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solongsun Since early childhood, Kaoru has been using doors to travel backwards and forwards through time: a motion he is sometimes able to control, and sometimes not. At the age of 22, he opens a door to the long-ago autumn of 1996 and finds something he never expected – a man who, decades before Kaoru's birth, seems to know exactly who he is...
The door closes behind him and a cold wind whips at his hair, tangling it in front of his eyes so he can't see. It's dark, and from the hulking building in front of him – what looks like a huge warehouse with no windows – there's a heavy throb of bassy music, spilling messily into the night.
He straightens his shoulders, takes a deep breath of the night air: it's sooty and cold tasting. He appears to be in the middle of an industrial estate, almost completely deserted – it must be late at night. By reflex he checks his watch, but it's still on present time: three forty-five in the afternoon.
Sighing, he pushes open the door of the building in front of him, once he finds it; the entrance is as nondescript as the place itself. Inside, a deep wave of heat presses itself into his skin and the music makes his teeth shake and there are bodies everywhere, dancing and jumping and drinking and arguing, and every skin has the same sweaty sheen, glowing under the neons.
It's the music that catches his attention though: it's pulsing trance techno, reverberating off the wall in 4/4 time, a whole roomful of people rippling to it like a wave. It's so obnoxious that Kaoru knows there's only one era he can possibly be in, unless he's found himself in the far future where this kind of thing is undergoing a crazy revival: the 1990s.
His heart feels like it's expanding in his chest. Toshiya.
Are you here?
Sticking to the walls, he begins to move his way through the crush of sweaty bodies. He feels a little self-conscious; nobody here looks older than twenty-three and here he is, a thirty-one year old man in his oldest, most torn-up jeans and a plain black T-shirt, his dark brown hair a messy tangle around his face. He flexes his small hands, taking a lame sort of comfort from the darkly tattooed skin there; at least he doesn't look like a total square.
Once he's squeezed himself around every inch of the cinder block walls, he tries the bar, but Toshiya's not there, either in front of it or behind it. He's preparing himself to dive into the heaving mass of bodies on the makeshift dance floor when some serendipity walks right past him: short, dyed blond hair, lip piercing, pissed off expression – it's Toshiya's weird roommate.
Kaoru follows the shorter man to a pile of wooden pallets where a group of people are lying and sitting, their drinks and coats scattered between them; Kaoru searches them urgently, his hands awkwardly stuffed into his pockets. It's dark; the people are little more than shadows—
'Toshiya?' he yells stupidly above the music, and something incredibly hot slams into his midsection.
'Kaoru!'
A pair of thin, sweaty arms lock like a vice around his neck and he feels half a drink get poured down the back of his shirt, but he doesn't care: there's a pair of big, deep brown eyes looking into his own, and he can feel his heart rising up in his throat like a balloon. Toshiya, his Toshiya, perhaps twenty years old and simply beautiful.
Toshiya reads the question in his eyes and laughs, putting his lips very close to Kaoru's ear, 'It's March eleventh, 1997.'
He's still nineteen. Kaoru's thumbs smooth over his cheekbones, registering the reality of that impossibly beautiful face; he leans in and captures his lips in a gentle kiss.
Immediately there's a chorus of loud ooohs from behind them, and Toshiya grins against his mouth.
'C'mon,' he says, 'Dance with me.'
So they dance. In the mass of bodies there's no way to be but pushed tight together, Toshiya's arms around Kaoru's waist and the scent of him everywhere, getting up under Kaoru's skin and going to his head; he's hard and he knows Toshiya can feel it from the little looks and touches the other man keeps giving him.
There's sweat pouring down his back and dripping from the ends of his hair. They're both drenched, their skins hot and slick; Toshiya's hair is sticking to his neck and face in damp spikes and his hands are pushing up under Kaoru's T-shirt, touching his skin through the thick heat. He tugs him forward and kisses him, their bodies pressed together from lips to feet, and when he finally pulls away he's panting.
'Outside,' he says raggedly.
'Toshiya—!'
