wendyjoly: (sakumiya)
[personal profile] wendyjoly
Title: Possibly maybe
Author: WendyJoly
Genre: Romance
Rating: PG-13 – NC-17
Pairing: Sakumiya
Beta/ Mental support : The irreplacable [livejournal.com profile] jtaytt and [livejournal.com profile] sky_fish7

Summary: Ninomiya Kazunari is meant to become a computer engineering in one of those big anonymous companies of the capital when he falls in love with a beautiful stranger he met on the train. Well, met isn’t the word since he never dared talking to the man.
Notes: This story was originally written for the wonderful Nino's exchange :)

"The soft rasp in his smooth, cultured voice was nearly capable of making me orgasm just listening to it. And whenever he touched me, I caved. Do you really think it’s possible? Nino, you’re daydreaming?" The enthusiastic Ken elbowed his half asleep neighbour.

"Hm? What are you reading?!" Nino asked, trying to zero in on the book the other was brandishing under his nose.

"A book Hiroki lent to me yesterday."

Captivated by you. So lame, Nino thought.

"You shouldn’t believe everything you read, Ken-chan."

"But do you think it’s possible?"

"No way…"

Nino crossed his legs and reopening his Shonen Jump, taking back his usual unconcerned look. He wondered. Wondered if it could exist, perhaps in an alternative universe but not in his. Not in his so boring life.

Every day, he woke up at 05:38 am with the sound of his old Pokémon radio clock, vestige of his teenage days (but why would he have to change something which worked perfectly?), drank a coffee with his roommate, ate a bowl of cereals, showered, put on the outfit he prepared the previous day and strode to the station where they jumped in the 06.42 am train.

One hour later they entered a big building downtown. They took out their badges, the guard checked them out suspiciously each damn day as if they were terrorists in salary man’s disguise, and Nino's day of work could begin. Saying his job was laborious was a mere understatement. Well, it wasn’t really a job since he was still a student, only an internship for 9 months in a famous company to obtain his degree. His job was to fix the computer’s issues of the members of the company, hidden inside his own personal cubicle, in the middle of the huge office of Tokyo Inc.

The entire level looked like an enormous hive, buzzing, swarming, permanently agitated…but surprisingly, it was boring like hell. Nino didn’t really care about the real interests of the company, he was doing his job, taught the basis of computing to the salary men, enough for them to do what they had to do, whatever it could be.

When the day was over he rode back the train with Ken, once at home he ate instant noodles and played video game alone in his bedroom until…yeah too late, promising each morning that he won’t ever go to bed so late the previous evening.

That was how his life was going since six months and he had to admit, for himself at least, that he was resigned to this routine, after all, it would be his daily life once graduated. It was recession, everywhere around him, the companies were firing people, he would be glad if he could find a job. And even if he was nuts enough to refuse an offer, what could he do? He had zero skills for almost everything except computers.

Sometimes, Ninomiya Kazunari had the feeling to be out-of-place everywhere he went. He never met someone like him. He didn’t really dislike people, not everybody; he simply didn’t feel the need to communicate with them. He was a lonely man and these moments of loneliness were a matter of death and life for him. That was it. People said he was shy or a weirdo and frankly if he should have had to come across himself, for sure, he would had felt very uncomfortable. He was perfectly aware of the first impression people might have of him, it wasn’t really positive, but he couldn’t help it.

He was simply introverted.

More than once, he wished he could take pills to heal, stop freaking out when he had to talk to a stranger, blessing the creator of e-mail each and every day, pushing the button of the elevator to close the doors quickly to be alone for the ride.

It wasn’t a big deal, he wasn’t weak, he had an opinion about almost everything, he just didn’t feel the need to share it with the rest of the world. He would never tell his life to someone he just met, because his life wasn’t interesting and, well, he was not interested in the other's life either. He simply lacked of confidence, living in his own world sounded more comfortable, safer. More than often he had been disappointed by people, it was his way to protect himself.

Since his childhood, he felt guilty for being introverted, as if it was a flaw but since his university years he finally admitted he had to deal with it. To be okay with not being totally okay. He didn’t need to have 134.000 Facebook friends to be happy, didn’t need to party each weekend to live a fulfilled life. Ken, his roommate was the only person to share his life with and the latter had perfectly accepted Nino’s weirdness since the beginning.

His only fancy was that guy, sitting in front of him. Not really in front of him, to be accurate two sits across from him, and on the other side of the aisle, hidden behind a newspaper. Just like Nino, he sat at the same place each day of the week. He was already here when Nino climbed into the train and got off one station before his.

He was fascinating, truly, that was the only word Nino could find to describe this so perfect man. Nino wasn’t even gay, wasn’t even interested to have an affair, but somehow, this gorgeous human being seemed to be out-of-place in this train. As if he had nothing to do with other people, with the so plain environment, with Nino’s world at last.

Since six months he observed him and somehow, he became the reason why Nino managed to smile when he went to work. He wondered how the man would be dressed today, if for once he would cross his gaze. He became Nino’s fad.

When Nino was a kid, he played a game with his grandfather, the ‘who-makes-what game’. They sat in a public place and imagined where people came from, what they were about to do, what their jobs was like, their families. It’s a habit that Nino kept in his lonely life. He didn’t know the name of that stranger, what he did for a living, if he had a wife, kids at home, but in his mind he had thousands of lives. He was a spy, spoke twelve different languages, led a multi-national company, slept with a different woman each night, dumping them when the morning comes and they couldn’t even complain, he was so handsome. Well, Nino guessed, that he wouldn’t have to take the train if it was the case, but he didn’t care, a fantasy didn’t have to be flawlessly realistic.

