Foxfire (Nine Tails, 1) (7 page)

“
Oh.”

“
Oh? Is that all you can
say?” She grabbed his chin and made him look up. “Masaki was being
patient and sweet, but you threw it in his face.”

“
Sweet? He spied on me.
I’m guessing you can’t understand that, how it makes me
feel.”

“
No, not really. I could
care less who sees what I do.” She pulled her hand away. “But you
should be flattered.”

“
Tell that to anyone who’s
been stalked. It’s scary!”

“
You didn’t even know
about it until a few minutes ago! And you haven’t exactly sounded
scared.” She laughed and moved to a mirror, adjusting one of her
hairpins, the bells tinkling.

“
But if Masaki can sense
things, I’m sure you can sense even more. It did scare
me.”

She continued smiling, but at least
she didn’t laugh at him again. “I suppose I did feel a change, but
it was more fear of what he’d seen, what he’d think. You weren’t
afraid he would hurt you.” She waved her hand. “Come look. This is
how he does it. And why there’re so many mirrors in the
house.”

Hiro moved toward the wall and saw
images there in place of a reflection. Masaki wore a pair of linen
pants and nothing else. He sat on the edge of his bed looking off
into the distance. A moment later, he rose and stretched before
running his hand down his face. He held out his hand, and a glass
of what seemed to be orange juice appeared there. He drank half of
it and then set it down. He walked over to his dresser and stared
at his reflection, his expression unreadable. Then his face
softened, and he shook his head before moving to the closet. He
pulled out clothes for the day and hung them on a hook on the
bathroom door.

Then he dropped his pants. Hiro
averted his eyes, but Inari pulled him close and made him look.
Masaki had a muscular, massive body. Hiro blushed, both from the
lust stirring and from thoughts of how his much thinner, less toned
body must look to Masaki. When Masaki reached down to touch his
cock, stroking it a few times until he had a half-mast erection,
Hiro felt his own body respond.

“
Please, stop. I get it.
But we shouldn’t be watching this.” Hiro didn’t struggle though,
his eyes locked on the fingers gliding over that shaft.

“
Perhaps we shouldn’t. But
I wanted you to see what it’s like. He feels the way you’re feeling
as he admires you this way. He never watched you until after he’d
come to respect and enjoy your work.” She leaned in, her lips
touching his ear. “And don’t put yourself down. He thinks you’re
beautiful and longs to touch you.”

“
But that’s just lust.
That’s all I’m feeling now.”

“
So you say. It must be
more, since you wanted to stop, to respect his privacy.”

Masaki jerked himself for a while, but
then he got in the shower and began to wash, ignoring his bouncing
erection, which Hiro could not seem to do.

Inari backed off a bit but still held
him. “He watches you draw even more. For hours, in fact. He admires
you for your talent and passion.”

Hiro watched water and soap flow down
Masaki’s body, and he wanted the man to touch himself again. He
jerked his head to look away. “Please, my lady.”

A man cleared his throat. “You mean
‘my lord’, I think.”

Hiro stumbled trying to get out of the
man’s arms. “You … you really…”

“
Yes, I really can change
whenever I please.” A handsome man twice Hiro’s size stood there.
Naked, his cock erect.

Before Hiro could move, he found
himself flung on the bed and pinned beneath the man. Inari’s long
hair fell in waves over Hiro’s body, and while the contact felt
good, Hiro couldn’t help being afraid. Inari was not a wicked kami,
yet Masaki had pointed out that every god possessed some dark
qualities. Hiro’s pajama bottoms were thin, his erection obvious.
Inari looked but did not touch, smiling.

“
If Masaki were a bad man,
he wouldn’t be granting your every wish and making small talk over
dinner. He’d have had you like this within moments of Akira
leaving. He wouldn’t be asking you to draw for him just to have the
pleasure of observing you. He’d have you bound, his cock in your
mouth or your ass any time he pleased.” Inari shifted, his legs
still pinning Hiro’s and his hands moving to secure Hiro’s wrists
over his head. He leaned down, still not touching, but his hot
breath caressed Hiro’s skin. “You’re beautiful, despite what you
think. Other men have thought so, but you’ve denied your true
nature. Will you let me show you how two men can be together?
Masaki can have you back afterwards.”