The other man is already pulling him, somehow knowing his way in the flickering dark; he leads him single-mindedly towards the same door Kaoru came in through and gropes blindly, checking for any presence of a brass doorknob before he opens it and pushes Kaoru through, the pulsing heat spitting them out into the cold night air. The sky is distant and black, full of hard stars, and Kaoru gets a split-second look at it before Toshiya has pushed him up against that door and is kissing him deeply, shivering in the wind, his body hot to the touch.
'Toshiya,' Kaoru says weakly, but the younger man just shakes his head.
'I want to make you cum,' he says urgently, his words going straight to Kaoru's dick; he groans, and Toshiya's lips start to attack his neck, kissing and licking and sucking so he'll have marks tomorrow, whenever that tomorrow might be.
'Toshiya,' Kaoru gasps, 'Here?'
'Right here,' Toshiya murmurs against his skin, one long fingered hand unzipping Kaoru's jeans and slipping easily inside them, feeling him through his underwear. He's hot against Toshiya's hand, pushing insistently against his palm; Toshiya squeezes and closes his eyes as Kaoru moans in his ear. 'How old are you?' he asks in a whisper.
'I'm – fuck, Toshiya – I'm thirty-one.'
'And nothing's changed; you still love me?'
'Of course I—' he gasps, '—love you. I'll always love you.'
Toshiya drops to his knees and presses his tongue lewdly to the bulge in Kaoru's boxer briefs, pulling the groan from the older man's throat. One hand grips Kaoru's hip whilst the other fumbles with the waist of his underwear, tugging his clothing down and exposing him to the night; his cock is hard, flushed, twitching when Toshiya slides a gentle hand over it.
He ducks his head and licks all the way from the base to the tip, listening to the sounds above him; Kaoru gasping deep in his chest and music leaking out through the door. He tastes like he remembers; he licks until Kaoru is writhing, his body flattening uselessly against the door behind him, and takes the very head of his dick between his lips. His eyes flick upwards and he finds Kaoru watching him as he starts to suck, a gentle hand stroking through his sweaty hair.
'Toshiya,' he says, his voice deep and throaty, 'You feel so good.'
Toshiya slips off his dick with a soft wet sound, 'Did you miss me?' He curls his tongue around the tip of Kaoru's cock, flattening over the slit.
'Yes, fuck – fuck. I missed you like crazy.'
Toshiya's hand squeezes his hip harder and he takes all of him in one go, pushing his head down firmly so Kaoru is completely buried in his hot wet mouth; he makes a sound, a muffled moan around the dick between his lips, and Kaoru says his name in a broken sort of voice. He can hear his breath getting ragged and the wind tugging the gasps from his throat; his chest rises and falls sharply and between his legs Toshiya's head bobs rhythmically. His eyes want to fall closed but he can't stop watching: Toshiya is so young and so fragile-looking and his lips stretch so beautifully around Kaoru's dick, taking it as deep as he can. His heart thuds hard, making the inside of his chest feel bruised and sensitive, and he knows that each heavy beat is making his cock push more insistently against Toshiya's tongue, but he's helpless. It just feels too good; far too good to stop. He opens his mouth to breathe but cries out instead, his hand tightening involuntarily in Toshiya's hair.
There's a sudden flash of an image in his head: Toshiya naked in front of him for the first time, his body beautiful and awkward and his eyes soft and dark and nervous and his shaking hands reaching out to pull Kaoru towards him, saying I've wanted this since I was thirteen years old. Kaoru squeezes his eyes shut tightly, whispers his name.
Toshiya hears it over the roaring of his own heart in his ears as he moves over the other man's cock, feeling the heat and hardness of it at the back of his throat. He's conscious of nothing else but wanting: of wanting him, all of him, as much as possible; wanting the taste of him on his tongue and the feeling of his hands curling in his hair, gentle now, stroking and urging; wanting the shake in Kaoru's thigh as he tries not to push his hips forward. He wants, he wants; he wants so much he could cry from it.