Nino risked a gaze above his Shonen Jump and the man was thumbing his inferior lip. Gosh. He swallowed the lump in his throat.

He wondered if he came straight home when he left the station. He never dared to follow him, Nino wasn’t bold enough, but he really would have liked to know. It was so silly. Sometimes, the man was absent and Nino feared an illness, or a detention (since his multinational company could be at the edge of legality). It never lasted for too long, fortunately, but he couldn’t help panicking until his comeback. And if he had to never see him again? Nino feared for his own sanity, hoping Ken would never notice his insane addiction. Surely not. Might he?

"I think it’s possible," Ken muttered and Nino had to listen carefully to hear him.

He left his contemplation and zeroed in on his roommate again.

"What is possible?" Nino scowled, surprised.

"To be so desperately eager for someone."

"You’re still on your book?" Nino chuckled, hiding a sudden blush behind his hand before looking outside. There was nothing to look at, though, except the walls of the tunnels covered by ads of every kind…or his splendid crush not so far away.

"Perhaps it is possible," Nino finally mumbled, looking straightforwardly at his friend.

"I’d like it. If it happened to me," Ken whispered like a confession.

"I don’t. To be so dominated by a person, to not be you anymore…to be so in love."

"You don’t have to be in love, it’s a matter of physical pleasure," Ken’s lips curved with a smile.

"I mean that you can’t feel this with someone you’re not in love with. Do you?"

Ken gazed around, as if spied, then leaned on Nino like a conspirator.

"It happened to me. Once. A guy during a party. He was like a magnet, we didn’t even talk, I didn’t even ask for his name, it was as if I couldn’t resist…it was a pure sex experiment."

"Hiroki knows?"

"No way and I will never ever tell him. We weren't even together at that time. It’s a secret, swear it to me!" Ken seemed deadly serious suddenly, which was very unusual, but Nino had to confess he ignored almost everything about his relationship to Hiroki. Were they even a couple?

"I promise, but you should stop reading this kind of crap, it drives you crazy," Nino said, pointing at the book with the red cover.

"Hiroki loves it when I read this kind of crap."

"He knows?"

"He doesn’t know but he enjoys the way I’m so…horny after."

"I don’t want to hear this."

Nino covered his ears and they were laughing like kids when he crossed his stranger’s gaze who was smiling to him. He blushed a bit more –which meant he was beet red- and hid behind his Shonen Jump again.

"Stop it already!"

He was looking at him, really, as if something linked them. Nino thought he was definitely biased. And crazy.

+ + +

Nothing prepared him for the shock he was about to receive the day the stranger disappeared from his life. He simply climbed on the train, one morning and the seat was empty. The usual hypothetical reasons popped up his mind and even if it already happened episodically, nothing could really reassure him.

That night, he tossed and turned in his sleep, unable to stop the train of the unreasonable questions invading his mind. It was pretty bad lately, he couldn’t even repress the fear to not see him again. A stranger. It was insane.

Nino had to wait an entire week to see him again. He scolded himself to be so silly, the man probably was on vacation or a business trip, nothing more.
But this hellish week helped him to figure out something. He had to make a move or he would regret it for the rest of his life.

Impossible for an emotional weirdo like him, Nino thought bitterly.

"Are you daydreaming again?" Ken asked by his side, waving his hand in front of Nino’s face. "You played games all night long, once again?"

"…Yeah." It was simpler than explaining he was too worried about Mister Dreamy.

"You should talk to him."

"Hm? Who?"

"The sexy guy," Ken said, arching an amused eyebrow.

"Who’s the sexy guy?"

"The man you’re drooling about. There." He pointed at him with his chin and Nino hid them behind the magazine. What the Hell!

"I don’t…well…I don’t!"

"Why are you so red? Just talk to him, it’s not a big deal. That’s the only way to know if he’s interested in you."

"Not at all."

"Stop it already, you're eyefucking him every day, again and again. What will you do at the end of your internship?"

"No way," Nino smirked ironically and couldn’t help but sneak at the man once again. He was closing his bag, ready to leave the train and stood by the doors.

"Go!" Ken murmured, pushing Nino’s back.


"Now! Follow him, I’ll say you’re ill at work."

Nino watched the man getting off the train and began to panic, half raised, ready to go, unable to take a decision. When the doors were about to slide Nino bit his lip to swallow the groan of frustration he was about to spit.

The stranger was on the side walk and was observing Nino. For a second, their eyes met and instinctively, Nino felt it was the last time they were seeing each other.

He sat back and in spite of the words of comfort Ken was offering to him, he couldn’t help but feel like crying.

+ + +

Four long years passed before Ninomiya came across the stranger again.

After graduating from university, he worked for a few months for Tokyo Inc. and fell into deep depression. It sounded totally idiotic, even for him but those brief encounters with the stranger each morning have become the centre of his life. Without this guilty pleasure, everything seemed to have lost its appeal. Losing his appetite, his sleep, his desire to wake up each day to go at work, without goal or purpose, he figured he had to revolutionize his life if he didn’t want to spend the rest of his days mopping around about his misery. Well, easy to say…

He was suffocating. Every week, every hour, every minute spent in this company.

Being ambitious was the solution of his problem, Nino was perfectly aware of it, but he wasn’t, had never been ambitious, never believed in himself. After almost a year of hesitation, making himself ill, dragging his feet more and more to enter this damn building he hated so much, he figured it out. He had to reinvent himself, build a new man, a self-confident, assured man, like this stranger he admired so much.

