Panic Age fic!
Oct. 17th, 2010 12:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
faded_laceI don't have an appropriate icon for this. :P Nor do I have an excuse for it... @___@ Except for that I blame ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
fencer_x entirely. XD; But yay, one fic done before Wednesday... a bunch to go. XD;
Title: Hate
Disclaimer: Panic Age isn’t mine, thank god.
Rating: NC-17!!
Pairing: Moriyama Eiji/Sano Daiki Jr. (aka Jay)
Warnings: EXPLICIT M/M SEX. Yes, you read that right. BL, kissing and all that, age difference, mild angst, language.
Author’s Note: For those of you familiar with Panic Age... I apologize for this. If you recall, Panic Age details the story of Tuti, Wasshi, and Daiki’s son’s tracking down Eiji at some video game-esque onsen after he quit *pnish* 20 years earlier and convincing him to quit being a hermit and rejoin his friends in the world of the living. Jay, Daiki’s son, is incredibly obsessed with the fact that Eiji ruined his father’s life, and well... XD;; It just seemed too likely to me that after all those years, seeing Jay, who looks exactly like Daiki, would be too much for Eiji to resist. Read this at your own risk; it is the FICTIONAL Moriyama Eiji sleeping with Daiki’s FICTIONAL son, so seriously... read at your own discretion. XD;
There were few things in this world that Sano Daiki Jr. hated. Certainly, he wasn't all that fond of cats, and he would rather not eat onions if he could avoid them, and he wasn't the most pleasant person first thing in the morning, but calling his feelings towards cats or onions or mornings 'hatred' seemed a bit strong. Dislike, yes. Aversion, yes. Not hate.
But if there was one thing in this world that Jay really and truly hated, it was Moriyama Eiji. After all, Moriyama Eiji was the reason that his father was always depressed, when he wasn't angry or sad or too drunk to care. Moriyama Eiji was the reason Jay spent his childhood completely alone, without friends (who, if he made them, would likely only betray him like Moriyama had to his father) or a family (he never had a mother and he never asked; his father never had much time for him, and when he did, any conversation always somehow led back to Moriyama). He was the reason Jay had had a miserable childhood and a miserable life, and he was the reason he almost threw away the only thing even close to friendship he had in a fit of rage. The was nothing that could possibly be good or redeeming about Moriyama Eiji, because he had ruined Jay's father's life, and he had ruined Jay's life, and that's all these was to it.
This was what Jay believed, honestly and truly, to the bottom of his heart, and in that first moment when Moriyama admitted defeat to them, he felt a surge of pride rush through him, as if he had avenged his father once and for all. He really, really hoped that Moriyama was suffering just as much as his father had suffered, that whatever pain he was feeling in remembering the bond he used to have was just as bad as the years and years of suffering his father had endured. Somehow, he didn't think it was quite the same thing, but he could hope, anyway, because it wasn't as if he was going to have the chance to do anything else, and if he had caused Moriyama as much pain as he possibly could, that was enough.
But then Moriyama went and did the one thing Jay had never expected: he said he wanted to see Jay's father again. Not specifically, granted, he said he wanted to see all their fathers, but that meant a reunion all the same, and Jay didn't know how to feel. After all these years of hating Moriyama, after the tears he'd seen his father shed, the sleepless nights and the countless bottles of alcohol... could Moriyama really bridge the gap and heal the wound he'd torn open over two decades ago?
And then... what if he did? What if, somehow, everything really was all right-- then what? If Jay's father no longer hated Moriyama... what was left? Jay's whole life had been built up around hating this man, and if he was no longer to be hated... what did Jay have?
He wished he hadn't thought of it, but once he had, the question tormented him. Even after returning home to his father, even when he had new-found friends to distract him, and school, and exams, and all those monotonous everyday things, at the back of his mind, it plagued him. Without Moriyama to hate, what drive did he have, what reason did he could he think of for doing... well, anything? He was a mess, really, he couldn't think straight, not to mention sleep or eat right, and, after a week of basically ceasing to function, he could think of no solution but the most dreaded of ideas: he had to go back and see Moriyama again. Face to face.
Getting back into the onsen wasn't a big deal the second time through; since he had beat the system once, no one put up any resistance until he reached the final gate. That was another story, of course-- no one got to see Moriyama, no one had seen him for years. And now here Jay was, standing outside his door and knocking in hopes of being let in, without any sense of plan, without even knowing what the hell he was doing here in the first place. In fact, he was practically losing his nerve, and was almost hoping to be turned away when somehow, miraculously, simply announcing that Sano Daiki Jr. was here was enough to get him welcomed inside.
The doors to Moriyama's private rooms opened for him and closed behind him of their own accord, which would have been creepy if it weren't for everything else Jay had been through in that stupid onsen, but at this point, he was hardly paying any attention to that at all. His heart was pounding in his ears and his pulse was racing; this was it. He was finally about to meet the man he had spent his life hating, and he didn't know what to think.
The room was incredibly steamy and the air was thick with humidity from the onsen, making Jay feel almost as if he were drowning in the air-- he was completely helpless now, he was at Moriyama's mercy in every sense of the word. If Moriyama chose to hurt him, if Moriyama chose to be kind to him, to tear away all of his perceptions, every mental paradigm he had built up over the years-- everything about Jay was in the palm of Moriyama's hand right now, and while he was terrified, there was something that moved his feet forward, further into the murkiness of the room.
He could make out a figure in a chair at the far side of the room, on the opposite side of a large pool of steaming water that Jay had to edge his way around, feeling more on nervous than he ought to. There was no way Moriyama was physically going to attack him; they had won, Moriyama had said so. And yet, Jay almost felt the need to run as he made his slow, trembling way towards the man growing clearer and clearer through the fog.
