by Angela
05-19-03
The apartment
reeked of beer and pumpkins, the latter mixed with the nauseating scent of
burned candles. It was a smell that
usually triggered that crazy old jack o’ lantern fear, but not this time. My mind was soft and mushy; I felt
protected, as though being passed-out-drunk next to Eiji were the safest place
in the whole city of New York. Later,
it was easy to blame the whole thing on the over-abundance of Budweiser
coursing through my veins, but deep down, I knew better. I was aware all along that I would’ve never
let my guard down to drink so much if it weren’t for how I felt about Eiji.
He was leaving in
less than twelve hours. No matter how
hard I tried to keep my focus on Arthur and my conference with Cain, my mind
always fell back to this fact.
He was watching me
with those heavy-lidded, exotic eyes, a tiny half-smile on his lips. I’d told him that his face was easy to read,
but that particular expression always stumped me; I wanted to know what was
going through his head when he looked at me like that. He looked content, almost happy. I found myself fiercely hoping that he never
turned that expression to anyone else.
“Why you look at me
like that?” He propped himself up on
one elbow, his smile widening. He took
a gulp of beer, his eyes not leaving mine.
“Like what?”
Eiji’s belated
sense of privacy usually stalled any direct questions he might ask, so I was
surprised when he pushed forward. “Like
you are trying to turn me inside out,” he said simply.
I almost blushed,
suddenly wondering if he could read me as well as I could read him. I combed my hair with my fingers, forcing my
smile to stay casual. I couldn’t tell
him that I was trying to imprint his face on my memory, that in just a few
hours he’d be on his way back to Tokyo and I’d be taking on Arthur.
We were lounging on
the floor, surrounded by empty beer cans and throw pillows. On the sofa, Kong and Bones snored heavily,
unconscious with food and drink. Eiji
lay on his side, his head propped up on one hand. He smiled, waiting for me to answer him. We’d covered a lot of topics already—his
lack of a girlfriend at home, my lack of girlfriends in general—but I’d been
careful to avoid anything that might provoke me into telling him about the
plane tickets in my coat pocket. I
wanted him to be safe, but I hadn’t deluded myself into believing that I wanted
him on the other side of the planet.
I wished I could
keep him safe by my side.
He was still gazing
at me so expectantly, I had to answer.
“I was wondering if you always look so sappy when you drink,” I answered
easily. “It could be dangerous, you
know, to look at another man like that.”
He colored deeply
and looked down at his fingers wrapped solidly around the can. We’d both had too much to drink—enough that
we’d passed through the silly stages an hour or more before. Now everything felt heady and serious with a
dizzying sense of urgency. I felt dead
sober except for the warmth in my stomach and the static fuzz in the background
of my mind.
“I do not look at
other men this way,” he said quietly.
“It is not the beer I drink. I
am not drunk.”
I knew better about
the alcohol, but I believed the rest. I
reached out and nudged his hand with my knuckles. He looked up at me, his dark eyes wide. His hair fell over his forehead and his lips parted in
surprise. The skin on my hand
tingled. My stomach lurched.
This wasn’t about
sex. I knew sex. After a while, I’d learned to take my
pleasure where I could find it, not letting Papa Dino or his cronies steal that
from me, but with Eiji, everything was different. I didn’t want to take from him, but I didn’t know how to
give. I wasn’t sure if I should be touching
him at all.
His fingers
uncurled from around the beer can, trembling as they moved to rest on my
wrist. He swallowed deeply, a shy smile
flickering and fading.
The alcohol hit me
when I kissed him. I closed my eyes
against the spinning room and braced one hand on Eiji’s shoulder to steady
myself. His mouth was soft—sweeter than
I remembered from that compulsory lip lock at the prison—and my insides
stirred. He leaned closer, his lips
moving and opening beneath me, and I could taste the bitter tang of beer on his
tongue and teeth.
I gripped the
fabric of his shirt at his shoulder, flexing my fingers until I touched the
hard smoothness of his collarbone beneath the stretched neck of his
sweatshirt. Eiji gasped, momentarily
breaking our kiss. I opened my eyes,
dizzily aware of his long lashes and the flush of his cheeks. A lump in my throat kept me from kissing him
again; Eiji made a strangled complaint before opening his eyes.
I let my hand slide
to cup the back of his neck. “You’re
drunk,” I protested softly, not wanting to stop but not wanting to continue if
there was any chance I was taking advantage.
Eiji kissed me
three times, softly. “I am no more
drunk than you,” he whispered. He
leaned back on the pillows and smiled.
My hand was caught
behind his neck, tangled in his soft hair.
I didn’t want to pull away. He
was amazing—dark and beautiful and gazing up at me with absolute trust. I leaned my forehead against his,
immediately aware of the warm smoothness of his skin beneath mine and the damp
pulse of his breath on my face. “Eiji .
. .” My voice cracked.
He slid his arms
around my shoulders and back, one hand moving beneath my t-shirt to trace my
spine. I lost my breath at his touch,
exhaling sharply and closing my eyes against the sensation that seemed to
radiate through me. He spoke to me in
soft Japanese, his fingers slowly exploring my back. I didn’t understand the words, but I didn’t need to. I opened my eyes again when he paused, not
surprised to see him watching me expectantly, wondering if I’d understood his
request.
I figured it out.
