6Hi everyone. It's been about this time last year that I'd started writing fanfiction, all because of a certain writer who got me hooked on writing. So, in lieu of Christmas and Takano's belated birthday, I humbly present this fic to Cerberus Revised/Daniel Lazerus/Don't Preach. Thank you for what you do, my dear sweet Sensei!
Merry Christmas, everyone and have a happy New Year!
Rated M for profanity and adult sexual situations.
The characters of Sekai Ichi Hatsukoi are property of Nakamura Shungiku.
A Tale of a Reluctant Matchmaker
By Tentai.t
December 25, 2014
Chapter 1:
Getting to Know You
I never pictured myself as a gay man. I grew up thinking that I'd end up with a wonderful housewife, waiting for me in the comfort of our home, with a home cooked meal and two and a half children to make me happy. My dream was not, at least, I didn't think at the time, hard to make true. I studied hard, partied moderately, prayed to a supreme being, respected my elders and helped others without expecting anything in return.
Well, that last part was probably a lie, a philosophical oxymoron. If I really thought about it, there really is no such thing as a truly altruistic action. Even for something as simple as someone brushing his teeth in the morning, he'd expect social acceptance or at least avoid public ridicule for being a slob.
I didn't particularly expect anything in return for my Good Samaritan ways. I, just like the rest of the world, hoped that maybe good karma would just blow a little my way.
That is why, the moment I laid my eyes on Takano Masamune, I questioned my life as I knew it.
He was a pensive man, someone less annoying than the rest of the blubbering freshmen at uni. Although he kept his bangs long, he was handsome; even to a straight man like me. He was also tall, and carried not the gaudy fashion sense that was popular with the other kids today. He had this air of quiet pride, and had I known back then what kind of pain he was keeping to himself, I would have basked in my admiration for him. Though, I always felt like he was empty; my stoic impression of him grew strong when I would pass him by the smoker's lounge. Always staring, a million miles away, separated from the rest of the people around him.
There was something about Takano Masamune that made you wonder about what kind of person he was inside, something that made you curious about the person behind him. Masamune would be absent from class, and on the days that he did show up, he was disheveled, with darkened shadows under his eyes.
He was always alone.
And I wanted to be his friend; the one who could help him out of his darkness. Nobody should have to be alone.
So on one lucky day he actually showed up at the school, I spotted him in the smoking lounge, and I took the chance, nervously praying to the gods to help me pull something I'd never done before in my life.
"Hey," peeking my head into the hut, "can I bum off a cigarette?"
He cast a bored sideways glance, "Do I know you?"
"I'm in your Jap Lit class." By way of introduction, "Yokozawa," I said.
Takano nodded his acknowledgement, "Takano," and reached inside his jersey pocket and shook out a stick toward me. "It's my last one."
"Don't worry, man. I'll owe you one." I lit it with a lighter from my own pocket. "You saved me." Taking a drag off of it, I studied the smoke. Menthol Lights. "I smoked all my cigarettes last night studying for our test today. Almost didn't make it to class." Another drag. "You studied?"
"No," was the bored reply.
"I could let you copy off my paper if you sit close. Consider it payback."
"I don't need to," he answered taking a quick glance at his phone. "Look, I'm not much for chitchat and we have five minutes before class starts. Hurry up and smoke your cigarette."
"Ok, ok," I said with smirk. I finished my cigarette and we walked to class together. He didn't sit right next to me during the exam but close enough that he was able to turn to me to borrow a pen. Who comes to class without a pen? He finished the exam first and dropped the pen on my table before leaving his paper on the professor's table.
I never did get to tell him that I had a whole pack of cigarettes stuck in my pocket that day. Nonetheless, our smoke buddy friendship started from then on.
Results for that Jap Lit exam came out with him topping the list despite his being absent a few days. Jealous classmates gossiped about him being a cheat but no one dared challenge his intellect because when the professor asked him anything at all in class, he always spoke with an expertise, like he'd been reading advanced literature all his life.