He looked younger than he ought to-- that was Jay's first thought, as out of place as it was-- and god, he was breathtakingly handsome. It wasn't that he looked youthful, of course; he was Jay's own father's age, and he definitely appeared as a grown man. But he didn't look old-- or rather, not like Jay had always pictured him, wrinkled and grey and revolting. It was easier to hate someone who was ugly, in Jay's mind, and even if he had glimpsed a picture or two from old magazine articles, who was to say that Moriyama had aged well?
But god had he aged well. He was beautiful in a way that only someone older could be, really, smooth, slick-- experienced. His hair had to be dyed; there was no way it was still that jet black colour after all these years, but besides that, everything about him appeared to be genuinely gorgeous in a way that was entirely unfair. And his eyes when they flicked up to meet Jay's... there was something about them that made his breath stop in his throat and his feet stop in their tracks, and god, he felt awkward and gangly and completely naked in front of this man, this man who could not possibly be the Moriyama he had always focused all of his heart and soul into hating.
But whether or not Jay wanted to believe it, this was Moriyama, and he really was here, standing less than a yard in front of the man he, only weeks ago, had sworn to defeat. Moriyama looked up at him a moment, and as Jay looked back into his eyes, any words, any thoughts he might have had were suddenly gone. There was only the pounding of his heart in his ears and the rush of blood through his veins, and his breath coming in shorts gasps, and Jay couldn't remember feeling this helpless for a long time.
Moriyama looked him over once, long, sweeping gazes, before he spoke. "Sano Daiki Jr...?" he asked quietly, though he knew the answer, and something flickered across his eyes, something that makes him look a little more tired, a little more his age.
Jay licked his lips and tried to speak again, tried to say anything, express all the hatred he had kept bottled up in the depths of his heart for all these years, but when he met Moriyama's eyes again, he couldn't think, and he looked away, feeling his face grow hot and not understanding why. "Jay," he murmured quietly in reply, swallowing and trying to build himself up, to not seem so meek. "Call me Jay."
"Jay," Moriyama repeated with a nod, and though Jay had never felt one way or another about his name, when Moriyama said it, somehow, it was like poetry, like honey or thick velvet, something beautiful, something exquisite. Jay swallowed again-- how was he supposed to hate someone who, even in just saying his name, was making him feel as if he could melt right then and there? Maybe this was what it was about the man that broke his father so far down when Moriyama left him behind.
"You look just like him," Moriyama continued when Jay remained silent. "Your father, I mean." He sighed, then rose from his chair, taking a step closer to Jay. He wasn't quite a head taller than him, but somehow, just his presence was imposing enough, and Jay had to consciously keep himself from shrinking back. He had no fear of Moriyama doing physical harm to him, especially when he kept saying things that made Jay's heart squeeze just a little in his chest, but something about his presence was powerful, and at his full height, he was somehow more beautiful, too. Jay couldn't understand it, and yet he couldn't help but be drawn in either, by whatever it was about this man that had drawn his father in so many years ago.
After a long moment of simply staring, however, he realized abruptly that he hadn't said anything besides his name, and so he cleared his throat, trying not to flounder, to make a fool of himself. The thought of coming across foolishly in front of Moriyama was somehow more horrifying than it ought to have been, and, if Jay had really wanted to consider it, for all the wrong reasons, too. But he didn't, because he could barely think of what he wanted to say or even why he was here, and so, in a ditch attempt to say anything, he managed to choke out, "Why did you leave?"
Moriyama looked at him for a moment, studying him, almost, it seemed, before sighing and running a hand through his hair. "It was gonna come to that sooner or later, wasn't it?" he asked, and his voice sounded tired, his eyes looked tired. Somehow, in the moment, he looked his age, looked as if perhaps he might have suffered, too, in these past twenty years. Jay didn't want to believe it-- it made it so much easier to vilify him if Jay's father were to have been the only one suffering-- but yet, as Moriyama gave him a worn smile that was somehow still able to make Jay's face heat up and his heart race, Jay knew it wasn't that clear-cut.
Silence hung heavy in the steamy air for a moment before Moriyama spoke again. "Because I was young and stupid," he replied slowly, as if it took him a long time to think of such a cliche answer. Turning back to Jay, he added, as if he somehow needed to defend himself, "I regret it."
Jay licked his lips again, fingering the seams of his pants in his nervousness and shifting his weight back and forth a few times. He couldn't take looking into Moriyama's eyes for very long, though, there was just something about them that felt as if he really could see straight through Jay's skin and see his every thought, and it was disconcerting, though whether it was because of Moriyama's own supernatural power of because Jay became an open book when faced with this man who had been the centre of his entire universe for his whole life, he was not sure. "Was it really that great?" he finally asked, because despite all the factual evidence, despite how devastated his father had been, despite the pain Moriyama seemed to feel, it just didn't make sense to Jay. "What you guys had together... was it really all that special?"
Moriyama's brow furrowed, as if he was trying to figure out exactly what Jay meant, before offering him a hand. Jay started at the sudden gesture, confused, but Moriyama only smiled and explained, "I'll show you." But Jay barely heard the words, barely processed the explanation, because at the sight of that smile, there was little he could do but accept, and he would have let Moriyama take him anywhere in that instant. It was ridiculous, it was disturbing, but Jay couldn't think of anything he wanted more than to follow Moriyama right then.
Jay's hands were bigger than Moriyama's, and with their hands clasped together that way, something didn't fit quite right. Jay felt spectacularly teenage and awkward and gangly again, but he pushed it to the back of his mind as Moriyama led him through a side door and to an adjoining room. This room was smaller than the other, more well-lit and less steamy, and upon looking around, Jay realized that it must be Moriyama's own bedroom. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary; there was a futon and some shelves and cabinets and a desk, but it looked just like any bedroom, like Jay's own bedroom, even. It was fascinating and terrifying at the same time, to see Moriyama as if he were any other person, to see this inside glimpse of his life. But why had Moriyama chosen to show this to Jay, why was Jay here? It just didn't make any sense, for him to let a complete stranger into his life this way.