But…How do you turn the table when you don’t have any clue about what you really want to do? When you spent your entire life in a shelter? When all you like to do is playing video games and fantasizing about a stranger you once met on a train?

Nino started with quitting his job. A big bold step forward to make a difference. When you have nothing to lose anymore, you can only go forward. He was suddenly enthusiastic for the very first time, excited and totally terrorized. Doubts were following each steps he took but since nothing held him back anymore, he could only try his luck. And cross his fingers.

He met the chance one of those day he was bereft of hope. Nino was once again looking for a new job, wandering in the street, waiting for a hypothetical inspiration in vain. He was sitting in a café, cursing his idiocy, trying to find a way to be hired back by Tokyo Inc. when someone knocked at the window to attract his attention. Aiba Masaki was one of his schoolmate and as far as Nino could remember they had never been friends.

But apparently, Aiba had a totally different opinion of the subject. He sat down across from him as if they planned to meet in this café before an astonished Nino, and soon, he told him the story of his life, what happened to him since the end of high school, his new projects. Nino didn’t remember a lot about him but he perfectly remembered how enthusiastic the guy could be about everything. Habits die hard.

Surprisingly, Nino felt like telling him the disaster of his own life, the bad choices he made, his despair to find a way out.

"Are you still into video games?" was the only question Aiba asked after a second of silence.

Nino nodded slowly, wondering where this conversation was leading to and above all how Aiba did know about his video games addiction. It seemed that the latter had started a small computer consulting company. A very small company since he worked all alone, but he offered a partnership to Nino and all in all, he didn’t have a choice but to accept. To his biggest surprise, Aiba’s idea was purely genius.
Apparently, he had a gift for finding programming bugs in video games. All the big names in gaming relied on his talent and he made a shitload of money, which meant that he badly needed someone he could trust to lend him a hand. And he was crazy enough to give his chance to an old classmate he didn’t meet in years.

Six months later, they had to hire a third person and the next year, their small company moved into a skyscraper downtown, proudly nailing the sign on the wall –Niji Associates- behind the reception desk.
As unbelievable as it seemed, Nino found a job he worshipped, made himself a real friend and if somewhere in his mind the image of the gorgeous stranger was still lingering, he drew a line on his fantasy. He dived into work passionately and it honestly worked well for the next three years.

Nino had bought a big loft downtown, not far from his office, since he didn’t have a driving license –and trains lost their appeal the day the stranger left his life. He had thrown away his cheap strict suits, he didn’t need them no more, and if the introvert boy he was once was still inside him, he wasn’t the one in charge of his life anymore. During the first times, as associate of the enterprise, he had to work hard to pretend he was a confident self-made man but time passing by, he figured out what a great actor he could be. He could almost fool himself too. Almost. But somehow, this self-satisfaction had reached its limits.

He wasn’t old, barely 24 years old but he had to admit that this loneliness began to be a burden. He had a friend, Aiba, but the latter wasn’t a model of ‘normality’. Openly bisexual, he refused to choose between skirts and pants, simply fluttering freely according to his changes of mood. Above all, he loved group dates, so much, that not a week passed without one or two evenings dedicated to the activity. Was this even a legit hobby, Nino wondered?

Of course, Nino refused to come along and Aiba asked him each time without fail, but he began to think that perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea. He met girls at work but he refused to mix work and pleasure. Pleasure…it was a vast question. Of course, he had some affairs from time to time, he was a man, but nothing serious. Nino wasn’t even sure to be totally straight, after all, his only crush so far had been a man.

He didn’t even think about him. Almost never.

The day he came across him again, Nino was queuing at Starbucks before an important meeting with a big client of the company. No need to tell he was dragging his feet, postponing endlessly his first step into the building. It was a sunny day and Nino was wearing a T-shirt with a popular video game logo on it, a bright-red pair of chucks, ripped jeans (that somehow looked brand new) and his hair was styled in a short-cropped, trendy, dishevelled mess. He may have had the mind of a genius in the video games field, but no one would know from his style. It took him years for him to morph into the cool, confident man who was co-leading a successful company.

"Would you please bring back your pretty ass here? Like, now," Aiba’s voice howled in his phone and Nino was mumbling an "I’m on my way" when he heard the man in front of him saying he forgot his wallet.

He stepped forward and tapped the man’s shoulder to give him the money he needed. He was already so late…yet, nothing prepared him to cross the stranger of the train once again.

"Thanks, Mister?" the stranger said with a sexy smile which crucified Nino. He felt his cheeks crimsoning badly and thanks God, the weather was hot enough to explain this sudden change of carnation.

"Ninomiya. You’re welcome, it’s nothing," he managed to say, pulling himself together.

Calling himself a coward, because he was unable to start a proper conversation, he walked to the counter to order, when Nino noticed the stranger’s gaze on him. The same piercing but gentle gaze, the same petal shaped pulpous lips, the same high cheekbones, the same GQ model face...Gosh. The stranger of the train. Who was reaching out to shake his hand.

"I’m Sakurai Sho by the way. I’m chef in the restaurant you can see at the other side of the street, I’ll offer you a meal as payback."

Nino’s heart skipped a beat and after fetching his cappuccino, he walked to Sakurai who was waiting for him.

"A meal? Not a coffee?"

"The coffee sucks out there, that’s why I take mine here. But the cooking is delicious even if it’s not a fancy place," Sakurai chuckled and Nino’s heart fastened madly.