"I have a photographic memory," he explained it to me once, nonchalantly, "and I can read up to 400 characters a minute." Impressive.
I've seen it before. All the while, I thought that he was just cramming before class during a smoke break. Turning pages after staring at them for only a few seconds at a time, he would turn his gaze to the next page, then the next page, then again. Takano studied the material he had missed while being absent from class.
"You don't have to pretend you're actually reading on my account," I scoffed. "You probably read it at home all night like one of those book nerds, didn't you?"
He winced, lifted his head from his book, and stared at me for a while before answering, "No. I got drunk so that I could fall asleep."
Eeh? So straight forward for someone so private. I think the only reason he kept me around was because I didn't pry.
We had grown close enough that we'd come to hang out more often. Totally platonic. We'd eat together, study together, get drunk after exams. Plus, he had a cat which seemed to like me. But we never really spoke of our pasts or what we did on our own time.
Rumors came about that he slept around with different girls and guys from other universities. As a child brought up from the straight and narrow, it would have made sense for someone like me to avoid him at all costs, to not even bother dirtying my reputation for someone so lost on the wayward.
But I didn't.
I couldn't.
I couldn't abandon this guy to whom I've grown so close.
It was around midterm when things started to change. Some nights, I would get a call from some barkeep telling me to come pick up my friend. Some days, I'd stop at his unlocked door to find women's shoes in the genkan, his room smelling like stale cigarettes, alcohol and sex. I'd scare off whatever bimbo decided to spread her legs, wake a hungover Takano, get him showered and ready for class. I worried over my friend time and time again. I wanted him to talk to me, to let me in, to trust in me. I asked him to take it easy; that he was going to kill himself with the way things were headed. Little did I know, that was how far his downward spiral went.
One late night, he came to my room with a bruise on his eye and drunk as a skunk. He slumped over as soon as I opened the door, his clothes in disarray like he'd been in a brawl. "What the fuck happened to you?"
"I got in a fight," was his obvious answer.
I grabbed him by his armpits, and walked backward into my room. Sitting him on the couch, I took a closer look at his shiner. I grabbed a few ice cubes out of the freezer, and made a quick icepack with a dishcloth. Takano hissed as I pressed it to his temple.
"Shit, Takano. I've kept out of your business to respect your fucking privacy, but this is getting fucking out of hand. You hear me?" I growled in his face. "Talk to me, goddammit!"
Drunkenly swiping at his nose, Takano lifted his chin up and sniffed. He waved my hands off his face and mumbled incoherently.
"What?-"
"I said, 'He was fucking engaged!' The little fucker was fucking engaged…" he said, stifling a sob.
He never mentioned anything about this to me before. 'He', he said. A guy? I processed the thought some more, thinking: ok, so a friend of his is engaged. I wracked my brain at what to do for my crying friend; hardly a pat on the back would suffice right now. So I embraced him. I embraced him hard, as he let out a sob, his own arm tightening around me. I let him cry, his tears wetting my shoulder, his hot breaths moistening the front of my shirt. I'd never seen a grown man cry before, so I did what my mother would do for me. I smoothed down the hair of his nape, swayed a bit while shushing him to stop.
We had been stuck like that for a while, his sobs dying down to quiet hiccups. I thought that he might have fallen asleep until I felt lips touch the base of my neck. I was unsure about the sensation until I definitely felt it again and—
"Takano! Wake up! What the fuck, man?!" I yelled, shaking him.
"Help me?" was his quiet reply. "Help me forget? Please." He palmed my neck as he kissed my throat. "I want to forget it all."
The heat in my loins fired up as his lips reached the dip behind my ear. Goddamit, it had been a while for me and it was unfair. A man shouldn't react this way to another man. I shuddered, not wholly from disgust when I felt him lick the shell of my ear. I tried to push him away.
But instead, Takano licked my Adam's apple, then lightly sucked on it. I felt the tip of his tongue brush against the skin of my neck. Fuck! I wasn't gay! I grabbed the hair of his nape and pulled his head back to take a good look at him. "I'm not gay—"
"I won't kiss you. S'not gay if you don't kiss… Please," he said once more. "Please fuck me."