Kaoru moans, a rough version of Toshiya's name. His eyes are drawn to some movement below Toshiya's hips and he realises his lover has his own hand down his pants and that he's stroking himself off to the rhythm of his mouth, his movements getting faster and more erratic, and it's all Kaoru can take, the sight of that. He gives a strangled cry, biting down on his own hand to muffle it, and his orgasm hits him like a freight train; bucking his hips, he empties himself into Toshiya's mouth. His knees tremble hard beneath him and he slides to the floor, letting Toshiya lean forward and press their sweaty foreheads together as he strokes himself off, his hand fisting the head of his own dick desperately; he bites down hard on his lower lip, a moan in his throat, and tangles an arm around the back of Kaoru's neck as he loses himself. His cum spatters hotly onto the pavement between Kaoru's feet, and he pants for breath. With their foreheads pressed together like that, Kaoru's eyes are the only thing he can see. They kiss, and Kaoru can taste himself on Toshiya's lips.
'You've been gone so long,' he whispers.
'I'm sorry.'
Toshiya kisses him again, roughly; pulls him to his feet. 'You're here now.'
Back inside they get drinks, Toshiya paying because Kaoru's money has pictures of people who either don't exist or are still children at the present time. Toshiya leads the way back over to the collection of old pallets where his friends are sitting, still sprawled in amongst the coats, some of them splitting off to go dance and then coming back, sets of them drifting to and from the bar constantly.
'Where did you get to?'
Toshiya's engulfed by a man as tall as he is; a lanky redhead with a wide smile. He hugs onto him and his smile turns wicked; he backs away, holds Toshiya at arm's length and says declaratively over his shoulder to the group, 'He smells of cum.'
Toshiya flushes a beautiful red colour and there's a chorus of good-natured laughter from behind him which makes Kaoru smile. Shyly he places his hand on the small of Toshiya's back; he can't pretend he fits in here, with this group of young friends, but it's nice to be able to live the life just for one night. He just has to make sure that he doesn't accidentally run into them again in what passes for them as a few days' time, looking inexplicably twenty years older. He's already anxious that Kyo will notice that his face has aged seven years in a matter of months, but maybe it's okay: he doesn't think Toshiya's roommate – half asleep and busy bitching Toshiya out – took a very clear look at him, after all.
Scanning around, Kaoru realises that he can't see Kyo; he's not one of the crowd of friends who have pushed close to Toshiya to mutter questions in his ears about this stranger he's holding hands with. Kaoru squints and finally makes out Kyo. He's sitting right at the back of the group, planted on top of a pile of coats so he looks a little taller than he is, and once Kaoru finds him it's hard to lose him again because the smaller man is staring at him so fixedly he can feel it. Uncomfortably, he gives Toshiya's hand a little squeeze and moves towards him. Endorphins are still buzzing happily through his veins and he can still feel some kind of ghost of it, Toshiya's lips and tongue against him; he picks his way through the coats, noting with a little unease that Kyo hasn't broken his intense eye contact all the while. Finally he settles down beside him, makes to clink his beer bottle against the other man's, but realises he isn't holding one.
'Hi,' he says awkwardly instead. 'I don't know if you—'
'I remember,' Kyo says shortly. 'I think you've got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here.'
Kaoru puts his beer down with a quiet thunk. 'I'm – sorry, what?'
Kyo turns towards him and the look in his eyes isn't just intense now; it's venomous, almost liquid with hate.
'You heard,' he hisses shortly. 'I'm sick of your shit.'
Kaoru shakes his head uncomprehendingly, 'I'm sorry. I don't know what you mean.'
'I mean that I'm sick of seeing my best friend torn to pieces every time you roll into town, fuck him, and then disappear again.' He shakes his head disgustedly. 'How old are you, anyway?'
Kaoru opens his mouth to answer but Kyo cuts him off angrily, 'It doesn't matter. Guys like you will never change, will you? Did you realise that he's an actual person? That he has feelings and a life and stuff? Look at him,' Kyo demands, stabbing his finger in Toshiya's direction, and Kaoru does, shaken: he looks and sees Toshiya laughing with his tall friend and another guy, a teenage-looking guy who looks prettier than most girls and who is laughing behind his cupped hand. Toshiya looks young in that moment; beautiful, but almost painfully young, and Kaoru feels his creeping shame as something physical, like a kind of animal; it crawls up his leg, edges over his knees and settles in his lap.
'I love him like a brother,' Kyo says forcefully. 'Probably more than I'd love a brother, because everyone in my family is fucking crazy. You can't – treat him – like this. It's not fair.'