He couldn’t take his eyes of him as Sakurai –finally he had the man’s name- waved at him to reach his restaurant. That’s when Nino realized he didn’t shake Sakurai’s hand. Fuck.

He waited more than two weeks before passing the threshold of the place, dragging Aiba along to not make a fool of himself. Aiba didn’t ask any questions about this sudden interest for the restaurant, for once, Nino had a strange behavior and it intrigued him enough to follow him without a word.

The restaurant "Le Bistrot" was elegant and chic, Nino thought at first. He had a lot of meetings during those last four years and he wasn’t bad judge of the quality of a place now. It could have been called a classic place if everywhere around, on the walls, on shelves and on the tables were some very original, vintage but classy objects. Probably, they had been found in some expensive flea markets or auctions. He was not a specialist in architectural or artistic and cultural movements but the person who created this place had a kin for it.

Nino gave his name to the waiter at the entrance –without any hope that his stranger, no Sakurai Sho, was waiting for him but surprisingly the man seemed to have his name in his golden book- and they followed him to a table for two. He noticed the sudden very interested look of Aiba on the very skimpy black slack of the waiter. When he left them with a smile, placing two menus on the table Aiba’s eyes lingered a bit too longer on the man.

"I don’t think he’s on the menu," Nino said nervously, hiding his worry under a casual tone.

"What do you want to eat?" Aiba handed the menu to Nino who was looking around, anxious.

Was he even here today? He didn’t know what he wish for now.


Trying to relax, Nino opened the menu, skimming it rapidly. "Everything seemed to be delicious."

Aiba elbowed him enthusiastically.

When the gorgeous chef entered their field of vision, Nino gasped inelegantly and Aiba whistled in appreciation.

"Ohoh…I understand better now."

"I paid for his coffee the other day at Starbucks and he offered me a meal in exchange, that’s all."

Aiba laughed loudly, like he used to do and Sakurai, who was approaching their table, smirked brightly. He was wearing a black chef outfit with a crimson decorated edge, damned sexy, Nino thought, swallowing hard.

"Hello, Ninomiya-san," Sakurai drawled.

"Hi, Sakurai-san," Nino couldn’t believe he remembered his existence and above all, his name.

"I’m glad you came. You even brought a friend?" Sakurai asked, bowing at Aiba politely.

"I’m Aiba Masaki, Nino’s partner. Partner in business I mean, and you can call him Nino, right Nino, everybody calls him Nino," Aiba took a glance at Nino who was trying to stop his verbal diarrhea with the force of his spirit.

"So it will be Nino," Sakurai stepped back after a last fuck-me-sexy-smile. "Enjoy your meal, gentlemen."

"Oh fuck, he’s so totally fucking fuckable," Aiba concluded after half a second of silent to a mortified Nino. "Did you see his face when I said I was your partner? He was almost disappointed, I’d swear."

"Couldn’t you just shut the fuck up for once? And stop with those fuck! You don’t even know him!" Nino eructed as soon as Sakurai was back in the kitchen.

"And you do?"

Nino hanged the head and while the waiter was taking their order, two veaux Marengo and some encase to begin with, he decided it was high time to stop ignoring the problem Sakurai. "Well, I met him on a train years ago. Not really ‘meet’ in fact…"

As insane as this story seemed to be, Aiba drank Nino’s words and didn’t mutter a comment for once.

"So you fell in love?" Aiba asked while sipping his red wine.

"Not really, you can’t fall for someone you don’t know, right?"

"But you wanted him?"

"I wanted him to notice me," Nino murmured, taking a look at the closed door of the kitchen, surprised to be able to analyze things so clearly. "I admired him and meeting him again by chance…it’s strange."

"As if it's fate?"

"I’m not that romantic," Nino chuckled. "I’m rather curious about him. At that time, in the train I was wondering who he was, how did he earn his livings, today I was curious to see his place."

"Are you disappointed?"

"No way," Nino took another mouthful of the wonderful meal.

It was enough for today. He wasn’t even surprised when Aiba showed him a small piece of paper with a phone number and the name of the waiter. Jun

+ + +

"Why this crowd today?" Nino tried to hide his embarrassment behind a fake irritated tone.

The pair came back two times since their first meal, once a week but they didn’t meet Sakurai, to Nino’s despair. He saw him from afar each time the door of the kitchen was opened by a waiter but not once he came into the dining room. Apparently, he liked playing the hollow man and Nino cursed his idiocy for having kept his mouth shut the only time he had the chance to have a proper conversation.
Honestly, those weeks had been hellish for Nino. He forgot what it felt like craving for someone, craving for him. It bugged him deeply for so many reasons.

"Because it's the 14th of the month."


"You don’t know what happens on the 14th of each month in this restaurant?!"

"Why should I?"

Aiba smiled like Cheshire cat, daring a glance to his boyfriend slash affair slash maître d’hôtel. "Well, each 14th of the month, there’s a meal on the menu you can’t find on ordinary days. It’s said to be aphrodisiac and amongst people who order it, the chef chooses someone and spends the night with him or her."

Nino swallowed the sudden lump in his throat, then gasped unceremoniously, hiding his red face behind the menu, which had indeed a new line at the bottom, drawn with elegant cursive letters.

"W-what?" Nino tried to speak casually…in vain.

"Jun told me the other day. It's like some kind of tradition. I thought I told you…a lot of clients try their luck each month though…"

Nino’s heart was beating too fast, blurring his vision. Impossible. He was unable to stop the train of his anarchic thoughts, too astonished to move.


"Hm…Yeah, Sakurai."


"Do you think it’s true?"

