Hidden Legacy

A secret place for writings


Closet Fears

“Mmm… nice.”

“… very funny.”

“What, wasn’t it good for you?”

“…”

“Aw, c’mon!” There was an almost petulant tone to that voice. “You gotta admit, that was some of the good stuff!” The tone of the voice lowered seductively. “And you’re absolutely gorgeous, you know that?”

The other voice had softened somewhat, but the tone was still firm. “Next time I’m on top.”

“Aw, Aya…” Loud footsteps thundered across the floor, and the door opened, then shut.

Thank god!

The closet door opened slowly, and a frazzled Ken stumbled out, face still burning, and with both hands pulling his shirt down hard to cover the telltale stain at the front of his pants.

That is the last time… The next time they start something while I’m trapped in the supply closet, I am coming out and telling them to keep it in the bedroom!

That didn’t help the current situation. Ken looked warily out into the hallway to make sure no one was around, then made a dash for the bathroom. Thankfully enough, it was unoccupied.

Safely inside, he locked the door and collapsed back against it, sinking down to the floor and burying his burning face in his hands.

I can’t believe it happened again!

It wasn’t just that this particular incident was the second time Youji and Aya had started something… intimate… while he was trying to clean out the supply closet. That was embarrassing enough, but the fact was that Ken had never been able to let them know that he was there was worse. And it wasn’t because he was too embarrassed, either.

Because when they were right there… doing such erotic, sensual, forbidden things…

But I’m not gay! Ken protested mentally, fervently trying to repress that memory, pushing aside the evidence of that lie as hard as he could. I’ve never been attracted to guys! Not even once!

“Ken?” a husky-soft voice said through the door. That voice, combined with the remembered images, gave him a completely new problem.

Well… maybe just once. God…

“What is it, Omi?” he asked, and congratulated himself on keeping his voice totally steady.

“Are you going to be long? I want to have a shower.”

Unwanted – but not entirely unwelcome – mental image. Ken bit his lip for a moment before answering. “I was just about to have one myself – sorry, Omi.”

“That’s okay. I’ll wait.” His soft footsteps moved away from the door.

Ken waited until he couldn’t hear them any more, then rose up and started to strip off his clothing, almost savagely, in an attempt to distract himself. It didn’t help much.

I will not think dirty thoughts about Omi, Ken told himself firmly, stepping into the water – shockingly cold, which was generally how he had his showers most of the time. He reached blindly for his shampoo and opened it up to pour a generous helping into his hand. I will not think dirty thoughts about Omi. I will not think dirty thoughts about Omi. I will not –

His thoughts were cut off right in the middle. In the confusion, he’d accidentally grabbed Omi’s shampoo instead of his own – the shower was suddenly full of that usually-faint, familiar scent. Nonononono! No dirty thoughts! Ken groaned, assaulted all at once with the remembered image of Youji and Aya locked in a passionate battle for dominance – except this time it wasn’t their faces in his mind… God!

By the time he stumbled out of the shower, he was in worse condition than when he’d gone in – face flushed, not satisfied at all, and desperately hoping he wouldn’t run into Omi on the way out. He wrapped a towel around his waist, gathered his clothes, and ducked down the hallway to his room.

It was getting harder and harder not to lose control. Every time Youji and Aya so much as touched each other, all he could think about was doing the same with Omi – how it would feel… The younger boy was nineteen; he still that soft, pale skin and wide set of blue eyes but there were other things, too, maybe things that had already been there that Ken just hadn’t noticed. His slight hips, pleasantly shaped thighs, tightly muscled upper torso… Ken had never thought he would find male features attractive, but on Omi… good god, it was like a siren’s song!

And it got worse every day.

Doesn’t matter. Ken sighed. He’s probably straight. Or else he thinks he’s totally straight and then one day some distracting, sweet, incredibly sexy, frustrating piece of work will come along and blow that theory to hell!

Damn Youji and Aya for hooking up and putting the thoughts into his head in the first place! It was all their fault!

A soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts. “Ken?”

No… I can’t deal with this right now… Still, he couldn’t think of any non-suspicious reason to lock his door and refuse to let the younger boy see him. “Come in.”

Omi opened the door, and slipped inside, the smile that Ken unintentionally daydreamed about on his face. There was a somewhat hesitant quality to it. “Can I talk to you for a minute, Ken?”

God, he was beautiful. Ken sat up and moved over. “Sure. Sit down,” he offered, waving at the newly freed space on the bed.

The younger boy sat himself down. Even a blind man would’ve noticed the tension in his posture. Omi took in a shaking breath, staring resolutely at Ken’s floor.

“Is something the matter?” Ken asked him, all at once too concerned to think about his confused feelings for his teammate. “You look like you’re about to go into a wrestling match with all four members of Schwartz.”

Omi threaded his fingers together and started to say something, then shut his mouth, stared at the wall opposite Ken, and bounced his hands against his legs nervously. “I… you… Ken… Was there… was there something… something you wanted to tell me?”

Could he know? Ken tried to make himself look normal, and paused for a moment to make sure the rapid pounding of his heart didn’t show in his voice. “Not really. Why? What made you think that?”

“I just…” Omi seemed to have trouble forming sentences, and he still wouldn’t look at Ken. “I thought maybe… that I noticed… that you…” He let out a shaky sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m doing this all wrong. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” Ken was more than a little worried, watching the younger boy try to calm himself. “Omi, really, don’t stress out. Whatever you want to tell me, it’s fine.”

“I…” He started to say something, then shook his head, then seemed to steel himself. Abruptly, he turned his face toward Ken’s, blue eyes determined. “Ken, I’m – I’m – “

“You’re, you’re,” Ken repeated, trying to put him at ease with the light jest.