But then Moriyama was smiling at him again, and Jay decided he didn't care, sitting when Moriyama offered him the desk chair and waiting obediently. Moriyama released his hand (a fact Jay didn’t want to admit he regretted) and pulled something from the bookshelf, placing it in front of Jay with no explanation whatsoever. It was a thick binder of some sort, and it took a moment before Jay realized exactly what it must contain. His breath caught in his throat--for all that his father had ranted and raved that Moriyama had ruined something beautiful, Jay had never seen any evidence, any proof of the four-man theatre troupe whose existence was simply something Jay had been raised believing. Any photographs Jay’s father might have had must have been ferreted away or else long gone by the time Jay came around, and since Jay was never introduced to his father’s former comrades, he had no way of even vaguely comprehending what their relationship had been. He had always simply been left to believe that there had once been *pnish* and it had been good, and then Moriyama had ruined it. That was all there was to it.
But now, before him, he had everything he had never dared to ask after as a child, everything he had forced himself not to be curious about at the risk of sending his father into another drunken spiral of depression. And there was nothing hindering him-- Moriyama was simply handing it to him, and he was almost afraid to look. Already, he had broken down the assurance in Jay’s mind that he was evil incarnate, what if... what if *pnish* wasn’t all Jay’s father had cracked it up to be? Looking up to Moriyama uncertainly (and then kicking himself for showing the weakness inherent in his lack of assurance), he took a deep breath and opened the book.
It wasn’t a disappointment, that was for certain. There were photos, dozens of them, candid, posed, clearly taken without the subjects awareness. There were photos of rows of mirrors before dressing tables in small, cramped dressing rooms, photos of four men on a small stage under bright lights, drenched with sweat and obviously fatigued but with huge grins on their faces. There were photos from polaroid cameras taken on the street, in restaurants, photos with fingerprints on them, yellowed with time and curling at the edges. There were other things, too, programs and ticket stubs and flyers, crease-marked and torn around the edges. It was almost too much, seeing it all together, all at once, and the density of it all was overwhelming. The four men looked so happy together, Ichiban and Wasshi-Wasshi’s fathers, looking so much like their children in their youth, and Jay’s own father, almost frighteningly a mirror image of Jay. Seeing him there, over and over and over, in all of these photos, looking proud, or excited, or pleased... it was so far removed from any emotion that Jay had ever seen him display that it was almost alarming. And, of course, there was Moriyama, younger but charming all the same, always by Jay’s father’s side, with an arm slung over his shoulders, or giving him a congratulatory pat on the back... and somehow just in looking at these photos, Jay suddenly understood why his father was so miserable all of those years.
But then when he looked up and caught Moriyama’s eyes, he felt it again, more keenly, like a sharp tightening in his chest-- the understanding of maybe, just a little bit, what his father had felt all those years ago when he looked into Moriyama’s eyes. He realized a moment too late that he wasn’t breathing, and gasped awkwardly, flushing and looking away. “Thanks,” he mumbled quickly, nodding to the book, anything to cover up the fool he was making of himself over feelings he didn’t really understand or want. “I get it now, I guess.”
Moriyama nodded as well and swallowed, and Jay could see his adam’s apple bob as he stared pointedly just below his face-- anything to avoid the gaze that made his breath catch in his throat and his heart beat so fast. But then Moriyama was taking a step closer, and then his hand was beneath Jay’s chin, cupping his face and gently coaxing his eyes upward, and Jay simply couldn’t fight it anymore. There was a moment in which they were frozen, looking into each other’s eyes as if time had stopped altogether, but then, in a thick whisper, Moriyama was telling him, “You really look just like him,” and Jay barely had time to process that before, suddenly, Moriyama’s lips were pressed against his own, ceasing all mental function whatsoever.
He didn’t think of the consequences-- it didn’t even occur to him, really, to think about the consequences-- all he could think was that Moriyama Eiji, the Moriyama Eiji, the man who had ruined his father’s life, was kissing him, and he wanted it, he wanted it so badly. He shouldn’t, oh god, he knew he shouldn’t, but he did, as if all the hate over all the years, in the process of meeting this man and seeing those photos, had been transformed into something else entirely, something that made Jay want the kiss to never end. And so when Moriyama pulled back, without hesitating, without even thinking, Jay stood and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back roughly into another kiss, and Moriyama didn’t seem upset by this at all. He reciprocated almost immediately, wrapping an arm around around Jay’s waist, and Jay knotted the fingers of his free hand in Moriyama’s hair and deepened the kiss because he wanted this, he wanted it.
Lust or passion or something else entirely, whatever his hate had become, it was burning inside Jay, and he wanted to be closer, he didn’t want the kiss to end. But of course, it had to, and while he was gasping for air, he heard Moriyama chuckling something that sounded nonsensically like “Leadermode,” to Jay, but when he made an inquisitive noise, Moriyama brushed it aside and kissed him again, and Jay decided he didn’t care.
Moriyama’s hands were sliding up the length of his back now, underneath his shirt, running smoothly along the bare skin beneath, and Jay shivered, breaking the kiss to gasp at the feeling. Moriyama smirked before pressing kisses to Jay’s jaw and neck, nipping lightly before soothing the skin with his tongue, and Jay couldn’t keep himself quiet now, not when it felt so good, and god, he wanted more. Moriyama seemed to glean that from the sounds he was making, because after a moment, he was pulling away again, but this time, he was pulling Jay along.
