A Danganronpa fic.
First published October 2017.
Komaeda x Hinata, 7373 words.
Contains smut.
They’d never measured how much alcohol was in Souda’s homebrew, but Hajime was beginning to realise it was more than he’d thought. Or maybe he’d underestimated the size of his glass, which was the sort of mistake he shouldn’t be able to make.
When he stood up, he wobbled.
Or maybe the talents of Kamukura didn’t extend to holding his liquor.
It had been a good-natured evening. Sonia had spurned Souda’s advances, good-naturedly. Everyone had ignored Hanamura’s advances, good-naturedly. Everyone had ignored Komaeda, good-naturedly.
Hajime had kept an eye on him. He kept an eye on everyone, these days, watching everything, parsing it. Komaeda held onto a drink, but he didn’t actually drink it. He’d given up on his attempts to fit into conversation. And as Hajime watched him now, he slipped out the front door. Calling it a night?
Something about it didn’t feel right.
The room felt like the ocean. Hajime crossed it – saying his goodnights but not lingering on them – and he followed Komaeda outside.
The night air was barely cooler than it had been inside, even now, past twilight. The stars were out, and always far more glorious than Hajime remembered them being. One of the side effects of the Tragedy. Less light pollution.
He stopped, and stared upwards into the sky.
When he heard footsteps coming toward him, he looked back down. And it was Komaeda, approaching with a benign and curious expression.
‘Nice night for stargazing,’ Komaeda said.
‘Yeah.’ The way the word came out, it was more a blow-off than an acknowledgement. Hajime started walking again, and even though he was the one who’d followed Komaeda out, was annoyed to find Komaeda fell into step beside him.
‘Guess I ruined it for you.’
‘If I told you to get lost, would you?’ Hajime said, deadpan.
‘Well,’ Komaeda said, touching his mouth as if he were really considering the idea. ‘We’re going in the same direction, though.’ He stowed his hands back in his pockets. ‘I guess that’s bad luck for you, good luck for me!’
It was easier to tune Komaeda out. Why had he followed him out here anyway? Because he worried he was up to something?
He watched Komaeda out of one eye. He seemed contented, just walking alongside Hajime.
It was the contentment Hajime didn’t believe.
Outside his cabin, Hajime fumbled with his key. Dropped it. Komaeda stopped to wait for him. He wasn’t exactly laughing at Hajime, but Hajime felt like a source of amusement nonetheless.
He knelt down and snatched up his key. But when he tried to turn it in the lock, damn thing wouldn’t click.
‘I’m glad I didn’t drink,’ Komaeda said, leaning his butt against the wall and watching Hajime struggle.
Hajime tried jamming the key in the other way, but it didn’t help.
‘I wonder if I could possibly lend you a hand?’ Komaeda said. ‘I mean, even special people like you are susceptible –’
‘Shut up,’ Hajime said. He held his key out in Komaeda’s direction.
Komaeda’s smile was only evident in the crinkling of his eyes. He moved into Hajime’s space, forcing Hajime to step back, and unlocked the door with not a little flourish. Hajime couldn’t help but feel sour about it. He didn’t want to have to thank Komaeda, and it wasn’t as if he couldn’t have got in on his own ...
But Komaeda didn’t wait for thanks – he stepped into Hajime’s room and turned on the light.
‘What’re you doing?’
‘Getting the light,’ Komaeda said. ‘Is there anything else you need help with, I wonder?’
The way he looked at Hajime – he’d slipped out of his cheerful mode, and his expression was imperious. It made Hajime feel hot.
‘I’m fine,’ he said. ‘Can I have my key back?’
‘I don’t know,’ Komaeda said. He held his hand up. ‘It might be better to hold onto it. You are drunk, after all.’
‘Komaeda.’
Komaeda showed his empty palms. ‘What will you do, I wonder? If I just keep it?’
Hajime drew in a long breath. And his brain went into considering his options, as if he should be taking Komaeda’s question seriously.
He could tell Komaeda to give him his key back. He could ask Komaeda nicely to give him his key back.
He could skip asking and tackle Komaeda, except then he’d have to figure out where Komaeda had put the damn thing, and rifling through Komaeda’s pockets seemed a bad idea for several reasons.
If Hajime hadn’t drunk so much, Komaeda couldn’t have slipped the key away without him noticing.
If Hajime hadn’t drunk so much, he could’ve opened his own damn door.
‘If you don’t know,’ Komaeda said, ‘I have an idea. But you have to get on your knees first.’
‘You’re kidding.’
‘Kidding? I’ve got your key, Hinata-kun. But maybe you don’t need it. It’s only us on this island, right? And everyone’s so wonderful and they’re all reformed, so it’s not like anyone would do anything bad, right? So you don’t really need this at all. In fact, it’s better not to have it.’
Dumping Komaeda on his ass was seeming more and more appealing. Hajime made a grab for him, twisting his arm up behind his back and pushing him onto the bed. Komaeda didn’t resist, just gasped a little when Hajime pulled his arm back.
‘Where’d you put it, Komaeda?’
Komaeda gave a little laugh. ‘You’re so serious,’ he said. ‘But I suppose I’m the one out of line. I mean, really, trash like me –’ Twisting someone’s arm back didn’t seem to be as effective as it was on TV.
