking of distracting you."

"You're already distracting me. I thought we had a nonverbal agreement to ignore each other for a few days."

"I don't recall agreeing to that," said Daisuke. A pang went through him, and he cherished it until it passed. When it did, he stood up and walked over to stand behind Ken's chair, brushing his hands through the long fringe of hair and over his lover's neck, the way he wanted. Ken stiffened under his touch.

"What are you doing?"

"Seducing you. Are you going to fight me?" Daisuke leaned down to kiss the side of Ken's throat, and although Ken reached up to grasp his hand, the other man didn't pull away.

Sounding slightly out-of-breath, Ken said, "Daisuke, about yesterday ..."

"Shut up," muttered Daisuke, turning the chair around so that he could sit down, straddling Ken's lap and facing him. "I don't want to talk about it."

"But we have to ..."

"No. We don't." Daisuke used a handful of blue-black hair to yank Ken's head back so that he could lick and suck on his throat; Ken groaned and kneaded Daisuke's thighs and hips with his hands.

Why couldn't it be like this always? Just finding pleasure in each other's company, each other's bodies, without any complications? Daisuke rocked slowly against Ken, loving the friction between their clothed erections, loving the scent and taste of Ken's skin and the strength of the muscles beneath it. Ken declined to continue insisting on conversation, and that was just fine with Daisuke.

He took his time, unbuttoning Ken's shirt one by one and pausing after each button to tease. Once he had the garment open, he hiked himself up his lover's body to kiss him, running his hands across Ken's chest and flanks for a little while before burying his fingers in the beautiful silky hair. Ken held him close, whimpering a little (perhaps in surprise at the sudden sexual assault), and panted deeply when Daisuke released his mouth in order to shift his attention elsewhere.

Daisuke drank in everything that was Ken, drowning in his love for this frustrating, dangerous man. Ken's long bones, strength of his wrists and slenderness of his fingers as he stroked Daisuke's back and waist. The masculinity of his scent. The sound of his deep breaths and the tiny moans he made when Daisuke touched him just so. The texture of his hair, as soft as nightfall. Unhurried, Daisuke accepted it all as it came.

He kissed Ken's shoulders, cataloguing the way bones fit together, the way tendons and ligaments roped them, the way muscles and skin overlaid the whole. He spent perhaps thirty seconds just pressing Ken's left shoulder this way and that; then, overcome with desire, he resumed raking his teeth over the pale throat thrown back for him. Never did he stop moving his hips against Ken's, electrified by the tantalizing hints of pleasure that brushed over his nerves with every motion. He wished this could last forever.

Presently, the two of them moved to the floor with only a minor awkwardness dividing their enjoyment of each other. Ken pressed Daisuke on his back immediately, hungrily devouring with all the ferocity that Daisuke had aroused in him. Permitting this for the moment, Daisuke closed his eyes and pushed Ken's shirt off of him blind, while Ken all but tore Daisuke's off in order to get at his chest and nipples. Daisuke felt his lips curving a little as he was mauled. There was considerable attraction in this, in having Ken shed all pretexts of control and release the iron grip that he kept on himself.

He needs me.

When Ken slipped Daisuke's pants and underwear down over his hips, Daisuke opened his eyes with the intention of taking control again, but before he could Ken's hot mouth closed over his cock. The words died, unsaid, in the moan of pleasure this elicited, and Daisuke closed his eyes again. His fingers tangled in Ken's hair as if by themselves; he was unable to help a slight thrust upward toward the heat and moisture and writhing tongue that enveloped him. Ken responded with a firm grasp on his hips and a little weight on his thighs, effectively holding Daisuke down to be sexually tormented. With his pelvis trapped, Daisuke could do nothing for quite some time but groan and softly beg for the release, and helplessly twist his lover's hair.

As orgasm approached, Ken drew back, no longer sucking at all but only licking the very tip of Daisuke's penis, exposed from his foreskin by his erection. This was almost unbearable, and Daisuke writhed and clutched Ken's hair so tightly that Ken was forced to grasp his wrists and hold those down as well. Completely restrained now, Daisuke gasped his slow way to climax, struggling against the hands holding him; he wanted to come, and he wanted to come now. Ken was merciless, though, and teased him into it, causing Daisuke's world to turn white for an eternity before it all rushed out in a spasm that left him weak, and as bright as morning.

He lay still with his eyes closed, his skin throbbing in time with his heartbeat. Peripherally aware that Ken had left for another room, he couldn't bring himself to care until his lover returned and he was gently undressed the rest of the way and rolled onto his side.

He moaned a soft, "Yes," when he felt Ken lubricate him, and again as warm, hard flesh pressed against him. Raising his knee to make it easier, Daisuke was soon held that way as Ken rested on one hip behind him and slowly began to thrust. Daisuke arched with each motion, his eyes still closed so that he could better feel every touch on his skin, every breath that Ken took. Every thud of his heart.

Connected, they moved together. No words were necessary - Daisuke knew his lover's body, and knew his own to be similarly understood. The plateau of pleasure that he'd reached with orgasm was held for him, supported by the continued stimulation of sex, spiced with Ken's heavy, impassioned breaths in his ear. He realized, once his head had cleared again somewhat, that Ken was taking his time with this, not rushing hard toward his own peak as was his usual wont after Daisuke had come. He played with Daisuke's body as he fucked him, and Daisuke allowed this because his arousal had never completely gone away, and so when Ken finally did come, Daisuke came again with him at almost the same moment.

The floor was a mess where they lay, but neither of them cared. Daisuke twisted around after Ken withdrew from him, looking at the dark eyes and dark hair and skin like nacre; at some point, Ken had taken off his glasses.

Love me, said the anxiety in Ken's eyes.

"I love you," Daisuke murmured. "Always remember that."

Ken smiled, just a little.

The next evening, Ken arrived home a bit late because he'd detoured to a vendor's office on the way. This vendor, like all vendors, sought to bribe him with minor offerings. Most presented him with free software, mouse pads, key chains, or pens. On one memorable occasion, he'd been given a small "pet computer bug" cunningly fashioned from a microchip and bubble eyes and a strip of plastic for a tail, enclosed in a brass and wood cage. This particular vendor, however, had offered tickets to a rock concert instead, the appearance of a popular band from Canada that would only be giving three performances in all of Japan.

Ken had at first turned them down and made a note that the company was needlessly desperate, but upon reflection had decided that perhaps Daisuke would like to go. So he had called the salesman who had first offered the tickets in order to accept them, and had need to go pick them up. Since Daisuke had apparently forgiven him, he could afford to be generous in return.

He was whistling when he opened the door to the apartment and called out that he was home, but the silence that returned to him as he kicked off his shoes made him frown. Daisuke should have been home by now. He peered first around the wall into the kitchen, then went to the bedroom to see if his lover was maybe taking a nap.

The closet door was open. Daisuke's clothes were not within.

Nor were they within the drawers when Ken checked there. His bonsai tree was gone from the balcony, and the photographs that he kept on the shelves had left only small, dust-free shadows behind.

Ken searched further.

There was no note.

The emptiness screamed within him, and Ken collapsed to the floor in the middle of the front room, sobbing.