'Kyo, I don't—'
'Does it make you feel good?' Kyo interrupted him harshly, 'Fucking some nineteen year old kid in his single bed? Does it make you feel like a big fucking man?'
'It's not like that,' Kaoru says quietly, and Kyo gives a derisive snort.
'I think it's exactly like that. You know, he really likes you, and ordinarily that would make me not want to be a prick to you. But all you ever do is ass-fuck my friend right in the heart, and I hate it.'
There's an air of finality to his words, and he leans back a little, taking a deep breath. Kaoru shakes his head slightly, trying to clear it.
'I don't know what to say,' he says softly.
'Some kind of explanation would be good, but if you can't manage that, a promise to leave him the fuck alone would do nicely.'
Kaoru bites his lip. 'I can't promise that.'
Kyo's gaze darkens considerably, and Kaoru sighs. 'I'm in love with him,' he says.
'Pretty funny way of showing it. You got a wife or something?'
'What? No. No wife.'
'It's not a crazy question,' Kyo says scathingly, 'You come out of nowhere and fuck him and then you fuck off someplace else before he wakes up in the morning. Pretty natural to assume there's some little woman at home you're cheating on. Maybe a couple of kids as well.'
'No. No wife. No kids.'
'Any other excuse?'
Kaoru sighs. 'I'm sorry,' he says, rubbing his hands against his temples, where a headache is starting, 'I can't explain. I know you don't have any reason to believe me, but I love him more than anything. There's no way I'd treat him like this unless I had to.'
It sounds lame even to him, and he feels suddenly incredibly depressed. He looks over at Toshiya and the feeling gets worse; he's drinking, laughing, having a good time; he looks up at Kaoru and sends him a glowing smile that sends his stomach plummeting.
'That's your excuse?'
'Best I can do,' Kaoru says tiredly. Kyo picks up Kaoru's beer bottle, considers it a moment, and flings the contents into Kaoru's face before he walks away.
'He's a good friend,' Kaoru says as they walk in the grey pre-dawn, shoulders hunched against the wind, his voice hoarse from shouting above the music, 'He cares about you.'
'He's interfering,' Toshiya says angrily, his fist grasping a handful of Kaoru's T-shirt reflexively, 'And he's wrong.'
They're going nowhere in particular. The streets are as quiet as they'll ever be at this hour, and they end up following the canal through Dotonbori, their faces lit up by the myriad glowing signs.
'He's right, though,' Kaoru says in a quiet voice, gripping Toshiya's hand tightly, 'None of this is fair to you.'
'It's not fair to you, either. Kaoru...' Toshiya knocks his forehead frustratedly against the older man's shoulder, 'This isn't your choice. I know that.'
'But it's not too late for you, Toshiya. You deserve – you deserve somebody who can always be here; who will always be around you, whenever you want them. You deserve somebody you can have a whole life with, not just...parts of a life.'
'So you don't think it's fate, that you keep running into me? You've got the entire space-time continuum at your disposal, and you think it's coincidence that you keep finding yourself in the late twentieth century, within fifty feet of me?'
Kaoru smiles grimly. 'Even if it is fate,' he says gently, 'That doesn't mean you have to follow it. Not if you don't want to.'
'Kaoru, are you trying to give me an out?'
'I guess I am.'
'Are you kidding me?' Toshiya says disbelievingly. 'I was meant to be with you, you know that. From the time I was six years old I was meant to be with you. I grew up with you; you've always been there when I've needed you; I – nobody else is going to do, don't you see that? It has to be you for me. That's the only way. Because you—' he pauses, gesticulating helplessly, his voice so serious it's nearly angry, 'You are my family.'
He stops there, on the street, frowning. Almost roughly, he pulls Kaoru into a hug, resting his chin against his hair.
'So quit it,' he says finally, muffled. 'And come back to mine. I don't care if Kyo is there, and neither should you.'
They do walk back to Toshiya's apartment building, walking quietly but close together in the growing light of the new day, shivering in the wind. The door of Toshiya's block, though, has grown a brand new feature: a round, dull-looking brass doorknob.
Toshiya closes his eyes, and he holds onto Kaoru for a long time.