Aiba clapped the menu and laid it on the table. "Order the meal, you’ll find out by yourself."

"And why should I?" Nino said in an undertone.

"Yeah, why should you? I wonder," Aiba mocked him. "The man you’re drooling about. Sakurai," he pointed at the kitchen’s door with his chin and Nino hid his face a bit more behind the menu. What the Hell! This man was so shameless! And what if someone heard him?!

"I don’t…well…I don’t!" Nino muttered sheepishly.

"Why are you so red? There’s nothing wrong, just talk to him. That’s the only way to know if he’s interested in you."

"I just can’t."

"Stop it, you're eyefucking him each time he comes into your field of vision, again and again. Plus, you met him two times by coincidence, it’s your fate, you belong together. It could explain why your love life is like the Desert of Gobi. You have a soul mate, it's damn romantic!"

"You don’t even know where the Desert of Gobi is," Nino smirked ironically, yet he couldn’t help but gasp when Sakurai walked across the full packed room. He went to his Maître d’hôtel Jun -what was his last name again, ah yeah, Matsumoto- then skimmed the reservation book. Was it really true? Was he choosing someone now? "And why would he do that? I mean it’s not as if he couldn’t have who he wants or something like that…"

"Jun told me, yes, don’t smirk this way, we’re actually talking…well from time to time between two rounds of…," Aiba mimicked a very blatant and very gross –according Nino- gesture.

"Don’t. Just go to the point, please."

"Anyway, Jun told me that Sakurai lived with someone who died a few years ago making him promise to not have any other relationship, like never."

"Gosh!" Nino arched a skeptical eyebrow, who would be so cruel? Well, somehow, he understood but he couldn’t imagine Sakurai’s sadness. Who could be cruel enough to bring his lover's heart into the grave with him?

"But he’s a man, he has some needs. That’s why he indulges himself only one night per month, with a stranger he will never ever have a real relationship with," Aiba ended dramatically.

"I can’t believe it," or Nino wouldn’t dare believing it. Was this good news or a bad news? He was unable to decipher his feelings.

"Go!" Aiba murmured, elbowing Nino to make him rise to his feet.


"Go, talk to him."

"About what?"

"About his cooking, what else? Order the meal and you'll know I didn’t lie."

"And…if nothing happens? If he doesn’t choose me?"

"There is only one way to know, I guess."

Nino took a deep breath, rose from his chair and walked to Sakurai, cursing Aiba, cursing his own cowardice. Then, Sakurai raised the gaze and watched him straightforwardly, a smirk adorning his beautiful face. Holy God, he couldn't in spite of those years, he couldn't go to the man and talk to him. Nino simply stepped by him, close enough to smell his delicious perfume and went to the restroom. He felt so useless.
But why should he talk to him? After all, Sakurai was simply a fantasy. A fantasy he could possibly reach once a month, said a little traitorous voice in his mind.

He didn’t want to think about it now, the hurdle was too big, unbridgeable. Perhaps next month? Ye,t when he went back to the table, Sakurai was here, talking with Aiba. Nino walked a bit slower, but the table came too fast so he stood by there like an idiot, he couldn’t approach him to find back the shelter of his chair.

"Nino, sit down. Sakurai-san came to say hello."

"Hello, Ninomiya-kun."

Oh this voice, so low, so sexy. Nino couldn’t repress a thrill of pleasure directed right to his lower belly. Nonetheless, he managed to bow, mumbling a "Hello" in echo to Sakurai's.

"Sakurai-san was asking me if we made our choice for tonight."

"I…we were still wondering, sorry for the convenience, the restaurant is full you probably need our table."

Would you stop talking nonsense and just nod, Nino thought, mentally slapping his silly head. Sakurai chuckled and Nino melted a bit more. Could that man be sexier?

"No, please, take your time. Earlier, I feared something bothered you, when you walked to the reception desk, right?"

"Not at all. I'd like a Boeuf Bourguignon but Nino wanted to order the special menu. Is it possible?"

Nino glared at Aiba and above all, avoided Sakurai’s gaze. How could he do this to him?! He leaned on his chair to grab his jacket to run away but the chef crossed his arms on his chest and blocked his way.

"It is." Those two simple words and Nino's brain liquefied once and for all. Sakurai couldn’t mean what Nino thought it meant? Yes? He could?! "Thus, you’ll be able to taste our Bouillabaisse. You can find it only once a month on the menu."

"I’m sure it is worth it, ne, Nino?" Aiba smiled joyfully and patted Nino's arm.

Such a backstabber. Nino tried to smile but he was damn sure that it ended with an awful grin.

"So…enjoy your meals, gentlemen?" Sakurai had a moment of hesitation or did Nino dream it?

The chef stepped back and nodded before walking straight to his kitchen.

"I can't believe you did this to me! I'm gonna kill you!"

"I just offered you the chance of your life, ungrateful man! Don't you want to throw away your V-card? You're a big boy now."

"I'm not...," Nino interrupted his sentence to thank the waitress who was skillfully putting a tray on the table, dispatching the plates before them. "I'm not a virgin!" he ended when she was far away enough.

"But this is only a man, a fucking splendid man who will shag you all night long if you're lucky enough to be chosen. Of course, he's not as gorgeous as Jun but...you have nothing to lose. And now eat."

