DRAWN (26 page)

          “But he loves you, too, doesn’t he?” I blurt out.

          Yuki’s lips compress.

          Oh, shite. I’ve asked another stupid question. I bite my lip very hard. I get it that he hates Sascha. I get it that he loves Akito, too. But it’s not like his dad’s blameless. He was an adult and Yuki was a kid. He should have, I don’t know, some kind of fatherly instincts to know the bloody hell his wife’s – Yuki’s
mom –
putting his own flesh and blood through.

          Right?

          I want to tell Yuki that. But when I look at him, I lose courage. I remember how happy he was the whole time he had been with Akito-san.

          I say lightly, “I’m going to call a time-out for our game, because I really have to ask this.”

          Yuki sounds wary when he asks, “What is it,
senpai
?”

“Are you sure you’re Sascha’s real son?”

          Yuki looks at me blankly.

          “Your mom’s gotta be insane to do that to her own son!”

          He doesn’t answer.

          Oh, okay.

          Chewing on my lip, I venture, “Maybe you’ve been switched with another baby at the hospital and that’s why she’s so mean. Or maybe your dad has a first wife no one knows about and she died giving birth so he---”

          Yuki’s laughter is exactly what I’ve hoped for.

          “Ah,
senpai.
I’m sorry to disappoint you, but my, err, background is not as colorful as you think it is. It probably would have been good for your
manga
character, wouldn’t it?”

          Yes, it would have been good, but not just for my
manga
character. For him, too. It would hurt less if Sascha’s not his real mom.

          “I just can’t believe your own mom can do something like that to you.” Then again, I can’t believe his dad was able to let him down like that either, but I don’t say the words. I’m no god, but I know the lines that I can’t cross.

          “I can,” Yuki says easily. “You just have to look at it differently.”

          “How else can you look at it?” I’m honestly confused. Hurting for him, too. She’s crazy evil. He’s the sweetest boy in the world. They just
can’t
be related. How else can you explain it?

          “She’s just the woman who gave birth to me, but she’s never been my mom.”

          I collapse against my seat. That’s just so twisted it makes scary sense. No wonder he’s got this weird “don’t go falling in love with me” policy. When you have Sascha’s so-called motherly love and Akito-san’s fatally blind love as example, no amount of convincing from Merriam-Webster will ever convince him that love’s not always a bad thing.

          Sneaking a look at Yuki’s face, I see his mask still in place. Wanting to make it up to him, I blurt out, “Let’s get back to playing.”

          Yuki’s head twists sideways to me in surprise. “
Senpai,
you actually sound
excited.
”

          Actually, it’s desperation he’s hearing. I badly want to see him smile again, or just maybe have his baby blues gleam with its usual wicked carefree light. But right now, I’m guessing I’m better off with Yuki thinking I’m sex mad. If he knew the truth, he’d probably mistake my feelings as pity, and that might just make him mad enough to feed me veggies for the rest of my life.

          “What’s your question then?”

          Right. A question. It has to be something that’s…
not
serious, one that can make a smile crack the perfectly beautiful mask on his face.

          “Umm…when did you have, uhh, when was the first time…you…did it?” 

          “Twelve.”

          Really? Twelve? No wonder he’s so good at turning me on. But really, twelve? I’m not even sure if I should feel good or bad for him. Twelve’s awfully---

          “My turn,
senpai
.”

          Oh, shite.

          Yuki’s words, uttered in his lowered voice, have me swallowing audibly. 

          “Cross your arms over your chest, but make sure you cup your bre---”

          “I get it!” I don’t think I’ll ever be ready to hear him say
that
kind of word. I’m half scared that if I let him say such words, I’d totally be over Yuki and to hell with my imaginary, self-locked chastity belt. When I think of him saying those words, I can imagine Yuki guiding me to bend on all fours as he bends over me from behind, whispering all the dirty words I can’t ever say---

          “Stop fantasizing,
senpai
.”

          Right. Right. Right.

          This is so bloody hard.

          I slowly do as he says, extremely conscious of the heat of Yuki’s gaze as I feel his eyes following my every move. Shock runs through my body like an electric pulse as I cup myself, unable to believe that I’m turned on by my own touch.

          “Feels good, doesn’t it,
senpai
?” Yuki’s purring again.

          I hate and love it when he purrs.

          “Arse.”

          “It’s because I’m watching you.”

          Bloody hell, he’s right.

          “Can I just ask my next question?” I need to change the subject right this minute.

          “Of course,
senpai
.”

          “Who did you do it with…I mean…the first time?” A part of me is jealous when I imagine Yuki shagging someone else. But another part of me is turned on, like it’s never been before, imagining a sweet and oh-so-innocent Yuki, not knowing where to put his hands, what to touch, not---

          I’m going to have another freaking nosebleed if I continue with this line of thought.

          When I look back at Yuki, he’s smirking, but his voice is very polite when he asks, “May I answer your question now,
senpai
?”

          I nod. I can’t trust myself to speak just yet.

          “It was a college student. She’s the daughter of a family friend and we saw each other frequently in the usual parties.” Yuki pauses.