Jay realized where they were heading just as they got there, and before Moriyama could push him down, he threw himself, yanking Moriyama with him and landing them both in a tangled heap on the bed. It was hardly graceful, but Jay couldn’t have cared less when Moriyama’s mouth was against his own again and Moriyama’s hands were working at the buttons of his shirt, with his fingers brushing just slightly against the skin of Jay’s chest, and it took Jay a moment to collect himself enough to realize that he wanted Moriyama out of his clothing, too, now. It was awkward from their current position, with Moriyama straddling him, and after getting his yukata open and over his shoulders, Jay gave up with a growl of frustration, throwing his arms around Moriyama’s neck and pulling him closer still. Moriyama groaned in responses, and somewhere, in the back of Jay’s mind, bringing that out of him felt like a victory, but the thought was completely wiped from his mind a moment later when he felt Moriyama’s hand between them, cupping the growing bulge in his pants, because fuck.
Jay let out a yelp of surprise and pleasure at the feeling, and the smirk on Moriyama’s face made him suddenly realize exactly how inexperienced he was at this, but he didn’t have much time to think on it, because then somehow Moriyama’s mouth was against his chest, kissing and licking and sucking at all the right places and his hand was still kneading Jay through his pants, causing him to practically writhe beneath him at the overwhelming sensations. Moriyama’s hand slid upward, fingering the button of Jay’s pants before popping it open one-handedly with practiced ease and pulling down the zipper far too slowly for Jay’s liking, but his protesting groan was silenced by another kiss, this one longer, slower, sensual. It was almost jarring in contrast to everything up to this point, and Jay could feel himself melting a little even now.
But then Moriyama was pulling back again, and Jay was practically ready to yank him back when he realized that Moriyama’s hands were moving to deftly undo the belt of his yukata and toss the thing aside. With the only closure removed, the robe fell open, and Moriyama’s eyes locked with Jay’s as he shrugged the thing from his shoulders, as if he were putting on some sort of show for Jay’s eyes only. He really was a sight to be seen, but Jay’s impatience was getting the better of him, and he grabbed Moriyama’s hand, pulling him back down over him. Moriyama chuckled in response, low and deep in his throat, kissing Jay again briefly before reaching between them again, this time to pull away the rest of Jay’s clothing.
If Jay had been maintaining any mental function up to this point, it was out the window now, because when Moriyama was over him again, kissing him and grinding their hips together, he was certain he had never felt anything this good before in his life. He broke the kiss almost immediately to cry out at the sensation, but Moriyama was back on his mouth in an instant, nipping at his lip and scraping their teeth together and practically swallowing up Jay’s moans.
Jay wanted it to last forever, but all too soon, Moriyama was pulling away again, this time to rummage around in a drawer before emerging with a tube, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Jay understood, but not coherently enough not to whine impatiently for Moriyama’s return. Moriyama shook his head however, bidding Jay to be patient and spreading Jay’s legs, moving between them and squeezing some of the contents of the tube onto his fingers. Setting the tube aside, with his freed hand, he stroked the inside of Jay’s thigh gently before moving up to palm his cock, stroking hims teasingly as he slowly pressed a finger inside of Jay. Jay hadn’t really known what to expect, but when Moriyama told him to relax, he did his best, and that seemed to have been satisfactory, because Moriyama added a second finger, sliding the two a bit farther still, touching Jay the whole time.
It hurt a little, but Moriyama’s touches were enough of a distraction until Moriyama added a third finger still pressed even deeper, curling his fingers inside of Jay, and then suddenly, he was crying out again, overwhelmed with a pleasurable feeling. He didn’t completely understand what had happened and he didn’t care; he rocked his hips up against Moriyama’s fingers, anything to get that feeling again. Moriyama smirked and indulged him a moment before pulling both of his hands away, reaching for the tube again.
But Jay was only abandoned for a moment, because then Moriyama was gripping his thighs again, and Jay suddenly realized what was happening as he felt something much, much larger slide inside of him. It was more than he had been prepared for, and he winced slightly at the invasion. Despite trying to hide it, however, Moriyama clearly noticed and leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips in some form of comfort or perhaps distraction as he slowly moved all the way inside. There was a moment of hesitation, but when it became clear that Moriyama was waiting for Jay’s approval, Jay gave a brisk nod, and he was surprised to feel Moriyama clasp Jay’s hand in his own before sliding out and pressing back in just a little bit faster.
This time, though, instead of discomfort, Jay was greeted with the pleasure from before, and he moaned, pressing his head back into the pillow and squeezing his eyes shut, because oh god, was it good. Moriyama seemed pleased by this reaction and began to speed up, moaning out his own pleasure and leaning in to kiss Jay again, urgent and sloppy. It was good, it was so good, and Jay couldn’t help but rock his hips up to meet Moriyama’s thrusts, spreading his legs wider and clutching at Moriyama’s shoulders with his free hand. Moriyama increased his pace further with Jay’s signs of enthusiasm, his hand somehow finding its way back between their bodies, wrapping once more around Jay’s cock and stroking him in time with his thrusts. The added stimulus wrung a fresh moan from Jay, and in a moment, he was coming, back arching and nails digging into Moriyama’s back and Moriyama’s name on his lips.
It wasn’t long before Moriyama followed suit, coming deep inside Jay’s body, and then the two lay collapsed in a tangled heap on Moriyama’s bed, the sounds of heavy breathing filling the room. After a few moments, Moriyama moved, reorganizing them such that he was laying beside Jay, wrapping an arm around his waist, but Jay was still barely able to think, still recovering from being so overwhelmed. Some part of his mind told him that he needed to get up, needed to collect himself, needed to go home, but the warmth of Moriyama’s embrace and his breath on Jay’s face as he leaned in and whispered “stay with me,” were too tempting, and Jay only noded, letting his eyes fall shut. Tomorrow he’d figure things out, tomorrow he’d sort through his emotions. For tonight, he was happy, though, suddenly, the idea of Moriyama’s reunion with his father didn't seem so appealing, after all...
fencer_x entirely. XD; But yay, one fic done before Wednesday... a bunch to go. XD;Title: Hate
Disclaimer: Panic Age isn’t mine, thank god.