Hiro’s heart raced, but his fear faded
with every word, which baffled him. Anyone observing this scene
would assume he was about to be raped, yet Hiro didn’t fear that.
He stared up at Inari, who looked so handsome and powerful above
him. His body was chiseled and truly god-like, every line and
muscle perfect.

“
I’d love to draw you,”
Hiro said, taking a chance and acting on instinct.

Inari stared down at him. “Did you not
hear my offer?”

“
I did, and I politely
decline.”

Inari leaned closer. “I’m a god. I
don’t have to honor that.” His mouth was a breath away from
touching Hiro’s skin, but still no contact.

“
But you’re angry because
I’m hurting Masaki. Forcing me, or even seducing me, would hurt him
more. You won’t harm me. I … your touch … I can’t explain. Your
presence is calming me somehow, but not as a trick.”

A smile slowly spread over Inari’s
face. “Do you truly wish to draw me?”

Hiro sat up as Inari moved off him.
“Do you ever actually need me to answer any question?”

Inari laughed, rising from the bed but
not bothering to dress. “You’re a smart boy, another thing Masaki
likes.”

All his life, Hiro had been praised
for being creative, but never for being smart. He smiled, feeling
shy a moment. “I’d love to draw you, but with clothes on. And, um…”
He trailed off, wondering if he was allowed to make
requests.

“
You don’t wish for Masaki
to know about this.”

Hiro nodded. “I don’t want him to know
what you did. It might bother him.”

“
He would forgive me
anything.”

“
But just don’t tell him,
okay? And I want something else as well.”

Inari laughed, the deep sound rumbling
over Hiro. “What’s that?”

“
I want to see if he’ll
admit to watching me. And, uh, I’d like to know when he’s watching
me.”

Inari nodded. “All right. You’ll feel
a warmth and tingling whenever his eyes are on you. Now, what will
you give me in return?”

Hiro paused, realizing he had little
to offer. “I could decorate a shrine. Create images to honor you
and your kitsune. Depict legends about you, the ones you
like.”

Inari rubbed his chin, and Hiro almost
smiled. He could tell Inari was teasing him, pretending he had to
think on it, and the humanness of it struck Hiro as comical.
Finally, Inari nodded.

“
I only ask one thing: if
you cannot love him, do not hurt him.”

“
He loves me?”

Inari hesitated. “True love is not yet
in his heart, but you’re very precious to him. Your work truly
speaks to the deepest part of him. Tread carefully.”

Hiro bowed. “I promise, my
lord.”

Inari held up one finger in warning.
“I love him. Remember that. Even beneficent kami have no qualms
about punishment.”

“
He told me about how he
was, uh, born.”

Inari’s eyes clouded a moment, as if
reliving a bad memory. “Yes. A sad day, though it yielded a
blessing nonetheless. Do you see why you can trust Masaki? My
kitsune all know one thing deep in their hearts—forcing the act of
love is vile, a loathsome and dishonorable crime.”

Hiro nodded solemnly. “Yes, I see. I
should have thought on that. His words when he told the story
displayed how much the man’s actions repulsed him.” Shame filled
him as he again thought of how his reaction might’ve offended
Masaki.

Coming forward, Inari placed a gentle
kiss to Hiro’s lips, and Hiro did not resist, sensing the act was a
blessing of sorts, not a seduction attempt. “My lord,” he said,
bowing once more.

Inari backed away but still studied
him. “You have a question.”

Hiro blushed but cleared his throat.
“If I’d been willing, would you’ve slept with me?”

Without hesitation, Inari shook his
head. “Sweet as you would have been, no. I’d have left you here and
then told Masaki how the sight of his naked body had inflamed
you.”

