Living Different Lives: Part I [Katakana Asylum]
Omi fidgeted nervously in the kitchen, keeping one eye on the oven timer and the other on the pot on the stove, to make sure it didn't boil over. He'd spent most of an hour laboriously searching the net for a recipe that would be easy to make, but taste good. He'd finally settled on baked salmon over rice, something that looked similar enough to Japanese food that they'd like it, but different enough to add some variety to their diet.
He wasn't even sure why he was going to so much effort. Sure, they desperately needed a change from the take-out they ordered every night, and it wasn't like any of the others could really cook. Aya could follow a recipe in his usual methodical manner, but he rarely took the time to bother. And Youji and Ken kept trying to skip steps from laziness or impatience, respectively. Still, why should Omi be the one to go to so much trouble?
Especially since it was just he and Ken at home tonight. Youji had a date that promised to keep him out until midnight, at least; Aya had gone looking for his missing sister, curtly informing the two younger boys not to expect him back before morning. Omi wasn't really certain what Aya expected to accomplish by himself that the police couldn't do, but he could see how much Aya needed to be doing SOMEthing, so he said nothing.
Then again, the fact that he and Ken were alone tonight might have something to do with why he was making a mess of the kitchen to make them a real meal. Omi felt his heart skip a beat, and pressed the back of his hand against his cheek to try to cool the sudden blush that sprang into being. Something very odd had been happening between Omi and Ken lately. Somewhere along the line, their usual friendly banter had turned just the slightest bit intimate. At some point, without either of them really realizing it, the teasing had taken on a hint of sexual overtones.
And then, last week when they were alone in the back of the shop replanting seedlings, Ken had done something very strange. He'd leaned over to wipe off a smudge of dirt Omi had just left on his own face, laughing at Omi's carelessness. That in itself wasn't odd. What was odd was the way the laughter had faded from his face the closer he'd come, and how the brush of his thumb had turned into something more, leaving him cupping Omi's face with his hand. And then he'd done the strangest thing of all - he'd leaned in and brushed his lips over Omi's with breathtaking tenderness.
It had only lasted for a fraction of a second, the contact gone so quickly Omi wasn't entirely certain he hadn't imagined it. Ken had turned bright red and mumbled something about helping Aya up front, and bolted. Omi had remained unmoving among the flowers for a good five minutes, gaping after his best friend.
Now, Omi wasn't as completely innocent as the others supposed. He WAS an eighteen-year-old boy, after all, with the normal urges and hormones that entailed. He'd spent his share of lunch-hours in the locker room with the other boys in his class, looking with fascination through someone's father's collection of 'dirty' magazines. What had confused him then, and still confused him now, was how the other boys could find such images appealing. In fact, he wondered how they could find girls appealing at all!
Omi knew that he was the strange one, being more attracted to his gorgeous housemates than to the girls that flocked around him in the flower shop. But he'd dealt with his uncertainties over it a long time ago, and accepted the fact that he was unlikely to ever end up having a girlfriend of any kind. So when Ken had initiated that abortive kiss, he'd been less shocked at his own reaction then at the idea that KEN shared his forbidden fascination.
Since that day Ken had pretty much been avoiding him, or at least avoiding being alone with him. Omi figured that his friend probably thought he was disgusted, and didn't want to have to face any recriminations. He smiled brightly. Little did Ken realize how very much Omi wanted him to do it again.
So, this dinner. Hopefully Ken would take it as a peace offering, and open up to him a little. Omi had been afraid that Ken might take off somewhere as soon as the shop closed, but the weather had worked in his favour, starting a thunderous downpour just an hour before their shift ended. So Ken wasn't likely to leave the apartment, especially with the incentive of a European soccer game that was being televised tonight, which he'd been looking forward to for weeks.
Ken wandered into the kitchen just as Omi was laying the salmon fillets over the rice on two plates. He blinked twice, staring at the food Omi'd prepared. "Na, Omittchi, what's all this?"
Omi flushed slightly, and twisted a dishtowel between his hands, nervous now that the moment of truth was here. "I - I thought maybe we could use a change from take-out," he said shyly. When Ken continued to stare and say nothing, he deflated a bit. "If you don't want any, that's okay. I'll just wrap it up, and..."
Ken caught his hand as he reached down to take away the second plate, and smiled at him. Omi's heart stopped in his chest for a long moment at the sight of it. He knew Ken thought he wasn't much in the looks department beside Aya and Youji, but if he only knew how his smile could light up a room...
"It looks great, Omi," Ken said softly. "I just wondered why you went to so much trouble. God knows I'm getting tired of ramen and pizza." He hesitated, then added, "Do you want to eat it out in the living room? The game's on in a few minutes and I, uh, I wouldn't mind some company..."
Omi nodded, smiling back at him, and they took their plates out to the main room. Ken turned on the wide-screen TV - Youji's contribution - and flipped to the sports channel. They both settled into the soft leather of the couch to eat their dinner.
An hour later the dirty dishes were stacked on the coffee table before them, and they were curled up together, cuddling. Omi had hesitantly moved so that he was resting up against Ken's side, and Ken had equally hesitantly lifted his arm to drape it over Omi's shoulder.
Now they were both paying more attention to each other's warmth and breathing than to the game. This position felt natural to Omi, as though he'd been perfectly formed to fit up against Ken's side like this.
"Omi," Ken's voice was a quite breath against his cheek, as the older boy looked down at his friend's head resting on his shoulder. "About what happened, last week..."
