Chapter Eleven
"You're not the same Oichi anymore." Yuzuru wrapped his arms around Yukimura's waist, pressed his cheek against the other's much broader back, and said in a muffled, aggrieved tone.
Upon returning from the training camp, Yukimura had shed some of his youthful slenderness, and the lines of his shoulders and back had become more defined. The muscularity that was within reach made Yuzuru suddenly feel that the other person seemed to be a little distant from him.
Yukimura was amused by the nasal accusation and burst out laughing. His shoulders trembled slightly, and his laughter spread with the evening breeze, growing lighter and lighter with each laugh.
Yuzuru puffed out his cheeks, wanting to retort. The moisture that had been welling up in his eyes hadn't dissipated yet. In his haste, a small snot bubble suddenly popped out of his nose and burst with a "biu" sound, like a soap bubble blown out by the wind.
Yukimura's laughter, which had just subsided, burst forth again, making him double over with laughter. He tapped Yuzuru's reddened nose with his fingertip: "You..."
Yuzuru was both embarrassed and angry. He stomped his foot, covered his face, and turned to run home. Yukimura quickly stopped laughing and followed, his steps light and cheerful, his voice still tinged with laughter: "Stop laughing, stop laughing. You're just too cute, I couldn't help it."
"Is the training camp... over?" Yuzuru slowed his pace, his voice drifting out from between his fingers.
"That's about it. I'll have to go again in a while."
"Then...would you like to come with me?"
"Hmph, no."
"Really don't want it?"
"don't want!"
The setting sun cast long shadows of the two figures. The taller figure kept his head slightly tilted, his gaze fixed on the shorter figure beside him. The evening breeze carried the scent of locust blossoms, making the two shadows seem even closer.
Dinner was at Yukimura's house. Yukimura hadn't been home for a long time, so Mio's mother prepared a table full of dishes. The aroma of Japanese fried food mixed with the warmth of miso soup, and the gentle greetings from family members filled the air. The lively atmosphere completely washed away the sense of separation.
After the meal, Yukimura took Yuzuru's hand and walked back. The warmth from his fingertips was steady, like holding the warmth of an entire summer.
The moment Yuzuru opened the door, he was stunned—the living room was filled with fresh lisianthus flowers, their light purple petals glistening with tiny water droplets, a few strings of balloons swaying gently, and warm yellow light shining on them, giving off a soft glow.
Yukimura bowed slightly behind him in a gentlemanly manner, his voice low and gentle like a cello: "Beautiful lady, may I have this dance?"
Yuzuru's eyes lit up, and the corners of his mouth couldn't help but turn up. He replied softly, "Okay."
Yukimura turned on the record player, and a soothing melody filled the air. Moonlight streamed in through the French windows, weaving a silvery tapestry across the floor.
The two swayed gently to the music, spinning, bending over, and embracing. Their movements weren't perfect, but they were exceptionally in sync. Their noses brushed against each other's hair, their breaths mingled, and even the evening breeze slowed its pace, quietly accompanying them as they enjoyed this moment of tranquility.
Night fell through the windowpane, softening the world into a gentle stillness. The blankets on the bed sank slightly, and two figures were entwined tightly, like vines clinging to a pine tree, inseparable.
The warm breaths mingled, each carrying its own unique scent, both robust and lingering.
As he leaned down, the tip of his nose brushed against the other's neck, and his thin lips fell on the other's delicate kisses, from the forehead to the chin, and down the collarbone. Every touch was hot and forceful, yet as light as moonlight brushing across a lake when his fingertips grazed the skin.
The other person's fingertips dug into his back with a trembling force, their breathing rising and falling with his movements, sometimes rapid like a drumbeat, sometimes long and gentle like an evening breeze.
He took that pale ankle into his mouth, his tongue gently curling around it. The other person's body tensed up abruptly, as if the most sensitive string had been touched, and soft sobs escaped from their throat, tinged with moisture.
My palm slowly moved upwards along the waistline, brushing over the soft flesh on the side of my waist, gently stroking my back, feeling every slight tremor of the body beneath me.
Her fingertips rested on the hollow of his shoulder blade, pressing gently, which earned her an even tighter embrace. Her cheeks were buried in his shoulder, the warm, moist breath soaking through the fabric, and also through their heartbeats.
An ambiguous atmosphere filled the air; every breath exchanged, every touch of body pressed together, seemed to whisper of a long-hidden desire.
He lowered his head and whispered in the other's ear, his voice hoarse as if soaked by the night, filled with endless tenderness: "Ayu..."
The person beneath him tilted their head back slightly, their eyelashes glistening with tiny drops of water, their eyes hazy yet burning, their fingertips clutching the hem of his clothes, and they nodded gently.
His movements became increasingly gentle, as if he were cherishing the most precious treasure in the world. Every touch was filled with careful care, yet also concealed an irrepressible eagerness, until the other person trembled slightly in his arms, their breath disordered like clouds blown about by the wind.
"Yu, is it alright?" Yukimura's lips gently covered Yu's lips, his voice slightly hoarse, his warm breath brushing against the corners of Yu's lips.