It smelled delicious, heavenly. Nino ignored if it was truly an aphrodisiac meal or not, but he couldn't repress a moan of pleasure when he swallowed the first mouthful of this Bouillabaisse. He couldn't precisely pinpoint the ingredients of the recipes but it was undoubtedly the most delicious thing he ever ate. Aiba's silence was blatant too, yet, Nino wouldn't have traded a spoon of Bouillabaisse cooked by Sakurai for him against a fork of Boeuf bourguignon. They didn't exchange more than one or two words for the rest of the dinner, they didn't even talk about work which was an exploit by itself.
Matsumoto brought them the bill hidden inside an extravagant red portfolio and an I-told-you-I-was-right smile curved Aiba's lips when he reached out to give Nino a black card joined to the usual credit note.

"I think this is for you."

Nino took the dark card with Sakurai's address and contact data and on the back a date. Tomorrow at 07:00 pm for dinner.

+ + +

It’s been a day and Nino hadn’t spoken to anyone since he left the restaurant. One day was a very short spade of time and yet, Nino noticed that the more he grew older, the more time was flying by. One blink and one week was gone, another blink, one year had passed. But since he had a rendezvous with Sakurai, time had reverted back to the way it was when he was a child. When a school year seemed to be an eternity and a summer endless. Time had slowed down and it was excruciating. Those last 24 hours had been 24 years in hell. An eternity.

Just a few hours and he was still hesitating. Should he really go? Should he give up before even trying? Should he cover himself with shame by going to Sakurai’s place? It couldn’t work, impossible, he was so clumsy with people, especially with people he liked. And if he couldn’t pinpoint his feelings about Sakurai, he had no doubts about the attraction he felt for the man.

He googled Sakurai’s address and wasn’t surprised to learn he lived not far from the restaurant in one of those huge condos full of windows hovering over the city.
Nino ignored the two dozens of mails sent by Aiba, he knew the man was trying to help him but he had to decide by himself, as mad as it sounded.

Fact was that the purpose of this weird lottery was to have sex with the owner of the restaurant and was it a problem? Oh damn, yeah it was since Nino never had sex with any man. Not that he didn’t die to be laid by Sakurai, God knew he had fantasized about the man in every kind of situation and position, Sakurai was Nino’s fantasy number one since the train time. But was he ready to face the harsh reality?

What if the man was a real jerk, hoping he would open his thighs once the threshold of his condo was passed? And what was wrong with that, said the little demon’s voice in Nino’s head? After all, it was worth it. Sakurai was worth it. Nino never forgot Ken’s speech about mind-blowing sex with a mesmerizing stranger and he couldn’t deny he dreamed about it. A lot.
So why resisting? Aiba was right –just once will not hurt- he had nothing to lose, everything to gain and if the dinner was a fiasco, he only had to avoid Sakurai’s restaurant until the end of his days, not a big deal.
He was an adult. He wasn’t the timid and introverted Nino anymore…Plus, Sakurai chose him right? It surely meant something.

"I deserve to be laid!" Nino said, pointing a victorious fist to his reflection before flushing self-consciously.

He donned a white shirt and a grey tie, a pair of dark slacks, a black jacket and called a cab. He tapped the floor of the car nervously all along the way, and was sincerely surprised to be able to walk without stumbling to the door of the apartment. Knocking was another story.

Nino tried for several minutes, went back to the elevator, feeling totally idiotic when he came across the same old lady two times, then eventually knocked to assure her he wasn’t a burglar.

Sakurai opened immediately. He was wearing some of those mind blowing black clothes, shirt and slack, leaving not that much to Nino’s imagination. He was stunning.

"Good evening, come on in please," Sakurai said with a smile, moving aside to let Nino in.
"Excuse me."

Sakurai handed him slippers and Nino took off his boots, strangely moved to put his own shoes against his host’ who was bare feet. Nino took a deep breath, trying his best to forget the reason of his presence here tonight and followed him along the small corridor leading to the living room. It was a beautiful condo, elegant and sober at Sakurai’s image, with grey and beige furniture, some touches of black. No doubt, he hired the same interior designer for his restaurant. Nino felt Sakurai’s gaze on him and he flushed deeply.

"I was cooking, don’t you mind if I keep on? You can…," Sakurai gestured toward the living room. "Or you could keep me company."

"Yes. Definitely." Nino couldn’t endure the thought of staying here alone, rummaging again and again. Being with Sakurai wasn’t the best way to forget his angst but he wanted to be with him, no doubts about it.

"Follow me." Sakurai led him to the kitchen, strangely small for a professional chef. Well-equipped, of course, and the meal was smelling heavenly but the kitchen was definitely smaller than Nino thought. "As strange as it seems, I don’t cook that much at home. Usually, I bring back some leftovers from the meals from the restaurant…when I eat at home," Sakurai said as if reading Nino’s mind.

"I guess you don’t have a lot of free time."

Sakurai smiled widely. "I love my job, it’s more than a business, so I don’t really mind. Would you like a glass of wine?"

"Yes please."

Sakurai served him a glass of white wine and Nino took a sip while the chef went back to his saucepans.

"May I help you?" Nino asked, folding up his sleeves, boldly approaching Sakurai.

"It’s almost done but you can…," Sakurai reflected for a second and Nino could swear he was avoiding his gaze, "Set the table in the living room? You’ll find everything you want here," he said, pointing at the kitchen dresser.

"Ok. I choose?" Nino said before realizing his fishy choice of words.


Nino sighed deeply and when he achieved his task, Sakurai was following him with a tray filled with some very mouthwatering meals.

"I didn’t really know what you’d like and I didn’t want to serve you what you used to eat at the restaurant so I cooked some samples of my favorite food."