Hajime tried feeling for the pockets of Komaeda’s jacket.
‘I guess talented people don’t have to bother with good manners,’ Komaeda said. ‘You can just shove the rest of us around.’
Not in his jacket pockets. Which meant it was in the pockets of his pants, and Hajime wasn’t sure that was any less mortifying than just going along with Komaeda’s whims.
Komaeda’s breath seemed very loud, this close to him.
Hajime relaxed his grip. Stood up straight. Thought he had to treat this rationally somehow, except what was the rational explanation for Komaeda being in his room and holding his key hostage?
Let him keep it.
Komaeda sat back on the bed.
‘Are you done?’ Hajime asked.
‘I wasn’t kidding, Hinata-kun,’ Komaeda said. ‘So if you wouldn’t mind?’ He looked very definitely down at the ground at Hajime’s feet.
In that moment, it seemed like the path of least resistance. Which was why Hajime dropped to his knees and attempted to sound sincere.
‘Please, Komaeda, could you hand me my key back?’
For some reason, saying it so prettily made the skin on the back of his neck prickle. Looking up past his fringe at Komaeda, sprawled on his bed, Hajime felt suddenly and inappropriately turned on.
And he thought maybe Komaeda felt it too, because his face changed so quick, the smugness evaporating.
‘Please,’ Hajime said again, to see Komaeda turn pink and flustered.
Komaeda sat up straight and dug in the pocket of his pants for the key. He held it out to Hajime wordlessly.
It wasn’t like Komaeda to freak out so wordlessly, Hajime thought.
Hajime took the key from him and he said, ‘Happy now?’
Hajime was drunk. That’s why he was sitting on his heels like this, feeling himself become slow and patient in the face of Komaeda’s bewilderment.
He watched Komaeda’s throat as he swallowed.
Then Komaeda laughed and said, ‘I should apologise. I guess I got carried away.’
Only I should, Hajime noted.
Komaeda stood then, while Hajime stayed where he was, and he fled.
It seemed like he fled, and Hajime was left with his heart pounding, wondering exactly what it was had just happened between them.
In the morning, with a headache, Hajime was determined not to think about the night before. It only lasted until he saw Komaeda at breakfast. Then it came flooding back.
Getting to his knees. Having to ask. Which was so close to having to beg, and Hajime definitely wasn’t going to think about that. Not if it wasn’t going to make him feel properly disgusted. He had the awful feeling that in going along with Komaeda once, he’d opened something that shouldn’t have been opened.
Hajime watched Komaeda get his breakfast, and he had a flash of memory: Komaeda being tied up in the game world, and refusing food from anyone but Hajime.
Komaeda glanced Hajime’s way, and, very slowly, he smiled.
Hajime ate at the other end of the room, and faced the other way.
‘Come on, Hinata, have a drink. The bottles’re about to explode!’ Souda waved at him, and it was early in the day for a drink – but hot enough that if you’d done any work at all, you felt like you’d earned it.
So Hajime joined Souda in sitting there on the porch in the sun. Souda had roped in Owari and Koizumi too so far, though Koizumi stayed standing, as if she were determined not to join in.
Hajime took a sip of the drink Souda had handed him. ‘I think this is better than the other day,’ he said. Maybe it was just that it was so hot.
The other day, he’d let Komaeda goad him. But he wasn’t going to drink that much this time, and he wasn’t going to walk anywhere with Komaeda, or let Komaeda get anything over on him.
Easy to think that, on your first beer.
Later, Souda was wondering after Sonia – obnoxiously and loudly, so that Hajime volunteered to go find her. He’d warn her, of course, that Souda was drunk and maybe she’d prefer to make herself scarce.
When he knocked on her door, there was no response. There were a million other places he could have looked for her, but it was far too warm and he was feeling far too lazy to search.
But he’d come out to their rooms, so it was only fair to make the offer of drinks to anyone else who was around. Souda would be disappointed if Hajime showed up with someone other than Sonia, sure, but they’d only have to compliment the beer and he’d perk up.
That was only reason Hajime was knocking on Komaeda’s door. It was the polite thing to do.
Komaeda opened the door with a book in hand, so clearly Hajime had interrupted him. He looked a little wary.
‘What is it?’
Komaeda was only wearing a t-shirt, so his arm was more obvious that usual. Hajime wondered if it got very hot when Komaeda sat in the sun. He could do something about it if it did.
‘If you wanted a beer,’ Hajime said, ‘we’re having some.’
‘Is that all you came to ask?’
The annoyance in his voice seemed a little unjustified. It wasn’t like he couldn’t have a beer and read his book.
‘It’s hot,’ Hajime said. ‘I thought you might like one.’
Komaeda dropped his gaze down Hajime’s body, and Hajime felt his skin begin to prickle.
‘No pressure,’ he muttered.
‘It’s very considerate of you, Hinata-kun,’ Komaeda said. ‘But I have to admit I’m disappointed.’
Hajime bit his tongue on asking why. He looked over his shoulder – there was no-one else around. ‘Then are you going to invite me in instead?’
Komaeda looked surprised – but pleased, Hajime thought, and that was enough that Hajime walked in, before Komaeda could get any ideas about making Hajime earn that invitation.