Yuzuru closed his eyes, his long eyelashes trembling slightly, and nodded almost imperceptibly.
The bedside table was gently pulled open, the soft tearing sound particularly clear in the quiet night.
The next second, Yuzuru's lower limbs were gently lifted, and an unfamiliar sensation quietly spread, a tingling sensation mixed with a barely perceptible pain, like the gentle trembling of a tender bud breaking through the soil in early spring.
"I love you, Yu." Yukimura's murmur fell on her ear, burning hot, their breaths completely mingling, no longer distinguishing one from the other.
His movements gradually loosened, tinged with cautious exploration yet concealing an irrepressible desire; each touch felt like exploring a completely new world. Just as he was lost in the moment, his movements suddenly stopped, and the air fell silent for a moment.
Yuzuru couldn't help but chuckle, gently scratching Yukimura's back with his fingertips: "It's okay, it's Oichi's first time."
Yukimura buried her face in Yuzuru's neck, took a deep breath, and felt her hair brush against his skin, creating a slightly ticklish sensation. Yuzuru was startled, then felt the man's breath growing hotter and hotter, and that unsettling presence intensified once more. She realized then that this was just the beginning.
After an unknown amount of time, Yukimura's voice, tinged with a lazy hoarseness, asked, "Am I lacking in stamina, Yu?"
Yuzuru, panting and with a flushed face, gently pushed him away, her voice soft and pleading: "Not bad, very good... I was wrong, I don't want it anymore..."
After a long while, Yukimura carefully picked up Yuzuru and carried him to the bathroom. The sound of warm water flowed, occasionally mixed with a few soft moans, gently enveloped by the long night.
The stars twinkled outside the window, fireflies carrying their little lanterns flitted across the branches, and dew slid down the leaves, silently soaking the night.
As morning light streamed into the bedroom through the gaps in the curtains, Yuzuru's eyelashes fluttered slightly, and he slowly opened his eyes.
Yukimura, standing beside him, was looking at him intently, his eyes filled with a gentle smile. He lowered his head and placed a good morning kiss on Yu's forehead: "Good morning, Yu."
After getting dressed, Yuzuru tried to get out of bed, but his steps faltered as soon as he landed, and he slumped back onto the bed, his cheeks instantly turning red.
After finally recovering and washing up, I went downstairs and found a fragrant brunch already laid out on the dining table.
Yuzuru picked up his chopsticks, shoved a large mouthful of rice into his mouth, and glared at Yukimura across from him. Yukimura looked back at him innocently: "You said to stop last night, but I didn't agree."
Yu glared at him angrily, but the other man smiled broadly, his eyes revealing undisguised satisfaction.
After dinner, the two spent some time in the art studio. Yuzuru was doodling on paper with his paintbrush, while Yukimura sat to the side reading a book, occasionally glancing up at him with a soft, cotton-like gaze.
Afterwards, he went to the courtyard to tend to the flowers and plants. Yuzuru squatted on the ground to water the bellflowers. A wave of fatigue washed over him, and he couldn't help but yawn.
Seeing this, Yukimura bent down and picked her up, his voice filled with amusement: "Tired? Let me take you for a nap."
Yuzuru took the opportunity to wrap his arms around his neck, bury his face in his shoulder, and smell the faint scent of soap on his body. Sleepiness quickly overwhelmed him.
The sun shone brightly outside the window, birds chirped merrily in the branches, flowers and grass swayed gently in the breeze, and the bedding in the bedroom rose and fell softly, accompanied by even breathing, all of which filled the afternoon until the setting sun once again painted the sky red.
The evening glow filtered through the window curtains, casting warm, dappled light on the bed. Yuzuru was fast asleep, his eyelashes fluttering slightly, his breathing even.
Yukimura sat on the edge of the bed, his fingertips gently brushing her sweaty forehead, his voice as soft as a feather: "Yu, wake up, it's time for dinner."
Yuzuru opened his eyes groggily, still sleepy, and rubbed against the pillow with a whimper before being half-supported to sit up by Yukimura.
Dinner was simple but warm. I ate it in small bites at the table, my eyelids felt as heavy as lead, and I started to feel sleepy again after only a few bites.
Yukimura smiled helplessly yet indulgently, wiping the corner of her mouth for her. After dinner, Yuzuru fell into a deep sleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow.
The next morning, the first rays of sunlight streamed through the window into the quiet bedroom. The bed swayed slightly, its rhythmic rise and fall gentle. A slender, pale arm hung limply at its side, its fingertips occasionally brushing lightly against the burning heat of the body on its back, a hint of unconscious dependence in its touch.
The sunlight outside the window was perfect, casting dappled golden rays through the gaps in the branches and leaves. Birds chirped their morning songs on the branches, and the flowers and plants in the courtyard swayed gently in the breeze, their fragrance wafting into the room.
The air inside grew increasingly hot, and the bed swayed more and more violently, accompanied by two intertwined breaths, long and rapid, which, together with the birdsong and fragrance of flowers outside the window, created a gentle and tender morning light.
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