Rating: NC-17!!
Pairing: Moriyama Eiji/Sano Daiki Jr. (aka Jay)
Warnings: EXPLICIT M/M SEX. Yes, you read that right. BL, kissing and all that, age difference, mild angst, language.
Author’s Note: For those of you familiar with Panic Age... I apologize for this. If you recall, Panic Age details the story of Tuti, Wasshi, and Daiki’s son’s tracking down Eiji at some video game-esque onsen after he quit *pnish* 20 years earlier and convincing him to quit being a hermit and rejoin his friends in the world of the living. Jay, Daiki’s son, is incredibly obsessed with the fact that Eiji ruined his father’s life, and well... XD;; It just seemed too likely to me that after all those years, seeing Jay, who looks exactly like Daiki, would be too much for Eiji to resist. Read this at your own risk; it is the FICTIONAL Moriyama Eiji sleeping with Daiki’s FICTIONAL son, so seriously... read at your own discretion. XD;
There were few things in this world that Sano Daiki Jr. hated. Certainly, he wasn't all that fond of cats, and he would rather not eat onions if he could avoid them, and he wasn't the most pleasant person first thing in the morning, but calling his feelings towards cats or onions or mornings 'hatred' seemed a bit strong. Dislike, yes. Aversion, yes. Not hate.
But if there was one thing in this world that Jay really and truly hated, it was Moriyama Eiji. After all, Moriyama Eiji was the reason that his father was always depressed, when he wasn't angry or sad or too drunk to care. Moriyama Eiji was the reason Jay spent his childhood completely alone, without friends (who, if he made them, would likely only betray him like Moriyama had to his father) or a family (he never had a mother and he never asked; his father never had much time for him, and when he did, any conversation always somehow led back to Moriyama). He was the reason Jay had had a miserable childhood and a miserable life, and he was the reason he almost threw away the only thing even close to friendship he had in a fit of rage. The was nothing that could possibly be good or redeeming about Moriyama Eiji, because he had ruined Jay's father's life, and he had ruined Jay's life, and that's all these was to it.
This was what Jay believed, honestly and truly, to the bottom of his heart, and in that first moment when Moriyama admitted defeat to them, he felt a surge of pride rush through him, as if he had avenged his father once and for all. He really, really hoped that Moriyama was suffering just as much as his father had suffered, that whatever pain he was feeling in remembering the bond he used to have was just as bad as the years and years of suffering his father had endured. Somehow, he didn't think it was quite the same thing, but he could hope, anyway, because it wasn't as if he was going to have the chance to do anything else, and if he had caused Moriyama as much pain as he possibly could, that was enough.
But then Moriyama went and did the one thing Jay had never expected: he said he wanted to see Jay's father again. Not specifically, granted, he said he wanted to see all their fathers, but that meant a reunion all the same, and Jay didn't know how to feel. After all these years of hating Moriyama, after the tears he'd seen his father shed, the sleepless nights and the countless bottles of alcohol... could Moriyama really bridge the gap and heal the wound he'd torn open over two decades ago?
And then... what if he did? What if, somehow, everything really was all right-- then what? If Jay's father no longer hated Moriyama... what was left? Jay's whole life had been built up around hating this man, and if he was no longer to be hated... what did Jay have?
He wished he hadn't thought of it, but once he had, the question tormented him. Even after returning home to his father, even when he had new-found friends to distract him, and school, and exams, and all those monotonous everyday things, at the back of his mind, it plagued him. Without Moriyama to hate, what drive did he have, what reason did he could he think of for doing... well, anything? He was a mess, really, he couldn't think straight, not to mention sleep or eat right, and, after a week of basically ceasing to function, he could think of no solution but the most dreaded of ideas: he had to go back and see Moriyama again. Face to face.
Getting back into the onsen wasn't a big deal the second time through; since he had beat the system once, no one put up any resistance until he reached the final gate. That was another story, of course-- no one got to see Moriyama, no one had seen him for years. And now here Jay was, standing outside his door and knocking in hopes of being let in, without any sense of plan, without even knowing what the hell he was doing here in the first place. In fact, he was practically losing his nerve, and was almost hoping to be turned away when somehow, miraculously, simply announcing that Sano Daiki Jr. was here was enough to get him welcomed inside.
The doors to Moriyama's private rooms opened for him and closed behind him of their own accord, which would have been creepy if it weren't for everything else Jay had been through in that stupid onsen, but at this point, he was hardly paying any attention to that at all. His heart was pounding in his ears and his pulse was racing; this was it. He was finally about to meet the man he had spent his life hating, and he didn't know what to think.
The room was incredibly steamy and the air was thick with humidity from the onsen, making Jay feel almost as if he were drowning in the air-- he was completely helpless now, he was at Moriyama's mercy in every sense of the word. If Moriyama chose to hurt him, if Moriyama chose to be kind to him, to tear away all of his perceptions, every mental paradigm he had built up over the years-- everything about Jay was in the palm of Moriyama's hand right now, and while he was terrified, there was something that moved his feet forward, further into the murkiness of the room.
He could make out a figure in a chair at the far side of the room, on the opposite side of a large pool of steaming water that Jay had to edge his way around, feeling more on nervous than he ought to. There was no way Moriyama was physically going to attack him; they had won, Moriyama had said so. And yet, Jay almost felt the need to run as he made his slow, trembling way towards the man growing clearer and clearer through the fog.