Komaeda shut the door behind them. He’d opened the windows to make a through-draft, so it wasn’t stuffy inside.
‘You’ve been drinking already, haven’t you?’ Komaeda went to sit back down on the bed, facing Hajime.
Hajime took his shoes off, and tried not to think about Komaeda sitting on his bed the other night. Tried not to think about looking up at him.
‘Only a little,’ Hajime said. But he’d been thirsty, and he’d drunk faster than maybe he should have.
‘Only a little,’ Komaeda said, and he made it sound like a lie. He held his tongue between his teeth. ‘Then I suppose you won’t want to pick up where we left off, will you?’ He scuffed his foot against the floor. ‘Not with someone like me, anyway.’
Hajime stared at him, agape. ‘Where we left off?’ he repeated, his mouth gone dry.
‘You know,’ Komaeda said, and he looked at Hajime with a furious intensity.
Hajime had definitely drunk that beer too quickly. He dropped to his knees, a little carelessly, and he wet his lips.
He heard Komaeda take a breath, saw him tilt his head back, so he looked down his nose at Hajime.
‘You’re really one of them at heart, aren’t you?’ Komaeda said. ‘Happy to be told what to do, even by trash like me. Or is it just that you’re drunk, Hinata-kun?’
‘I don’t think like that,’ Hajime said.
Komaeda leaned forward and grabbed his face by the chin, forcing his head back. Examined Hajime’s eyes. ‘Do you think I’ll indulge you, when you talk back like that?’
Indulge you. There was something attractive about Komaeda, when he spoke down to Hajime.
‘What do you say, Hinata-kun?’
It was a pointless game. But Hajime still wanted to see where it went.
‘I won’t talk back,’ Hajime said.
‘No?’ Komaeda’s face wasn’t so far from Hajime’s, with the way he was leaning forward.
Hajime closed his eyes, imagining Komaeda’s breath. ‘I’ll be good.’
Komaeda’s thumb slipped up, brushed Hajime’s bottom lip.
‘People like us can never be good,’ Komaeda said, his voice husky. ‘Remember?’
Hajime opened his eyes, halfway, watching Komaeda’s hand. ‘I remember.’
Komaeda shifted his hand so that his fingers covered Hajime’s mouth. ‘I’m glad,’ he said.
And he took his hand away, and bent down to brush his lips against Hajime’s.
Hajime closed his eyes, opened his mouth to Komaeda.
When he pulled away, Komaeda said, ‘You know you taste like beer.’
‘Sorry.’
‘You should wash your mouth out.’ Komaeda’s voice slowed down, as if to consider the suggestion.
He stood up, stood over Hajime. He could have kicked him, and Hajime would have taken it.
Or he might make another suggestion. Things Hajime could do with his mouth.
‘Get on the bed,’ Komaeda said.
Hajime got on the bed, Komaeda too close to him as he stood up, Komaeda standing too close as he sat down, so Hajime had to lean back on his elbows.
He wondered if Komaeda was going to suggest he suck him off. It was what he was thinking about. And maybe Hajime would refuse. Or maybe not, because he liked imagining Komaeda instructing him in that tone of voice.
Komaeda pressed his hand on Hajime’s chest and pushed him onto his back, coming up to straddle him, his knees against Hajime’s thighs. His metal hand was next to Hajime’s head. How strong had they made it? Hajime didn’t know.
‘You must be desperate, Hinata-kun. Getting all excited about trash like me.’
‘I’m not –’ Hajime said, but stopped, because the way Komaeda looked at him ... well, it was a pathetic excuse, wasn’t it? So Hajime said instead, ‘You’re the same.’
Komaeda made an exaggeratedly skeptical face, lifting his hand from Hajime’s chest as if for emphasis. ‘Me?’ he said. ‘The same as you? The only thing special about you is what they made you.’
Which wasn’t what Hajime had been suggesting, but Komaeda seemed delighted to be so indignant. He touched his fingers over Hajime’s heart. ‘You’re really quite ordinary, Hinata-kun. At least I –’ He curled his lip in disdain.
‘You what?’
Komaeda traced his fingers up to Hajime’s neck and the bare skin there.
‘I have my luck,’ Komaeda said.
Maybe he was thinking of choking Hajime. It didn’t seem like such a threat as it might have done.
Komaeda folded his hand around Hajime’s neck. He leant down and kissed him, one lingering moment.
He pulled back and looked at Hajime through his lashes. ‘You want me to be nice to you, then?’
‘No.’
‘No?’
‘I don’t want you to be nice to me.’ That was the last thing he wanted from Komaeda, because it was all a lie.
‘Huh. Say, Hinata-kun.’ Komaeda brushed a circle on Hajime’s neck, which was irritatingly erotic. ‘Imagine if someone walked by and saw us like this.’
Hajime slid his gaze to the unshaded window. Souda was expecting him to come back, with or without Sonia. ‘It’s too hot with the sun coming in anyway,’ he said.
Komaeda sat up. ‘True,’ he said. ‘But Hinata-kun, I’m not interested in your being comfortable. I just wanted you to imagine it.’