What the fuck. How do you even fuck a guy? Doesn't that shit hurt—
"I want to know how it felt for him," he slurred. "Fuck me hard and make me forget." Takano's fingers reached down the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his chest then his arms and head. Under the loose clothing, you could tell that he wasn't eating much for his lanky frame. He lied down onto the couch taking my hand and touching it to his chest. "Fuck me."
I hadn't had sex in a long time, with no inclination to date any girl properly. And now I was undeniably sporting a good sized hard-on under my sleep shorts. Takano palmed this before hooking his own thumbs into his own fly, undoing it along with the zip. He clumsily undressed, his long legs hardly fitting in the couch. Then he reached over to the band of my shorts pulling it down my ass, my dick springing forward as he took this into his mouth. Fuck! It felt like heaven.
He wet the head with his saliva. His hand wrapped around my shaft, stroking it, to spread his spittle. He lied back down, spread his legs and guided my hips to his. His fingers positioned my penis into his entrance. "Fuck me."
Do you just—Do you just, ram it in? Like you would a woman?
I pushed into him, but to no avail; the head of my penis just slid off. "It's not working." I tried it again, but the friction hurt.
"We need to use some oil or something," he said, frustrated. "Do you have some… olive oil or something?"
I got off him and walked over to the kitchenette where a bottle of olive oil stood. I drizzled some unto my palm and slicked my penis.
"Bring it here," he called out to me. When I did, he poured some onto his own fingers and wet his asshole. "Come on."
Unsure, I crouched over him, positioned to enter. Maybe if he were desperate enough, I could coerce him. "If I do this," I paused, "promise me you won't get drunk off your ass again?"
He sniffed. "Yes."
I took his answer and rammed into him.
"Fuck!" he hissed, his eyes squeezed shut, his fingernails bit into my shoulders.
"Ugh!" I ground out. Fuck! It was so fucking tight! Tighter than any woman I'd ever bed. The muscles of my buttocks clenched to go deeper.
"Hngghh! That's right," his breaths coming in shallow gasps. "Fuck me hard."
Lost in the sensation, his heat and tightness, I rutted against him. It felt better than any experience I'd ever had, his asshole crushing around me. His nails scratched at my back while he bit his lips closed. It wasn't long before I was gasping for air and my hands were clenching at his buttocks. I pushed far and hard into him, releasing my spend, all the while, not even realizing that Takano had been crying or that he'd never even gotten hard.
I collapsed onto his chest, trying to catch my breath, while he whimpered quietly.
"So that's how he felt," he paused bitterly, swallowing his cry. "I hurt him, but I loved him so much."
"Who?"
"My first love." he said with a small smile. He hiccupped. "It doesn't matter now," he started to push me off of him. "He's was fucking engaged the whole fucking time."
I pulled out of him, my mess dripping onto the couch. "Shit," I cursed trying to wipe it off the faux leather with my discarded shorts.
Takano got off the couch and started to pick his clothes off the floor, his back toward me. I noticed the blood and semen dripping down his leg. "Shit! Fuck! Hey, you're fucking bleeding."
"So did he when I took his virginity," he said blankly.
"Goddamit!" I cursed, grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him. "Snap the fuck out of it!" I bent him over the back of the couch and nervously took the makeshift ice pack and pressed it to his anus. "God, I'm sorry! I'm sorry for hurting you." Peeking underneath the pack to see if the bleeding had stopped I said, "I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't even make you come."
"I can't come that way," he mumbled into his arm.
Feeling really bad that I made him bleed, I wasn't about to let things end here. "Well, I'm not one to fuck someone and not at least let them enjoy it." I cringed at the thought. If he can't come being penetrated, then that would mean he likes to do the fucking? What the fuck was I thinking? That I was going to let this guy fuck me in the ass because I felt bad that I made his butt bleed? Yes. Because I'm a pushover and I can't bear the thought of having hurt someone, albeit unintentionally, without giving them a just apology. "Look," I said to him. "Don't make me feel bad about your asshole. I'll let you fuck me to get off."