When we kissed
again it was with urgency. Eiji pulled
me until my full weight stretched out over his body, and between the exploring
hands and deep kisses, for a long time I lost track of what was going on. My brain was buzzing with the knowledge
that, for the first time, this was right.
Our bodies strained closer and closer, finding ways to fit against each
other until I was sure I’d never feel complete without him nearby.
It could have been
hours or just minutes later when Eiji hesitated. We were tangled together on the floor, shirtless. I kissed his neck and shoulder, leaving tiny
nips and bruises as I moved. He moaned,
craning his neck in an effort to give me more skin to touch. I realized I marking him as my territory the
way Golzine once marked me, but I was used to staking claims and protecting my
own—I didn’t want there to be any doubt that Eiji Okumura belonged to Ash Lynx.
His hands stroked
my chest, his shaking fingers dipping low around my navel. My whole body tingled as his rough
fingertips slid just below the waistband of my jeans. He clumsily worked at the button, his hands brushing against the
swelling hardness beneath the denim as he struggled. I forced myself to lie still, fighting the urge to push against
his pelvis, against the bulge that stretched his sweat pants. I was just reaching down to help him when
the button came loose, his breath exhaling in hot triumph against my chest.
But then he was
still. He leaned against me, unmoving,
his face against my chest and his breath coming hard and ragged. “Eiji?” I asked, stroking his black
hair. “Is this okay, Eiji?”
“It is okay,” he
answered at last. He turned his face up
to look at me. His eyes were bright and
his swollen lips trembled. He was nervous. “It is fine to do anything with you, Ash.”
It was close to one
in the morning. In less than eight
hours, he would be boarding a plane headed as far away from me as humanly
possible, and he didn’t even know it yet.
He was flushed and nervous, but trusting, not knowing that this first time
would also be the last. My stomach
suddenly hurt. Eiji deserved better.
I took a deep
breath, willfully moving my hands away from his bare skin. “Let’s wait,” I whispered. “We don’t have to rush. We don’t have to do anything.” I kissed him softly, somehow still amazed
that I could just lean down and do that.
I was lying, letting him believe that there would be time for this kind
of thing later. I felt like an asshole.
Eiji looked
confused. “You push me away?” he asked,
blinking. “I do something wrong?”
His uncertainty
made my insides quake. I wasn’t in the
best position to reassure him. I wanted
to do what was right for Eiji, whatever it took to keep him safe and out of harm—even
harm from me. At the same time, my
control was at its limit. My body
rebelled against my will to calm it, and all I really wanted was to show him a
hundred different kinds of pleasure, not even caring that Bones and Kong were
still asleep on the couch. I wasn’t
used to being out of control. I wasn’t
sure how to handle it.
I didn’t know what
to say. “It’s not that. I just—”
“You do not want me
hurt.” He reached for my face, pushing
my hair from my forehead. “I
understand. I do not want you hurt,
either.” For a moment I thought he
would kiss me again, but he just looked at me.
A tiny smile tugged the corners of his lips. “It is enough to be near.”
My chest
constricted. He wanted it just as much
as I did. He knew he could push past my
barriers, but he didn’t try. Eiji was a
better person than I’d ever be. “It’s
late,” I said finally. My voice was
gruff. “Wait here.”
I went to the
bathroom and splashed water over my face.
I let the faucet run until the water was icy cold—I splashed that down
my chest, letting some of it trickle down into my jeans. It was damned uncomfortable, but it
helped. In the bedroom I grabbed a new
shirt and pulled a blanket from my bed.
When I got back to
the living room, Eiji was sitting up, his arms wrapped around his knees. He looked young and vulnerable, and I hated
myself for making him feel uncomfortable.
He’d put his sweatshirt back on, and it looked like he’d straightened
his tousled hair with his fingers.
I turned off the
light, kicking a beer can out of my way.
“Time for bed,” I announced, tossing the blanket to him. I arranged a couple of pillows side-by-side
on the floor.
“Why not in
bedroom?” Eiji asked uncertainly. He automatically spread the blanket, making
a bed on the floor.
If he wanted to be
near me, that was the least I could give him.
“My bed’s too small for two,” I explained, stretching out on the
floor. I patted the pillow next to
me. It was hard to stay casual.
Eiji blushed, but
he lay down next to me.
We didn’t
speak. We barely moved. I was starting to wonder if this was a good
idea at all—just listening to his breathing was stirring my arousal. I had planned to stay close to him, maybe
even to tell him about the plane tickets and why I had to send him home, but I
knew the words wouldn’t come. For
almost two weeks I’d tried to tell him, but I didn’t know how. I wished he’d say something—something cute
to make us both laugh.
The clock on the TV
read half past one when he finally spoke.
“I know it is complicated,” he said softly. “I do not belong in your world.
You asked me to stay by you. I
do. I will as long as you want me.”
I wanted him by me
forever. But even more, I wanted him to
live his life without watching his back, without having to worry that one day
his life would be forfeit to payback or revenge. “I want to protect you,” I answered. He didn’t say anything, and after a while I wondered if I’d
spoken aloud or just in my head. I
shifted on the hard floor, surprised to bump against Eiji’s back. I pressed my back to his.
I heard his sigh
and imagined the smile that matched it.
I understood. He was right; it
was enough just to be near.
I lay awake long
after his breathing deepened into the regular rhythms of deep sleep. I wondered if he would hate me in the weeks
to come. I almost hoped he would—better
to be angry than to be hurt. Besides, I
already hurt enough for both of us.