Hajime missed the touch of Komaeda’s hand; the skin of his throat felt strangely cool.
‘If there’s something you want to do,’ Hajime said, ‘then do it.’
Komaeda looked at him. Then, with lazily shaped words, he said, ‘Take off your shirt.’
Hajime sat up on his elbows, and undid the buttons of his shirt. He was determined not to tremble. He kept his eyes fixed on Komaeda, who watched him intently.
Hajime slipped the shirt off his shoulders, and dropped it on the floor.
Komaeda reached out to touch him, skin to skin, and it set up a flame inside Hajime. Komaeda trailed his hand over Hajime’s chest, stopped to roll a nipple between his fingers.
Then with the other hand, the metal one, he took Hajime’s hand and pressed it back over Hajime’s head, pressing him down. The metal was pleasantly cool after all.
His other hand stroked downwards, over Hajime’s belly. Komaeda’s head was closer to his now, and Hajime tilted back, his lips parting.
Komaeda didn’t hesitate so much as he drew out the moment. Then he broke the space between them, kissing Hajime with his hot wet mouth, his fingers tightening against Hajime’s.
With his other hand he undid Hajime’s pants. Even that prospect was enough that Hajime was getting hard. And when he’d pulled Hajime’s cock free from his trousers, Komaeda sat back, and he said, ‘Jerk yourself off.’
It shouldn’t have sounded like such a good suggestion. Even though it was a little unfair for Komaeda to tell him that when he was right there, and Hajime could see he was interested.
But Hajime wanted to obey. And the look of satisfaction of Komaeda’s face when Hajime took himself in hand – that was hot on its own.
Was this what sex was meant to be like? Stroking yourself hard while your lover just watched, his eyes hungry? Slowing yourself down, because you liked the way it looked on his face.
Hajime liked the way Komaeda watched him. Any other time, he wouldn’t have admitted it. But now ...
Right now, anyone could have walked past and looked in, could have seen, and it didn’t bother him at all.
He started to think of wilder things, his legs spreading wider. To imagine that Komaeda might lower himself to use his mouth on Hajime. Or that Komaeda might ask him to do more than just jerk himself off ... Hajime was tempted to anyway, because being watched so intently was making him brazen ... what kind of a face would Komaeda make if Hajime were to start fingering himself? To even be considering it ... it was shameful, wasn’t it? But if Komaeda would have suggested it, Hajime would have done it.
If Komaeda would have wanted to fuck him ...
Hajime came, spilling messily onto his stomach.
Komaeda had an odd expression on his face. ‘Who knew you were so shameless?’ he said.
Hajime fluttered his eyes shut. ‘Why pretend?’
‘You could show a little self-respect.’
Hajime sat up. Looked down Komaeda’s body to the erection outlined in his pants.
‘Sorry to disappoint,’ he said. ‘Are you going to do something about that?’
Komaeda flushed.
Hajime leaned over, and with unsteady hands he unzipped Komaeda’s fly. Komaeda bit his lip, and Hajime wanted suddenly to kiss him.
So he did, bumping noses, and Komaeda let Hajime him, his tongue pliant and warm.
Hajime laid his hand on Komaeda’s cock, and Komaeda rocked into him. He was just about in Komaeda’s lap now, and it was strange how quiet Komaeda had gone, with their bodies close like this.
Hajime began to jerk Komaeda off, and kissed him even more deeply. Komaeda seemed to let it happen, holding his breath so as to keep quiet.
When he came, he buried his head against Hajime’s shoulder, and stayed silent, only his breath tickling the skin at Hajime’s neck.
After a minute, he pulled back. ‘Pathetic, aren’t we?’
Hajime lay back on the bed, scratching at his stomach. He really ought to clean up.
Komaeda got to his feet and headed for the bathroom. With the sound of the shower running, Hajime fell asleep.
Hajime woke later that afternoon, his body warm with sun, and with the weight of Komaeda on the bed next to him. The sun was lower in the sky now – he’d been asleep maybe an hour.
An hour. On the bed next to Komaeda.
Hajime sat up with a jolt, the grogginess of his nap leaving him. He’d fallen asleep like this. And Komaeda ...
Komaeda looked strangely gentle, sleeping. Hajime’s sudden awakening hadn’t disturbed him.
The tenderness Hajime felt scared him.
He couldn’t do this. He couldn’t feel tender toward Komaeda. It was bad enough to be having sex with him, let alone to be feeling kindly toward him about it.
Remembering what they’d done, Hajime covered his face with his hands.
He really had to stop drinking Souda’s booze. Drunkenness was insufficient an explanation for Hajime’s behaviour, but it was all he had to cling to.
Komaeda couldn’t wake up and find him like this. Hajime slipped off the bed, casting around for where he’d left his shirt. He dressed as quickly and as quietly as he could, aware that Komaeda could wake at any moment. He almost wished he would.
If Komaeda woke up, this would have to be real, and Hajime would have to deal with it.
As it was, he was running away.
Hajime was helping prepare dinner when he saw Komaeda again that evening. He startled so badly that he dropped the pot his was carrying and it landed heavily, water spilling out across the kitchen floor.
‘Lucky that was only cold water,’ Nidai said, with cheer, but Hajime could hardly hear him, the noise from the pot echoing in his ears. He was sure everyone could see his guilt written on his face.