They sat down on the fluffy carpet laid under the low table and Nino couldn’t believe this surreal scene. To be honest, he was a bit confused. They would eat and then? Sakurai was a real gentleman, as always, so when would they slide to the moment they would be naked? Better not think about it…

"So why did you become a French cuisine’s chef?" he asked as he took a first mouthful of a delicious stuff he was unable to name.

"I love French cuisine and my first boss, a French guy, taught me the ropes and eventually I lived in France for two years, I studied in a school there," Sakurai said, pouring another drink of wine to his guest. "But I didn’t really ask what do you do for your living?"

Nino chuckled sheepishly. "Nothing fancy like you! Basically I’m paid by big video game companies to play and find bugs in their games before the release. I’m a kind of…game freak."

"You’re a kind of genius," Sakurai said with an obvious admiration which startled Nino. "And Aiba-san said you created this company."

"To be totally honest, he had the idea and I helped him. I quit my job at that time and I was kind of desperate…," Nino told him this dark period, laughing at his own foolishness. "I still have a hard time to understand where I found the idea to leave everything behind. I was such an idiot!"

"I admire you. You’re admirable," Sakurai sounded so sincere but he was probably only a matter of politeness, Nino thought with bitterness.

"I’m not. But this meal definitely is. And this wine is delicious. Are you trying to get me drunk?" Nino asked with a mocking smirk.

"Definitely," Sakurai answered with his so thrilling voice and Nino swallowed hard.

"It works." It wasn’t only the wine, of course, but Nino wasn’t bold enough to confess that Sakurai’s presence was more intoxicating than the syrupy alcohol. Sakurai laughed out loud, pouring another drink to prove his point.

They kept on eating and Sakurai –call me Sho, please- told him about his restaurant, the way he chose it, the way he created the design following the example of some bistrot he ate at when he was in France. It was small restaurants, very cozy, artless where people were coming and going permanently, eating a delicious family cooking.

"Don’t you miss it?" Nino asked, taking off his slippers to slide his legs under his butt.

"Sometimes. But I plan to go back for holidays in one or two years."

"I’d like to see that too."

Sho smirked at Nino’s sentence but didn’t say more. Did it sound too desperate, Nino thought with shame.

"One day. Tell me…," Sho scooted aside, sitting by Nino’s side and Nino felt his heart skyrocketing. "Would you help me finish this level I keep on failing?"

Nino laughed with relief –very nervously- and simply said "Give it to me," pointing the control pad before chuckling out of embarrassment. He really had to watch his mouth with this man.

Resident Evil wasn’t really Nino’s jam, but teaming with Sho was a thrilling experience, especially because they decided to darken the apartment to be in zombies apocalypse mood. Sitting side by side, their backs against the couch, their thighs surreptitiously touching each other’s, some bottles of beer on the table, Nino began to relax bit by bit. He was still very conscious of Sho’s presence, Sho’s body so close to his, but somehow he managed to forget a bit the purpose of this dinner. Sho had a deep sense of humor, he liked drinking his beer from the bottle, laughed when he was nervous –aka attacked by a flock of undead- , was most gorgeous at close range –if possible- and smelled damned good, a mix of sandalwood, citrus and something Nino couldn’t identify. They kept on playing, level after level, exchanging their impressions about the game, the awfully terrifying music, sliding to most personal topics until the moment they left their control pads for good on the floor. Talking to Sakurai Sho was exceptionally easy, Nino noticed, which was extraordinary for a man like him. He made him feel right, as if everything he spoke was interesting and clever, he made him feel great.

"So do you have a boyfriend? A girlfriend perhaps?" Sho asked as they were finishing an umpteenth beer.

Nino felt his cheeks burning a bit more. He wouldn’t be here if he had someone, but if he gave that answer, he would have to admit he was here for only one reason, sleep with him.

"I’m single," he said warily, doing his best to not look at Sakurai’s hand, not feel the caress of his fingers on his shoulder.

"I can’t believe someone like you has no one in his life."

Nino chuckled awkwardly. "Someone like me?"

Sho caressed Nino’s cheek with the tip of his thumb, his eyes glazed with something Nino couldn’t fully interpret but made him melt. What did he meant? Someone who has money? Someone who owned a company?

"Someone so cute." Sho murmured, leaning forward to peck his lips.

Nino jolted and raised up. He couldn’t do that in spite all the desire he felt. It wasn’t him, he wasn’t ready to spend a night with a man he won’t hear about tomorrow. Sho broke his heart once already and he wasn’t willing to suffer again. The damage has already been done but at least, Sho didn’t know, Nino’s pride was safe. He grabbed his jacket and strode to the door.

"I’m sorry. I can’t. I thought I could but I was wrong," he muttered hastily, his heart hammering painfully.

He was a coward that’s who he was and he couldn’t help it. It was only a matter of self-protection, he wanted to save what could be saved. He was at the door when he felt Sho’s hands on his hips and when he turned around he met his gaze, full of passion.

"Don’t go," Sho pushed him against the wall, his grip firm on his hips, his mouth already looking for his. "Please."

Then, Sho lowered his head, and Nino watched the slow-motion approach of his deep hazelnut eyes. The first touch of their lips was tentative, as if they both needed one more second to figure out whether this was truly happening.

Hell yes, it was. Nino crushed his mouth on Sho’s. And then they were kissing, and Nino was twenty again, and desperate to taste him. He felt exactly the same surge of shock and passion as all those years ago, when he was fantasizing about the stranger on the train. The slide of Sho’s soft lips on his lit him up. Without thinking, he cupped Sho’s face in one palm, and Sho opened up for him. A split second later, Nino’s tongue invaded his mouth. Sho tasted like wine and refined meal. And pure lust.