Omi raised his head so he could see Ken's face, breath catching in anticipation. "Hai?"
"You're... you're not mad at me?"
Omi had to smile at that. "Do I seem like I'm mad at you, Ken-kun?" he asked with his best innocent tone of voice.
"N-no..." Ken drew the word out until it was a question in and of itself. Omi decided to put him out of his misery.
"I liked it," he confided softly. He felt Ken tense slightly against him. "I... was wondering if maybe you'd do it again?"
"Omi..." There was a mixture of wonder and excitement in Ken's voice as he cupped Omi's cheek with his free hand, echoing the gesture he'd made last week. "Are you... are you really sure? I mean..."
Omi hushed him with two fingers on his lips. "I'm sure, Ken-kun," he affirmed. Ken grinned against his fingers, and opened his mouth enough to draw the tips inside, biting down gently. Omi gasped a little at the feeling, then gasped again as a rough, wet tongue swept against the sensitive pads. Ken released his fingers from his lips, and he brought them down to clutch at the older boy's shirt.
"Omi..." Whatever else he'd meant to say was lost against Omi's lips as he leaned down to claim a kiss. This time it was firm and insistent, nothing like the tentative brush in the shop. Omi kissed him back shyly, not entirely certain what he was supposed to be doing.
There was a strange, tense feeling developing in his stomach, making his nerves jump every time Ken moved against him. It wasn't an entirely pleasant sensation, and Omi wondered if he was doing something wrong. He tensed as Ken swept his tongue out to touch his lips just as he'd touched the tips of his fingers. He knew he was supposed to open his lips now, but the thought was disturbing. He pulled back slightly.
"Ken..."
"It's okay, Omi," Ken reassured him. "I won't do anything you're not ready for, I promise. If you want me to stop doing something, just say so and I will. Okay?" There was an intense light burning in Ken's eyes, turning the normal emerald a strange shade of blue-green. It was unsettling, the depth of feeling in that gaze, and Omi nodded reluctantly.
Ken kissed him again, not trying to get entry this time. Omi relaxed marginally into the embrace. This wasn't so bad - in fact it was sweet, and the knot in his stomach started to dissolve. Then Ken pulled away from his lips and trailed kisses down over his cheek, to the column of his neck. Omi gasped and tensed, the knot coming back ten-fold. Ken was laying a line of sharp nips and soothing kisses over the sensitive skin along his jaw, bringing a rush of sensations that Omi KNEW he didn't like.
"Ken!" he protested, bringing his hands up to his friend's shoulder. But Ken apparently took the exclamation as one of pleasure, because Omi could feel him smile against his neck.
"Just relax, Omittchi," he murmured, pulling the smaller boy a little more into his lap.
Omi moaned at the heat of Ken's body against his. He could identify the flutter in his gut as terror now, and he fought against it, knowing it was irrational. Why should he be afraid of Ken? Hadn't he wanted this touch, these kisses? Hadn't he been daydreaming about this for the last week? Ken would never hurt him, Ken would never force him, Ken would never...
Ken pulled him closer again, enough that he could feel the heat of his friend's burgeoning interest against his thigh, and something snapped inside Omi. He went rigid, his whole body locked with fear so deep he couldn't even draw breath, couldn't even beg Ken to stop, and his mind blanked out...
Ken felt the sudden change in his friend's posture and pulled back a little, frowning. Omi was staring straight ahead with a look of utter terror, and Ken's eyes widened. "Omi, what... uf!"
All the air was forced out of his lungs at once as Omi came to life again, planting his hands on Ken's chest and shoving hard. Ken tumbled back against the side of the couch, gasping for air as Omi lunged to his feet. The smaller boy was panting and trembling, his fists clenched at his sides, as he stared at Ken with something closer to hate than fear.
"Don't," he snarled, and Ken was shocked at the tone he used. Omi's voice had never been that deep, that rough. "Don't you dare. I won't let you!"
Ken had to blink a few times, trying to reconcile the 'ore's and 'teme's in that sentence with the sweet, always-polite boy he knew. It was as though there was an entirely different person standing before him, who happened to bear a superficial resemblance to Omi. "Omi?" he asked, bewildered at the sudden change.
"He trusted you!" Omi hissed, shaking with fury. "You're no better than all the others. I know what you want, and you're not getting it! I won't let you hurt him!" He was backing away, towards the hallway leading to their bedrooms, looking ready to do serious damage if Ken took so much as a step towards him.
Ken stayed right where he was. He didn't think his legs would support him, even if he did try to get up. He watched with growing confusion as Omi turned and bolted for his room, slamming the door behind him. Not until the 'click' of the lock turning reached him was Ken able to move again.
"What the hell was THAT?" he wondered aloud, eyes wide.
One moment Omi had been receptive to his touch, if a little nervous - understandable for someone whose only experience up to this point consisted of maybe one or two kisses with a girl who'd turned out to be his sister - and the next he'd been hissing and spitting like a riled cat. And the language! He'd never heard Omi refer to himself by anything other than 'boku', and the only time he'd ever heard Omi use even 'omae' to refer to someone else was when his brother Hirofumi was beating him. What he'd said hadn't made much sense, either. 'HE trusted you.' 'I won't let you hurt HIM.' Him who? And the talk about being no better than ?all the others'...
Ken stared at the closed door to his friend's room. There was obviously a lot more going on in Omi's head then any of them had realized.