‘Maybe I’m rubbing off on him,’ Komaeda said.
‘Shut up!’ Hajime scrambled to pick up the pot, dumping it back in the sink. He leaned over the bench, not looking at Komaeda. He didn’t want to see the face Komaeda was making.
‘Shall I go find you the mop?’
‘I’ll do it,’ Hajime snapped. It was an excuse to leave the room; his face was burning and he was afraid if he looked at Komaeda he’d lose it.
Stupid thought. He’d clearly already lost it.
When he got back to the kitchen, Komaeda was gone. But as Hajime mopped up the spill, Nidai gave him a talking to about cooking under the influence, so clearly Komaeda had said something. Maybe not the thing Hajime was afraid of, but Komaeda having anything over him infuriated him. He didn’t want to be reliant on Komaeda’s goodwill. It had been stupid, going to his room. It didn’t matter how simple it had felt at the time, or how good, or what a relief to just let himself go. That didn’t matter. It was a stupid thing to do and a stupider thing to have done with Komaeda. Of all people.
As if it could have been anyone else.
Things were tense, after that. Hajime had made it awkward but Komaeda made it awkwarder. He stopped talking to Hajime, except in backhanded ways that passed as self-deprecation if you didn’t know him well.
‘Come, Komaeda-san, that was a little harsh,’ Sonia said, in response to yet another one of Komaeda’s digs. ‘Hinata-san’s suggestion wasn’t that stupid,’
Hajime thought about walking out. They all knew who Komaeda was angry at; why not let it show?
Instead he took a deep breath, and said, ‘It’s fine. It was stupid.’ He glanced at Komaeda. He had his lip curled in a way that made Hajime nervous. ‘I was stupid,’ he said. ‘Let’s move on.’
Komaeda’s silence was almost as damning as his scorn.
‘So,’ Souda said later, sidling up to Hajime. ‘Hinata. You and Komaeda ...’
‘It’s nothing,’ Hajime said quickly.
‘Are you sure? Coz, ah ... Sonia-san asked me to check on you.’ Souda scratched his head and laughed. ‘Instructed me, actually. It was ... look, that doesn’t matter.’
Hajime must’ve let some of his misery show on his face, because Souda looked actually worried.
‘We had a fight, that’s all,’ Hajime said. ‘I said some things I shouldn’t have.’ It was a lie; Hajime hadn’t said the things he should have, not the other way around. And they hadn’t actually fought. They’d skipped over that part.
‘Yeah,’ Souda said. ‘He can be hard to deal with. I know we all agreed to stay together, but sometimes ...’ He gave Hajime an appraising look. ‘Maybe you guys should have have it out.’
‘What?’
‘Yeah, fight it out, man to man.’ Souda looked a little too enthusiastic about the idea. ‘Then you can both say you’re sorry and move on.’
As if it could be that simple.
‘Maybe you’re right.’
Souda’s face lit up. ‘Of course I’m right. You’ll see.’
Hajime wasn’t so sure, but it was nice to have Souda on his side. At least for now.
Fight it out. Say you’re sorry, and move on.
Easier said than done. Hajime didn’t actually want to fight Komaeda. He entertained, briefly, the idea of offering to let Komaeda hit him, but that daydream got very dirty very quickly.
The trouble was Hajime didn’t want to move on. He’d liked what they’d had, that afternoon, and he wanted not to care what anyone thought about it. But if he couldn’t have that ...
Souda was right. Apologise, and move on. That was what he should do. That was the right thing to do.
He told himself it was the right thing to do.
But maybe getting drunk again wasn’t the right way to psych himself up for it.
It wasn’t like it was the only reason he was drinking. He was being social, fitting in. Quieting the voice at the back of his head that sounded like Kamukura.
He wasn’t like getting drunk specifically to confront Komaeda. But maybe it made him more brazen about it. Because when he took his first drink, he caught Komaeda’s eye. Like it was a fight they were warming up to.
‘Don’t drink too much, Hinata-kun,’ Komaeda said. ‘You never know who you’ll end up doing.’
Hajime almost spat out his drink. He ended up choking on it instead, Souda offering to pound him on the back, he was coughing so much. And Hajime couldn’t look him in the eye, couldn’t look at anyone, because how could Komaeda have said that, in front of them all? It wasn’t even like that, it couldn’t have been just anyone ... but no-one would believe it anyway ...
All the coughing was a distraction, at least.
Komaeda didn’t leave right away. Hajime had been expecting him to, but Komada accepted a drink from Souda – didn’t drink it, but accepted it – and settled into conversation with Mioda.
Or let Mioda talk, at any rate. Hajime noticed that Komaeda didn’t do much of the talking. Just like he noticed Komaeda not drinking. He couldn’t stop noticing. And as the hour ticked by, he felt less and less like stopping was something he should do.
When Komada did turn in the for the evening, Hajime was probably not as subtle as he could have been about following him outside.
It might’ve worked better if he hadn’t stumbled on the steps outside. He fell hard onto his hands and knees, the impact jarring his body. He hadn’t torn his pants, when he checked himself over, but the grazes on the palms of his hand stung and he was going to have to clean the grit out of them –
When he looked up, Komaeda was standing over him. ‘You’re pathetic,’ Komaeda said.