He looked younger than he ought to-- that was Jay's first thought, as out of place as it was-- and god, he was breathtakingly handsome. It wasn't that he looked youthful, of course; he was Jay's own father's age, and he definitely appeared as a grown man. But he didn't look old-- or rather, not like Jay had always pictured him, wrinkled and grey and revolting. It was easier to hate someone who was ugly, in Jay's mind, and even if he had glimpsed a picture or two from old magazine articles, who was to say that Moriyama had aged well?
But god had he aged well. He was beautiful in a way that only someone older could be, really, smooth, slick-- experienced. His hair had to be dyed; there was no way it was still that jet black colour after all these years, but besides that, everything about him appeared to be genuinely gorgeous in a way that was entirely unfair. And his eyes when they flicked up to meet Jay's... there was something about them that made his breath stop in his throat and his feet stop in their tracks, and god, he felt awkward and gangly and completely naked in front of this man, this man who could not possibly be the Moriyama he had always focused all of his heart and soul into hating.
But whether or not Jay wanted to believe it, this was Moriyama, and he really was here, standing less than a yard in front of the man he, only weeks ago, had sworn to defeat. Moriyama looked up at him a moment, and as Jay looked back into his eyes, any words, any thoughts he might have had were suddenly gone. There was only the pounding of his heart in his ears and the rush of blood through his veins, and his breath coming in shorts gasps, and Jay couldn't remember feeling this helpless for a long time.
Moriyama looked him over once, long, sweeping gazes, before he spoke. "Sano Daiki Jr...?" he asked quietly, though he knew the answer, and something flickered across his eyes, something that makes him look a little more tired, a little more his age.
Jay licked his lips and tried to speak again, tried to say anything, express all the hatred he had kept bottled up in the depths of his heart for all these years, but when he met Moriyama's eyes again, he couldn't think, and he looked away, feeling his face grow hot and not understanding why. "Jay," he murmured quietly in reply, swallowing and trying to build himself up, to not seem so meek. "Call me Jay."
"Jay," Moriyama repeated with a nod, and though Jay had never felt one way or another about his name, when Moriyama said it, somehow, it was like poetry, like honey or thick velvet, something beautiful, something exquisite. Jay swallowed again-- how was he supposed to hate someone who, even in just saying his name, was making him feel as if he could melt right then and there? Maybe this was what it was about the man that broke his father so far down when Moriyama left him behind.
"You look just like him," Moriyama continued when Jay remained silent. "Your father, I mean." He sighed, then rose from his chair, taking a step closer to Jay. He wasn't quite a head taller than him, but somehow, just his presence was imposing enough, and Jay had to consciously keep himself from shrinking back. He had no fear of Moriyama doing physical harm to him, especially when he kept saying things that made Jay's heart squeeze just a little in his chest, but something about his presence was powerful, and at his full height, he was somehow more beautiful, too. Jay couldn't understand it, and yet he couldn't help but be drawn in either, by whatever it was about this man that had drawn his father in so many years ago.
After a long moment of simply staring, however, he realized abruptly that he hadn't said anything besides his name, and so he cleared his throat, trying not to flounder, to make a fool of himself. The thought of coming across foolishly in front of Moriyama was somehow more horrifying than it ought to have been, and, if Jay had really wanted to consider it, for all the wrong reasons, too. But he didn't, because he could barely think of what he wanted to say or even why he was here, and so, in a ditch attempt to say anything, he managed to choke out, "Why did you leave?"
Moriyama looked at him for a moment, studying him, almost, it seemed, before sighing and running a hand through his hair. "It was gonna come to that sooner or later, wasn't it?" he asked, and his voice sounded tired, his eyes looked tired. Somehow, in the moment, he looked his age, looked as if perhaps he might have suffered, too, in these past twenty years. Jay didn't want to believe it-- it made it so much easier to vilify him if Jay's father were to have been the only one suffering-- but yet, as Moriyama gave him a worn smile that was somehow still able to make Jay's face heat up and his heart race, Jay knew it wasn't that clear-cut.
Silence hung heavy in the steamy air for a moment before Moriyama spoke again. "Because I was young and stupid," he replied slowly, as if it took him a long time to think of such a cliche answer. Turning back to Jay, he added, as if he somehow needed to defend himself, "I regret it."
Jay licked his lips again, fingering the seams of his pants in his nervousness and shifting his weight back and forth a few times. He couldn't take looking into Moriyama's eyes for very long, though, there was just something about them that felt as if he really could see straight through Jay's skin and see his every thought, and it was disconcerting, though whether it was because of Moriyama's own supernatural power of because Jay became an open book when faced with this man who had been the centre of his entire universe for his whole life, he was not sure. "Was it really that great?" he finally asked, because despite all the factual evidence, despite how devastated his father had been, despite the pain Moriyama seemed to feel, it just didn't make sense to Jay. "What you guys had together... was it really all that special?"
Moriyama's brow furrowed, as if he was trying to figure out exactly what Jay meant, before offering him a hand. Jay started at the sudden gesture, confused, but Moriyama only smiled and explained, "I'll show you." But Jay barely heard the words, barely processed the explanation, because at the sight of that smile, there was little he could do but accept, and he would have let Moriyama take him anywhere in that instant. It was ridiculous, it was disturbing, but Jay couldn't think of anything he wanted more than to follow Moriyama right then.
Jay's hands were bigger than Moriyama's, and with their hands clasped together that way, something didn't fit quite right. Jay felt spectacularly teenage and awkward and gangly again, but he pushed it to the back of his mind as Moriyama led him through a side door and to an adjoining room. This room was smaller than the other, more well-lit and less steamy, and upon looking around, Jay realized that it must be Moriyama's own bedroom. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary; there was a futon and some shelves and cabinets and a desk, but it looked just like any bedroom, like Jay's own bedroom, even. It was fascinating and terrifying at the same time, to see Moriyama as if he were any other person, to see this inside glimpse of his life. But why had Moriyama chosen to show this to Jay, why was Jay here? It just didn't make any sense, for him to let a complete stranger into his life this way.