Hiro’s mouth dropped open as the kami
laughed.

“
I have to have some fun,
little one,” Inari said before turning on his heels and leaving the
room.

Hiro went after him, but he found the
hall empty. He moved back into his room and sat on the bed, unsure
what to do next.

* * * *

Masaki folded his clothes by the
stream and changed to his fox form before slipping into the water.
He swam for several minutes, enjoying the coolness of the water as
it contrasted with the beating rays of the sun high overhead.
Sensing a presence, he reached out and felt Hiro nearby. Hiro
approached quickly, and Masaki moved to grab his clothes and
transport himself back to the house. But he sensed Hiro’s thoughts
focused on him and stayed put, waiting to see what would happen.
Hiro’s gaze found him right away as he emerged from between two
clusters of bamboo. Their eyes locked, and Hiro moved to sit by
Masaki’s clothes, sketchpad in hand and pencil poised.

Masaki didn’t know what to do. He swam
a little closer, but then he stopped.

Hiro studied him and then looked down.
“I’m going to draw you. Just keep swimming.” He lifted his eyes
again, briefly. “Let me see how you move, how the water
ripples.”

Masaki had rarely had anyone watch him
perform any task, but he did as Hiro said. He moved back and forth,
eventually coming closer and diving a few times, swishing his tail
out of the water but being careful not to splash Hiro’s paper. He
didn’t understand what Hiro wanted. The young man seemed
surprisingly calm. Was this an apology? He felt a surge of
admiration, and he turned to find Hiro just watching him, his
pencil still.

Inari certainly spoke the
truth. He does think I’m beautiful.

“
You’re smaller,” Hiro
said. “Look like a regular fox.”

Masaki came closer, transforming and
kneeling so that only his upper chest was exposed. “We can be any
size, any color, though I prefer white. The larger form’s
traditional. Ceremonial. This form’s more comfortable.”

Hiro held up his sketch, and Masaki
saw three different versions of himself. “Beautiful,” Masaki
said.

Hiro put his pad aside and looked into
Masaki’s eyes. “I’m sorry for acting the way I did. My father
wasn’t a very modern man, as I’m sure you know.”

“
Yes, I remember him well,
and I should’ve considered it. He was stern. Close-minded. Not very
open with his emotions.”

“
Except anger. He was open
with that. Liberal and generous.”

Masaki nodded, remembering how harsh
the previous head of the family had been with his sons and
daughters. “Do you want to leave, Hiro? I’ll send for Akira, if you
wish.”

Hiro stared down at the water, but
then he straightened his spine and gazed at Masaki. “I promised a
month. I won’t dishonor my family by backing out.”

“
But you don’t have to.
I’ll release you. There’ll be no dishonor.”

Hiro shook his head. “I overreacted. I
would … like to know you better. The way you said at dinner last
night.”

Masaki let a faint smile curve his
lips, though he wanted to grin widely. “Will you be my date
tonight? There’s an art show in Tokyo. I wasn’t going to attend,
but you might enjoy it. I’d like to discuss the works on display
with you.”

“
Tonight? I don’t have
clothes. And it’s almost two. How will we get to Tokyo by
tonight?”

Masaki smiled more broadly. “You
forget who you’re talking to. I can provide clothes in your size
with a thought, and I can even take us to Tokyo within
moments.”

Hiro’s eyes widened, but then he
smiled. “A date?”

“
If you wish. No reason to
hide my intentions any longer.”

Hiro drew his knees to his chest,
averting his eyes again. “I talked to Akira. He’d guessed.” He
looked back to Masaki. “About me. No one else knows, not even my
closest friends.”

“
Are you
ashamed?”

“
No. I won’t know anyone
in Tokyo. I’m just saying … there’s been no one.”

“
Not even in a club? A
single kiss? Any type of encounter, shall we say?”

Hiro shook his head. “I can’t do that
the way some people do. It’s not me. You were my first kiss. The
very first. Period.”

“
We’ll enjoy each other’s
company. That’s all that has to happen.”