Something in Hajime relaxed. ‘You didn’t even drink anything,’ he said. ‘You just pretended. Isn’t that pathetic?’
‘Ah, well,’ Komaeda said, ‘trash like me, it can only be expected. Of course you saw through me.’
He offered Hajime a hand up. Possibly Hajime should have thought twice about taking it, but Komaeda only pulled him upright, supporting Hajime’s weight as he steadied himself.
‘You stink of it,’ Komaeda muttered.
A feeling washed over Hajime – not shame, but not something unlike it. ‘You like me when I’m drunk.’
Maybe it was an offer. Komaeda could have taken it that way, and things would have been alright. But instead he shut Hajime down.
‘You’re wrong,’ he said. ‘I like getting off. It’s not the same thing.’
‘You don’t –’
‘Don’t follow me, Hinata-kun.’
Komaeda left him. Hajime stood there confused, wondering where he’d gone wrong. And a little pissed off that Komaeda hadn’t given him a chance.
‘Just coz I didn’t stick around.’ His voice was too loud. ‘You don’t have to be a dick about it.’
They weren’t the words he’d meant to say, and they didn’t make Komaeda stop.
He hated Komaeda not talking to him.
You didn’t know what Komaeda was thinking, if he wouldn’t tell it to you. You didn’t know what he might be planning. There were rational reasons for Hajime to dislike it, and he could have listed them if anyone had tried asking.
You didn’t know if Komaeda were alright.
He knew Komaeda wasn’t happy. Every time Hajime saw him, he seemed to be reading something different, and he was going to run out of books if he continued at that pace. While he was polite to the others, he retreated from them. Just like he’d retreated from Hajime.
Hajime noticed these things. He couldn’t stop noticing.
It was a surprise then, when only a few nights later, Komaeda showed up on Hajime’s doorstep. More surprising, how Hajime’s heart leapt to see him.
‘What are you doing?’ Hajime asked.
‘I’m giving up my self-respect for the evening,’ Komaeda said. He held a bottle of wine, which he foisted off on Hajime before coming inside.
‘You’re what?’
‘You want me to repeat myself, Hinata-kun?’
Hajime shut the door behind him. Komaeda was taking off his shoes, like he intended to make himself at home.
‘Why would you say something like that?’ Hajime asked. Komaeda gestured for the wine, and Hajime gave it to him. Komaeda drank straight from the bottle, then handed it back.
‘I got sick of waiting for you,’ Komaeda said.
Hajime flushed. ‘Sorry,’ he said, and took a swig of the wine. He wasn’t sure what that had to do with Komaeda’s self-respect, but he could understand that he’d hurt Komaeda’s pride. Komaeda could be awfully proud, for someone who put himself down so much.
Komaeda pretended to do a double take. ‘Did you just say sorry?’
‘I said sorry.’
‘Well,’ Komada said. ‘I don’t forgive you.’ He took the wine bottle back from Hajime.
‘If you don’t, then why are you here?’
‘I could ask the same question,’ Komada said. He took another drink of the wine, and Hajime wondered if he were already drunk. ‘I want you to prove it,’ he said.
‘Prove it?’ Wasn’t the admission enough? Even if he hadn’t been able to come out with it on his own, and Komaeda had had to come get it from him ...
Komaeda had come to him.
‘You’re so clueless,’ Komaeda said.
‘I don’t know what –’
‘Sex, Hinata-kun. You have to prove you’re sorry with sex.’
Hajime grew even hotter. He muttered, ‘I didn’t think the sex was in question.’
Komaeda laughed at him. He sat down on Hajime’s bed and placed the wine bottle on the floor. ‘Hey, Hinata-kun,’ he said, ‘how about you tell me what you’re sorry for.’
Hajime sat down on the bed beside him, cautiously. He stared at his hands. ‘I’m sorry I ran out on you,’ he said. The words came in a rush. ‘And for how I behaved afterwards.’
‘Mm. But it’s not like I can believe you now, is it? I got you drunk again. So now I’m just taking advantage.’
‘What?’
‘I mean, you’re so easy when you’re drunk. You’ll say anything if you think it might get you laid.’
‘I’m not drunk.’
‘Shh.’
Hajime thought maybe he was missing something. Then Komaeda leaned over to kiss him.
It went on for long enough that Hajime started to think he was off the hook. Then Komaeda pulled back and said, eyes bright, ‘Tell me why you left, Hinata-kun. What are you sorry for?’
‘Um.’ They were still playing this, then. ‘Do I have to?’
‘Yes. You’re not very good at apologising, you know.’
Hajime screwed up his face. Wondered if he could get away with just kissing Komaeda some more. It was what he wanted to do. But then they’d just be in the same position they already were in.
‘It’s not ...’ He trailed off. ‘I just didn’t want to deal with it. That’s not weird.’
‘Isn’t it?’
‘Komaeda.’ He reached out a hand; Komaeda smacked it away.
‘You can touch me when I tell you to,’ Komaeda said.
Hajime fisted his hand in the sheet.
‘Explain to me. What didn’t you want to deal with? You’re usually so good with explanations. So thorough.’