With sluggish eyes, he looked back to me, "Why?"
Why? Why? Because I'm a fucking idiot, that's why. Because you're my fucking friend. And I hurt you. And doing it that way would be calling it quits and we can forget all about it. "Just… get it the fuck over with," I growled my embarrassment.
Takano straightened out and reached for the bottle of olive oil that was on the floor. "Do you know what you're asking?"
"Yes." No. Fuck, god help me.
"Dun worry. I know better now. I won't hurt you." He turned behind me and placed his hand on the small of my back. "Bend over," he said.
I bent down the couch. My hands gripping the back, I braced for the pain.
Takano took his time. He nudged my feet to spread them apart with his own and ran his palm up the inside of my thigh. It was ticklish and I irately turned back to him, "Hurry it the fuck up."
"You have to relax first," he said, running a fingertip along the skin between my balls. They hitched up, a sensation I'd never felt before, since none of the girls I knew had ever done that to me. "I promise you, I won't make it hurt."
He coated his fingers with the oil and gingerly touched my asshole. I was so scared, it twitched. But his other hand touched my thigh and my hip. He caressed it in circles, relaxing me despite how nervous I was. He stuck a digit in, to the joint, and I started.
"It's 'kay," he slurred his words. "I won't hurt you."
He prepared my asshole, something I never thought people did. Every time I seemed to relax, he would stick it in deeper or add another finger while his other hand caressed my back. He took his time rubbing the insides, twisting his fingers to loosen me up. Time and again he'd rub against a sensitive spot which would startle me to a jerk.
"I think you're ready," he said, slowly pulling out his fingers to coat his penis with oil, stroking it into hardness. He put his hand on my shoulder again and asked me, "You sure you want to do this?"
"Yes!" I almost yelled, "just get it the fuck over with."
Takano slowly slid into me, pausing every so often to help me adjust to his thickness. Halfway in, he would pull back and push a little deeper. The feeling was so alien, being penetrated by something hard and smooth and hot all at the same time. I grasped at the couch, wondering if my fingers were going to tear at the material.
"You ok?" he asked panting.
"Uhm!" I muttered, unable to say anything back. It wasn't quite totally painful, just weird.
He then pulled back almost all the way, readjusted his angle and slid slowly right back into me. It took my breath away, the head of his penis grazing that sensitive spot. My jaw grew slack when he did it again.
Over and over, patiently penetrating me, my insides felt unbelievably good. I was panting, thankful that he was fucking me from behind. I would've been so embarrassed if he could see my face.
From behind me, I could hear him mumbling to himself, a few of his words that I could make out, despite our heavy breathing. 'I'm sorry', he was saying. 'Tell me what I did wrong.'
His thrusts became faster and more pronounced, hitting it inside me with more precision that I couldn't fathom. Hoarse cries were pulled from my throat every time it was rubbed. Fuck! It felt so fucking… so fucking good.
"Haahh… Haahh…'tsu… why?" Takano gripped my hips hard, bruising them.
It didn't matter. All I could feel was this burning inside me something that felt better than any climax that I'd ever climbed. I unconsciously pushed back at him, trying to reach it… Oh god. Oh god. There!
I let out a loud groan as my dick shot out, again dirtying the couch, my asshole twitching with every spurt.
"Fuck! Ritsu! Haahh! Ritsu…!" Takano called back as he rode his own orgasm out, not knowing he'd called out someone else's name. He shuddered as he finished himself and collapsed unto my back, sobbing, "Ritsu…"
He fell asleep not long after what we did. I cleaned him up, still shaken that I had just had sex with another man. My backside ached, dirtied, but did not bleed. I cleaned up the rest of the mess after I settled him unto my futon.
Now lying beside him I took one last look into the face of my heartbroken friend and fell asleep exhausted, wondering about how I was going to face tomorrow.