          I’m not going to take the bait. I’m not. But I only last three seconds before I snarl, “Okay, fine, consider this my second question. How did it happen?” I glare at him, too, just so he knows how unfair he’s being. Stupid, bloody, smart god.

          “I was quite tall by then,
senpai
. And they said I looked and acted mature for my age, because I was too still and quiet.”

          Those last words make me want to cry. If Yuki had been twelve, then that meant he already knew about his mom. That would explain why he was “too still and quiet”. Finding your mom in bed with another guy is not exactly going to make you all friendly, would it? For all you know, the guy you’d meet down the local sushi bar is someone your mom’s banged as well. If I were in his shoes, I’d be bloody catatonic.

          “Stop staring at me like that,
senpai
.”

          “I---”

          “And stop frowning. There’s nothing to solve about me.”

          I haven’t even realized I was frowning. I try to be light-hearted, but I just can’t. “Your mom’s so bloody awful,” I mumble. I just have to get it off my chest. “I’m so sorry I made you talk about it, Yuki.”

          “No worries,
senpai
. I’ll make you feel sorry in another way soon enough.”

          Oh, shite.

          “Now, Yuki…”

          “A new twist,
senpai
.”

          Bloody, bloody, bloody---

          “Touch me, please.”

          What?

          I cough. “Umm, what did you say again?”

          Yuki says very pleasantly, “Touch my---”

          “Okay, okay, I get the
where
part.” Yeeaargh! Now, I really can’t look at him.     

I mean, really.

          Touch him, ha!

          “
Senpai
…”

          “Give me a minute,” I strangle out, still petrified in my seat.

          “I’m already hard for you so there’s not much work for you to do.”

          “
So why do I still have to
?”

          “Because I want you turned on as I am.”

          I stare at him incredulously. Um, hello? I’ve been turned on since he said the words
make out
and
car
in one sentence. Bloody hell, even my body’s headlights are in full switch, and I feel them poking against my hands. Talk about bloody embarrassing.

          Cars start moving again, giving me a reprieve I’m not even sure is helping me. I just feel tenser and tenser in my seat. I can’t take my eyes off his fingers, remembering Yuki in his video and how he’s pleasured himself. Am I going to do that to him now?

          When Yuki’s car slows down, I’m a confused mess.

          “Take off your hands slowly.”

          I do as commanded.

          “You’re hot for me, aren’t you,
senpai
?”

          “Piss. Off.”

          I start to cover my chest again.

          “No.”

          “But---”

          “I want to see how much your body wants me,
senpai
.”

          My arms slowly fall back on my sides. This is going to be so, so bad again.

“Touch me now,
senpai
.”

          I start to turn toward him.

          “No,
senpai
. Just look straight ahead so nothing’s obvious.”

          Oh. Right.

          “Now, scoot as close as you can to the edge of your seat---that’s right,
senpai
.” His voice purrs in satisfaction, and my body reacts again. Gah! My headlights have never, err, shone so brightly.

          “Reach for me now,
senpai
.”

          Right. Reach for him. That’s so very easy – if the nerves in my fingers haven’t just died. They’re completely immovable.

          “I don’t think I can,” I whisper.

          “Yes, you can,
senpai
. Because I say so.”

          Well, that makes sense. The god speaks, ergo the mortal follows.

          “
Senpai
.”

          “Okay, okay.” Scowling at all the cars ahead of us with its taillights flashing red, I slowly reach for him. When my fingers bump accidentally into the shift stick, Yuki coughs, but it still sounds more like a chuckle.

          “Piss off,” I say, but then I can’t speak anymore because I’m touching him already.

          We’re both silent, and there’s no sound except for that one time Yuki’s sucked his breath in.

          My fingers itch to move, but at the same time I want to tear my fingers away. I’m touching him, but I’m not yet holding him and I don’t know if I want it to change.

          Yuki takes the decision away from me, and one secret part of me is glad that he has.

          “Unzip my jeans,
senpai
.”

          Bloody hell. Really?

          “No---don’t look,
senpai
. Keep your eyes straight ahead. Yes, just the zipper.”

          When I manage to pull the zipper down completely, he says, “Hold me,
senpai
.”

          This is going to be---

          Oh.

          Yuki feels hard, which shouldn’t have surprised me but it does. It takes me a moment to really get my fingers in because Yuki’s jeans are tight, and I’m even clumsier than usual. Even with all the wriggling I do to squeeze my fingers in, I still only manage to hold just a part of him. The rest of it seems to…go on.

          I gulp, and my fingers inadvertently squeeze around him.

          Yuki sucks his breath in again.

          When there’s movement again, I start to take my hand away.

          “Don’t take your hand away,
senpai
,” Yuki grits out.

          “Uhh…okay.” How crazy is it that I’m actually bloody excited he’s said that?

          “
Senpai
.”

          “Yeah?”

          “Start moving your hand.”

          Right.

          Move.

          My hand.

          I can do that.

          In a while.

          When I hear Yuki start to speak again, my hand moves almost in cue and Yuki sucks his breath in once more.

          Yeeargh!

          I feel like my hand is suddenly possessed, by something that makes it impossible for my hand to stop moving. My body’s no better, swaying toward Yuki like he’s a magnet my skin is
desperate
to come into contact with.