It shouldn’t have been hot, the way he pronounced the word thorough.
‘Well, it’s not like I like you or anything, right?’ Hajime said. ‘I didn’t want to deal with it.’ His voice was running too fast, and he couldn’t look at Komaeda.
‘You’re ashamed, right? You’re worried I might tell someone.’
‘I’m not worried,’ Hajime said. It wasn’t the fear of being found out so much as the simple fact of it. That’s what scared him.
Komaeda took another drink, then passed the bottle to Hajime. Hajime hesitated. He couldn’t tell what Komaeda was thinking.
‘It must be really awful for you,’ Komaeda said, ‘not-liking someone like me.’ His voice was distant. ‘How could you even stand touching me, I wonder?’
‘Komaeda, it’s not like that. Don’t make it like that.’ He wanted to reach out; he could have shaken Komaeda. ‘I said I was sorry.’
‘Right. And I’m sure I’m grateful.’
‘Don’t ... Komaeda.’ Hajime set the bottle down on the floor undrunk, moved his body to face Komaeda. He knew Komaeda was mad. He deserved him being mad. He should’ve done things differently, he knew. Apologised sooner. Woken Komaeda up instead of leaving him alone.
He couldn’t imagine it. ‘I know I’m bad at this.’
‘Fine,’ Komaeda said. ‘Then apologise properly.’
Slowly, feeling heavy, Hajime got down on the floor. This was what they’d been dancing around, wasn’t it?
‘Forgive me,’ he said. ‘I’m useless and I don’t deserve it –’ the words came more easily than he’d thought they would – ‘I don’t deserve forgiveness, I don’t deserve your kindness, but ...’ He wasn’t sure now that he was even apologising for the things he was meant to. ‘Please, Komaeda, I know that I’m pathetic, that I’m a wretch –’ desperate, a loser, so many words for his failure; he had so little to be proud of, so why did he even try to act like he was better than Komaeda?
‘You can do what you want to me,’ Hajime said, the words feeling familiar to him. ‘You can even –’ Did he really want to take it this far? But his tongue was already between his teeth; the words were already waiting – ‘You can even punish me, if you like.’
He wasn’t looking at Komaeda any more. But he heard Komaeda’s in-drawn breath.
He really was pathetic, because he even wanted to be punished. With the others, he could pretend they were working toward something worthwhile. With the others, he could profess hope and pretend that he was worthwhile. Not with Komaeda.
‘Is that what you want, then? Truly, Hinata-kun? You don’t want forgiveness at all.’
‘I don’t deserve it.’
‘You don’t, do you?’
Komaeda leaned forward, grabbed Hajime along his collarbone. ‘I’m going to fuck you,’ he said, ‘and you’re not allowed to touch yourself.’
Hajime’s eyes went wide. Komaeda forced him to look up, forced him to listen.
‘You’ll want to come, but you’re not allowed, get it?’
‘I get it.’
‘Take your clothes off.’
Komaeda drank as watched Hajime undress. Hajime felt nervous, stripping down in front of him, but it wasn’t a bad nervousness. Some fear wasn’t a bad thing.
Komaeda put the bottle back down. Casually, he undid his pants and took his cock out. Started to jerk himself off, watching Hajime. Waiting for Hajime.
It scared Hajime and it turned him on, both at the same time.
‘Come here,’ Komaeda said, when Hajime was naked. Hajime stepped forward, into his reach. ‘You like being told what to do?’
Hajime bit his lip. It wasn’t something he wanted to admit to. But if he was going to play along ...
‘I like it.’
Komaeda ran a hand down Hajime’s chest, stopping at his navel.
‘Let’s say someone else asked,’ Komaeda said, caressing Hajime’s skin frustratingly. ‘Let’s say Sonia-san told you to fuck her. Would you do it, I wonder?’
‘Of course not,’ Hajime said, surprising himself with his vehemence.
Komaeda’s lip quirked.
Hajime could just push him down, shut him up that way ... but he was being good.
Komaeda moved his hand round to cup Hajime’s ass. ‘What if I told you to?’
‘What?’
‘What if I told you to fuck her? What if we had an arrangement?’ And he smacked Hajime’s ass, startling him.
‘That’s –’ Hajime wasn’t going to imagine Komaeda and Sonia having an arrangement. Being ordered to service Sonia ... no, he wasn’t going to imagine it.
Komaeda ran his fingers along the cleft of Hajime’s ass, and Hajime lost his train of thought.
Komaeda was serious.
Komaeda was going to fuck him. Hajime was going to let him do it.
‘Hinata-kun? Don’t you have an answer?’ He spoke so smoothly, like he wasn’t rubbing his fingers against Hajime’s hole. And it shouldn’t feel so good, should it? It shouldn’t be so delicious a sensation.
‘If you’re asking,’ Hajime said, ‘maybe.’
Komaeda smirked at him. ‘I wouldn’t ask.’
Then he spat on his fingers and he reached around again and –
God.
He slipped a finger inside Hajime and Hajime went weak; he grabbed onto Komaeda’s shoulder, resting his forehead against Komaeda’s. He hadn’t thought that just getting fingered would feel good. He would have thought that his body should’ve resisted more. This was meant to be the punishment, right? Komaeda using him as a toy ... not Hajime getting hard like he wanted it.