But then Moriyama was smiling at him again, and Jay decided he didn't care, sitting when Moriyama offered him the desk chair and waiting obediently. Moriyama released his hand (a fact Jay didn’t want to admit he regretted) and pulled something from the bookshelf, placing it in front of Jay with no explanation whatsoever. It was a thick binder of some sort, and it took a moment before Jay realized exactly what it must contain. His breath caught in his throat--for all that his father had ranted and raved that Moriyama had ruined something beautiful, Jay had never seen any evidence, any proof of the four-man theatre troupe whose existence was simply something Jay had been raised believing. Any photographs Jay’s father might have had must have been ferreted away or else long gone by the time Jay came around, and since Jay was never introduced to his father’s former comrades, he had no way of even vaguely comprehending what their relationship had been. He had always simply been left to believe that there had once been *pnish* and it had been good, and then Moriyama had ruined it. That was all there was to it.
But now, before him, he had everything he had never dared to ask after as a child, everything he had forced himself not to be curious about at the risk of sending his father into another drunken spiral of depression. And there was nothing hindering him-- Moriyama was simply handing it to him, and he was almost afraid to look. Already, he had broken down the assurance in Jay’s mind that he was evil incarnate, what if... what if *pnish* wasn’t all Jay’s father had cracked it up to be? Looking up to Moriyama uncertainly (and then kicking himself for showing the weakness inherent in his lack of assurance), he took a deep breath and opened the book.
It wasn’t a disappointment, that was for certain. There were photos, dozens of them, candid, posed, clearly taken without the subjects awareness. There were photos of rows of mirrors before dressing tables in small, cramped dressing rooms, photos of four men on a small stage under bright lights, drenched with sweat and obviously fatigued but with huge grins on their faces. There were photos from polaroid cameras taken on the street, in restaurants, photos with fingerprints on them, yellowed with time and curling at the edges. There were other things, too, programs and ticket stubs and flyers, crease-marked and torn around the edges. It was almost too much, seeing it all together, all at once, and the density of it all was overwhelming. The four men looked so happy together, Ichiban and Wasshi-Wasshi’s fathers, looking so much like their children in their youth, and Jay’s own father, almost frighteningly a mirror image of Jay. Seeing him there, over and over and over, in all of these photos, looking proud, or excited, or pleased... it was so far removed from any emotion that Jay had ever seen him display that it was almost alarming. And, of course, there was Moriyama, younger but charming all the same, always by Jay’s father’s side, with an arm slung over his shoulders, or giving him a congratulatory pat on the back... and somehow just in looking at these photos, Jay suddenly understood why his father was so miserable all of those years.
But then when he looked up and caught Moriyama’s eyes, he felt it again, more keenly, like a sharp tightening in his chest-- the understanding of maybe, just a little bit, what his father had felt all those years ago when he looked into Moriyama’s eyes. He realized a moment too late that he wasn’t breathing, and gasped awkwardly, flushing and looking away. “Thanks,” he mumbled quickly, nodding to the book, anything to cover up the fool he was making of himself over feelings he didn’t really understand or want. “I get it now, I guess.”
Moriyama nodded as well and swallowed, and Jay could see his adam’s apple bob as he stared pointedly just below his face-- anything to avoid the gaze that made his breath catch in his throat and his heart beat so fast. But then Moriyama was taking a step closer, and then his hand was beneath Jay’s chin, cupping his face and gently coaxing his eyes upward, and Jay simply couldn’t fight it anymore. There was a moment in which they were frozen, looking into each other’s eyes as if time had stopped altogether, but then, in a thick whisper, Moriyama was telling him, “You really look just like him,” and Jay barely had time to process that before, suddenly, Moriyama’s lips were pressed against his own, ceasing all mental function whatsoever.
He didn’t think of the consequences-- it didn’t even occur to him, really, to think about the consequences-- all he could think was that Moriyama Eiji, the Moriyama Eiji, the man who had ruined his father’s life, was kissing him, and he wanted it, he wanted it so badly. He shouldn’t, oh god, he knew he shouldn’t, but he did, as if all the hate over all the years, in the process of meeting this man and seeing those photos, had been transformed into something else entirely, something that made Jay want the kiss to never end. And so when Moriyama pulled back, without hesitating, without even thinking, Jay stood and grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back roughly into another kiss, and Moriyama didn’t seem upset by this at all. He reciprocated almost immediately, wrapping an arm around around Jay’s waist, and Jay knotted the fingers of his free hand in Moriyama’s hair and deepened the kiss because he wanted this, he wanted it.
Lust or passion or something else entirely, whatever his hate had become, it was burning inside Jay, and he wanted to be closer, he didn’t want the kiss to end. But of course, it had to, and while he was gasping for air, he heard Moriyama chuckling something that sounded nonsensically like “Leadermode,” to Jay, but when he made an inquisitive noise, Moriyama brushed it aside and kissed him again, and Jay decided he didn’t care.
Moriyama’s hands were sliding up the length of his back now, underneath his shirt, running smoothly along the bare skin beneath, and Jay shivered, breaking the kiss to gasp at the feeling. Moriyama smirked before pressing kisses to Jay’s jaw and neck, nipping lightly before soothing the skin with his tongue, and Jay couldn’t keep himself quiet now, not when it felt so good, and god, he wanted more. Moriyama seemed to glean that from the sounds he was making, because after a moment, he was pulling away again, but this time, he was pulling Jay along.