Sho pinned him a bit more against the wall, rubbing his lower belly against Nino’s, making him feel his exquisite hardness. And it sent a pure jolt of electricity to Nino’s groin.

"Stay," Sho whispered on his lips and Nino could only nod, totally depraved of willingness.

Once second ago, he wanted to run away but now he was incapable of remembering why. It wasn’t his first kiss but it had been so intense. When Sho took his hand to guide him into the apartment again he didn’t protest and as soon as they entered the bedroom he was not so gently pushed on the bed. He watched Sho taking off his shirt and opening the first button of his slack. Gosh, this man was gorgeous. Nino bit his lip to contain a moan of pleasure. Sho paused with one knee on the bed, poised to get in, observing Nino to all his heart's content but the latter crimsoned, too self-conscious. Sho climbed on the bed and hovered over him, gently kissing his face as his hand wandered to the south, until Nino’s belt.
"I was wrong. You aren’t cute, you’re sexy," Sho murmured in his ear. He slid his fingers in Nino’s brief boxer and squeezed the rock-hard member, tearing him off a groan. Nino looked down, his eyes falling on his turgescent member between Sho’s slender fingers.

"Could we turn the lights off?" It was so embarrassing. So crude. He didn’t want to ask, to sound like a prudish boy but not once he had sex with lights on. He reached out to the nightstand where the bedside lamp was, but Sho stopped him.

"Don’t. I want to see you and I’m pretty sure you want to see me too. You’re with me, not with someone else."

Did he think he wanted to be elsewhere? No, this man knew what he was doing, he knew how much he was wanted but Nino didn’t dare arguing. Especially not when Sho’s mouth crushed on his once again.
Sho removed Nino’s clothes with a few smooth movements, then guided Nino’s arms above his head, making him grip the headboard. Then, he got down on him, kissing each and every parcel of soft skin on his path.

Nino arched his back as Sho engulfed his manhood with an appreciative moan. Gosh, he won’t last for long if he kept on like that. He wasn’t an addict to oral sex until now but under Sho’s ministrations he was living an incredible moment of new and thrilling sensations. He risked a tentative look to his partner and the view totally undid him. Pure lust and desire were misshaping Sho’s face, his head bobbing up and down on Nino's length, his moans of pleasure sending divine sensations all around his cock. When Sho released him to kiss his balls, gently parting Nino’s legs, he complied gladly unable to resist to the heavenly feeling.

Since the time he met him on the train, Nino thought a lot about the way men distributed their respective roles. Did men talk about it or played janken to decide? The thought made him laugh.

"You okay?" Sho asked with the ghost of a smile.

"I am. It’s just that…I’m not an expert," Nino confessed after carefully choosing his words. "I never…with a man…" So much for chosen words. Sho came back to him, his hands on both side of Nino’s head.

"If you want me as much as I want you, everything will be fine." Sho pecked his lips. "Do you want it? Me inside you."

The last trace of embarrassment disappeared at this very moment. It seemed so…natural in Sho’s mouth. It wasn’t some dirty talk, made for excitement purpose only, it was a moment of truth and Sho asked him sheer sincerity.

Nino nodded and he watched Sho fetching a bottle of lube and a condom from the nightstand. Sho slid his hand between his buttocks, generously embrocating his hole. Nino thrilled with excitement as Sho entered a first finger, rapidly asked for more, his softening cock stiffening again when he found his G-spot.

"Oh God!" Nino cried, feeling the first leak of precum poising on the top of his member.

He wanted to wriggle, to push Sho’s fingers further, to beg, but as if reading his mind, Sho placed between his opened thighs.

"Don’t be afraid. Look at us." Sho cooed while pushing the mushroomed head to Nino’s hole.

Sho was right, watching their two lower bodies united pushed the sex to another level. More exciting. More real. More carnal. Sho prepared him well and Nino welcomed him with a gasp of pleasure. He filled him so well, so completely as if he was the missing piece of his puzzle. When he had entered his entire sheathed length inside him, he stopped moving, giving him the necessary time to get accustomed to the sensation. Sho’s cock girth was impressive and it was slightly curved, touching all the right parts inside him.

Sho nuzzled at the crook of Nino’s neck and the way he sucked the soft skin probably would leave an indent but Nino didn’t care at that moment. He moved his hips, placing the palms of his hands on Sho’s flank to coax him to move.

"Will you beg me?" Sho asked with a cocky grin.
"’Course I will," Nino was serious, dead serious and Sho’s face changed, the smugness disappeared and he kissed him gently, earnestly, almost religiously.

He began to move torturously slowly, their bodies so close that each thrust rubbed Nino’s cock, made it roll between their stomachs. The kiss became messier, deeper, their groans of pleasure the only sound in the room. Every kiss, every flex of Sho’s hips brought Nino closer to the brink and he felt his orgasm building from the tip of his toes to the extremity of his head, exploding like a fireworks. Sho kept on pounding through Nino’s climax faster and faster, then moved back, took off his condom to spur his load all over his partner’s stomach, covering it with his semen.

Sho smiled with his bruised hot mouth and laid on Nino, kissing him again and again until they completely recovered. They didn’t talk, taking a few minutes to cuddle and kiss until they were ready for a second, then a third round. Nino knew his body would be a wreck the next day but he refused to even spare a thought on it. For the moment, all he could think about was the fact that he’d gotten something he always wanted. But it was terrifying to realize immediately afterwards, how much he still wanted it. Once would never, ever be enough.



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