‘Look at you,’ Komaeda said. ‘You like that, Hinata-kun?’
He liked it. He liked the insistent motion, and the way Komaeda curled his fingers inside him. He couldn’t help but cry out then, thinking it wouldn’t matter whether he touched himself or not, he was going to come just like this. He wouldn’t be able to stop himself.
But Komaeda stopped. Slipped his fingers free and ignored Hajime’s whine of protest.
‘You’re so easy,’ Komaeda said, and tilted his head to kiss Hajime – barely a peck, a touch of approval. ‘Don’t you move.’
Hajime waited as Komaeda slicked himself up, keeping his hands to himself. He really did just want to push Komaeda down, to rub himself against him, to have his own hands on Komaeda’s cock, maybe even his mouth ...
Komaeda pulled Hajime on top of him then, lying back on the bed. He kissed Hajime’s mouth, kissed his neck, took both Hajime’s hands in his and held them between them. ‘Sit up,’ he said, his eyes laughing, and pushed Hajime on his chest.
Hajime sat up. Komaeda’s cock pressed against his ass, and he got it then. It was mortifying, but he got it. He positioned himself above Komeda, feeling flustered, aware of how closely Komaeda was watching him, aware of just what he was doing ...
He guided himself down on Komaeda’s cock, gasped.
And that was it. That was Komaeda inside of him, stretching him. Hajime rocked his hips, experimentally, and Komaeda gasped his name, thrust up in turn.
It felt good. It didn’t feel like a punishment at all.
Hajime began to move against Komaeda. Komaeda made small helpless noises, digging his fingers into Hajime’s skin. It was intoxicating, to have that power over someone. And at some point Hajime had stopped feeling guilty or meek, had lost all thoughts apart from the desire to feel good and to make Komaeda feel good in turn.
‘H-Hinata,’ Komaeda said, strangling his name. ‘Wait.’
Hajime ignored him, kept riding him, until Komaeda physically sat up and tumbled him over onto his back. Hajime almost laughed, but Komaeda covered his mouth and shut him up with kisses.
Hajime wrapped his legs around Komaeda’s back, and he let Komaeda fuck him. He forgot everything else.
And it turned out that Hajime could come without being touched. He almost sobbed with the relief of it, but Komaeda kept thrusting into him, overwhelming him, until Komaeda came too, Hajime’s name sweetly on his lips.
And they were both panting, Komaeda pulling himself out and collapsing on his front beside Hajime. ‘God, Hinata-kun,’ he said into the bed. He sounded like he was smiling. Hajime turned on his side to face him, unable not to smile back.
‘I’m glad you came over,’ he said.
‘You’re welcome,’ Komaeda said. He peeked out at Hajime, looking almost shy.
Hajime reached out a hand to brush back Komaeda’s hair. ‘I mean it,’ he said. ‘I did want to apologise. I meant to ...’ Komaeda watched him with half-lidded eyes. ‘I’m just messed up about it all.’
‘I know that,’ Komaeda said. ‘You make everything hard on yourself.’ He sighed a deep breath. ‘Can I use your shower?’
‘Yeah.’ Hajime wasn’t in a hurry to move. He still felt floppy and luxurious. ‘Then come back to bed,’ he said.
Komaeda gave him a look, like Hajime had meant it in some filthy way. Hajime hadn’t; he just wanted them to fall asleep together.
But he didn’t mind if Komaeda thought he was up for this again later.
It was the next afternoon, and Hajime was talking to Souda.
‘I keep thinking how we’ll never have anything normal now,’ Souda said. ‘Like kids, you know. I think I would’ve liked a big family.’
Hajime wasn’t really listening. ‘I slept with Komaeda,’ he said.
‘You what?’
‘Multiple times. I slept with Komaeda multiple times.’
‘No way.’ Souda did a double take. ‘You’re gay.’
‘I’m not gay.’
‘You just said –’
‘Maybe a little gay.’ Hajime dropped his head into his hands. ‘That’s not the point.’
‘Uh, I think it’s a big part of the point.’
‘It’s not like it matters,’ Hajime said. Souda was gaping at him. But Hajime couldn’t live on this island and keep it a secret. He felt guilty enough without adding lies on top of that.
‘So,’ Souda said. ‘Which one of you is the girl?’
‘That’s –’ Hajime’s face went hot, but Souda just laughed and slapped him on the back.
‘I’m kidding,’ he said. Paused. ‘We all know Komaeda’s the girl.’
Hajime covered his face with his hands. ‘You know it doesn’t work like that, right?’
‘Dude, I don’t need to know how it works! Now I’ve got to think about it!’
‘You really don’t.’
‘Too late,’ Souda said, sounding haunted. ‘I thought about it.’ Then, when Hajime didn’t respond, he said, ‘I can’t believe you’re getting laid and I’m not.’
Hajime tried not to laugh, afraid of sounding hysterical.
‘See, it’s completely wrong. That’s what I’m saying. You’re gay, I’m single...’
‘Shut up,’ Hajime said, actually laughing. Souda laughed with him, completely unbothered.
And Hajime thought it would be alright.