Jay realized where they were heading just as they got there, and before Moriyama could push him down, he threw himself, yanking Moriyama with him and landing them both in a tangled heap on the bed. It was hardly graceful, but Jay couldn’t have cared less when Moriyama’s mouth was against his own again and Moriyama’s hands were working at the buttons of his shirt, with his fingers brushing just slightly against the skin of Jay’s chest, and it took Jay a moment to collect himself enough to realize that he wanted Moriyama out of his clothing, too, now. It was awkward from their current position, with Moriyama straddling him, and after getting his yukata open and over his shoulders, Jay gave up with a growl of frustration, throwing his arms around Moriyama’s neck and pulling him closer still. Moriyama groaned in responses, and somewhere, in the back of Jay’s mind, bringing that out of him felt like a victory, but the thought was completely wiped from his mind a moment later when he felt Moriyama’s hand between them, cupping the growing bulge in his pants, because fuck.
Jay let out a yelp of surprise and pleasure at the feeling, and the smirk on Moriyama’s face made him suddenly realize exactly how inexperienced he was at this, but he didn’t have much time to think on it, because then somehow Moriyama’s mouth was against his chest, kissing and licking and sucking at all the right places and his hand was still kneading Jay through his pants, causing him to practically writhe beneath him at the overwhelming sensations. Moriyama’s hand slid upward, fingering the button of Jay’s pants before popping it open one-handedly with practiced ease and pulling down the zipper far too slowly for Jay’s liking, but his protesting groan was silenced by another kiss, this one longer, slower, sensual. It was almost jarring in contrast to everything up to this point, and Jay could feel himself melting a little even now.
But then Moriyama was pulling back again, and Jay was practically ready to yank him back when he realized that Moriyama’s hands were moving to deftly undo the belt of his yukata and toss the thing aside. With the only closure removed, the robe fell open, and Moriyama’s eyes locked with Jay’s as he shrugged the thing from his shoulders, as if he were putting on some sort of show for Jay’s eyes only. He really was a sight to be seen, but Jay’s impatience was getting the better of him, and he grabbed Moriyama’s hand, pulling him back down over him. Moriyama chuckled in response, low and deep in his throat, kissing Jay again briefly before reaching between them again, this time to pull away the rest of Jay’s clothing.
If Jay had been maintaining any mental function up to this point, it was out the window now, because when Moriyama was over him again, kissing him and grinding their hips together, he was certain he had never felt anything this good before in his life. He broke the kiss almost immediately to cry out at the sensation, but Moriyama was back on his mouth in an instant, nipping at his lip and scraping their teeth together and practically swallowing up Jay’s moans.
Jay wanted it to last forever, but all too soon, Moriyama was pulling away again, this time to rummage around in a drawer before emerging with a tube, and somewhere in the back of his mind, Jay understood, but not coherently enough not to whine impatiently for Moriyama’s return. Moriyama shook his head however, bidding Jay to be patient and spreading Jay’s legs, moving between them and squeezing some of the contents of the tube onto his fingers. Setting the tube aside, with his freed hand, he stroked the inside of Jay’s thigh gently before moving up to palm his cock, stroking hims teasingly as he slowly pressed a finger inside of Jay. Jay hadn’t really known what to expect, but when Moriyama told him to relax, he did his best, and that seemed to have been satisfactory, because Moriyama added a second finger, sliding the two a bit farther still, touching Jay the whole time.
It hurt a little, but Moriyama’s touches were enough of a distraction until Moriyama added a third finger still pressed even deeper, curling his fingers inside of Jay, and then suddenly, he was crying out again, overwhelmed with a pleasurable feeling. He didn’t completely understand what had happened and he didn’t care; he rocked his hips up against Moriyama’s fingers, anything to get that feeling again. Moriyama smirked and indulged him a moment before pulling both of his hands away, reaching for the tube again.
But Jay was only abandoned for a moment, because then Moriyama was gripping his thighs again, and Jay suddenly realized what was happening as he felt something much, much larger slide inside of him. It was more than he had been prepared for, and he winced slightly at the invasion. Despite trying to hide it, however, Moriyama clearly noticed and leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips in some form of comfort or perhaps distraction as he slowly moved all the way inside. There was a moment of hesitation, but when it became clear that Moriyama was waiting for Jay’s approval, Jay gave a brisk nod, and he was surprised to feel Moriyama clasp Jay’s hand in his own before sliding out and pressing back in just a little bit faster.
This time, though, instead of discomfort, Jay was greeted with the pleasure from before, and he moaned, pressing his head back into the pillow and squeezing his eyes shut, because oh god, was it good. Moriyama seemed pleased by this reaction and began to speed up, moaning out his own pleasure and leaning in to kiss Jay again, urgent and sloppy. It was good, it was so good, and Jay couldn’t help but rock his hips up to meet Moriyama’s thrusts, spreading his legs wider and clutching at Moriyama’s shoulders with his free hand. Moriyama increased his pace further with Jay’s signs of enthusiasm, his hand somehow finding its way back between their bodies, wrapping once more around Jay’s cock and stroking him in time with his thrusts. The added stimulus wrung a fresh moan from Jay, and in a moment, he was coming, back arching and nails digging into Moriyama’s back and Moriyama’s name on his lips.
It wasn’t long before Moriyama followed suit, coming deep inside Jay’s body, and then the two lay collapsed in a tangled heap on Moriyama’s bed, the sounds of heavy breathing filling the room. After a few moments, Moriyama moved, reorganizing them such that he was laying beside Jay, wrapping an arm around his waist, but Jay was still barely able to think, still recovering from being so overwhelmed. Some part of his mind told him that he needed to get up, needed to collect himself, needed to go home, but the warmth of Moriyama’s embrace and his breath on Jay’s face as he leaned in and whispered “stay with me,” were too tempting, and Jay only noded, letting his eyes fall shut. Tomorrow he’d figure things out, tomorrow he’d sort through his emotions. For tonight, he was happy, though, suddenly, the idea of Moriyama’s reunion with his father didn't seem so appealing, after all...