“Gay!” Omi blurted out, then his face went from its normal coloring to approximately the same shade as an apple in seconds flat. He looked away, back at the floor. “Sorry,” he whispered.

Ken felt as if he’d been doused with cold water. “Gay?” he repeated. “As in…?”

“As in, I like boys and not girls.” Omi let out a weird half-chuckling noise that sounded like it might’ve been just that side of hysterical. “Not like… I’m really happy or something.” He twisted his fingers some more, staring at them in apparent fascination.

I’m not hearing this… Ken rested his face on his hands, which he’d pressed together as if in prayer. “Omi… why are you telling me this?”

Omi shut his eyes. “I thought…” He let the sentence trail off, then seemed to force out the rest of what he had to say. “I like you.” His face flushed again, as if he realized how childish that sounded. “Or… not exactly ‘like’… I mean, it’s more, not so simple… not so…” He swallowed hard. “Not so non-physical, I guess…”

I can’t deal with this! Not now! “I don’t know what to say to that,” Ken blurted out. “I mean, you’re a guy!” Way to go; state the obvious. That should help. “It’s weird.”

Omi abruptly pushed himself off the bed. “I understand.” His voice shook only slightly, and the phrase was strangely empty, like it was something he’d practiced. “I’m sorry for bothering you, Ken,” he continued, hurrying out the door as if he couldn’t get out fast enough.

Ken stared after him.

What the hell was that?

‘It’s weird’? What had he been thinking? Thirty seconds before he came in, I was thinking about how sexy he was! Why can’t I ever go for what I want?

Maybe that was the difference, though. Ken frowned to himself, leaning back. Omi had come into his room with a purpose in mind and, though he’d stumbled through it with an almost painful nervousness, he had accomplished what he’d set out to do. And what had he wanted?

He still didn’t really know.

Omi knows who he is. He knows what he wants.

I don’t.

Ken swallowed hard, twining his fingers together in an unconscious imitation of Omi’s earlier pose. He acted like he was expecting me to turn him down. There couldn’t have been much chance in his mind that he would get the answer he wanted. But he was still hurt… Obviously – he wouldn’t have come if he didn’t have some hope. There was a look on his face before he turned away, like he’d gambled everyone on a single hand, and lost it all. The devastation in those wide blue eyes he’d studied so often tore at his heart.

But I was the one who did that to him! He studied his tangled fingers, still frowning. Ken shouldn’t be hurting Omi – he should be protecting Omi. Defending him against the world. Holding him close and kissing away his hurt, making him smile and lighting up his eyes.

I’m attracted to a boy. It was smoother than Omi’s confession – but every bit as painful, he thought, for sure. And that makes me gay, too. Maybe not totally gay… but still gay.

He untwisted his fingers and got up to leave the room.

Omi was in the back room, fingers busy with flower arrangements that really didn’t have to be done until the next morning. He was working fast, his back to the door, his movements strained, as if he was trying very hard to concentrate on what he was doing. The closet door was slightly open beside him, but he didn’t seem to notice.

For a second, Ken frowned. I could swear I closed that… He shook his head to push the thought away. Omi probably had to get something out of there.

He cleared his throat. “Omi?”

The younger boy jumped, and spun around. “K-Ken! I didn’t hear you… I mean…” He stuttered for a moment, partly out of surprise, and partly from nervousness. “Sorry – what did you want?”

“To apologize.” Ken sat down in the chair beside him. “I’m sorry, Omi.”

“For what?” Omi had stopped adding flowers to the bouquet he’d been creating. He was looking down with his hair covering his eyes, and his fingers were trembling against the surface of the table. “You’re not like that. It’s okay.” His voice shook, but he appeared to be keeping his emotions under control. “You can’t force yourself to like me.”

“Omi.” Ken reached out – his fingers were shaking, too – and raised his teammate’s face so that they were looking right at each other. There were unshed tears resting in those expressive blue eyes – they flooded as Ken’s met them.

“Sorry,” Omi whispered, and this time his voice did break. “I was trying not to.”

“I’m gay too!” Ken burst out, not thinking. Great… way to be smooth about this.

Omi’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Um… I mean, I’m kind of… attracted to you.” Ken rubbed the back of his neck nervously. “That’s what I’m sorry for. When you told me… I don’t know… I panicked. You know me: open mouth, insert foot.”

“Are you serious?” Omi had a wary look on his face, like he wasn’t really sure he should believe what he was hearing.

Ken was getting impatient. He knew how Omi felt; he knew how he felt. This shouldn’t be taking so long. Impulsively, he decided to cut the conversation short and leaned forward to claim that long-desired kiss.

Omi’s lips were soft, and after the initial shock, he was responsive and pliant like Ken had sometimes tried not to imagine he would be. It was the sweetest thing…

Still, he broke it off early. “Does that feel sure enough for you?”

A hesitant, wondering smile spread on Omi’s face. “Yes.” Then he blinked, looking puzzled. “Ken, why are you shaking?”

“No reason.” Ken cupped Omi’s face in his hands. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since Youji and Aya told us about them.” He shook his head, half-smiling. “When did you get so sexy?”

Omi’s eyes went very soft. “Ken…” he breathed, meeting Ken’s gaze squarely. That same rush of heat as before swept over the older boy’s body. “How sturdy would you say this table is?” he asked all at once, surprisingly. The smile on his face was just a touch shy.

Ken bent to reclaim those tempting lips, and snickered, thinking of earlier. “I’d say it’s sturdy enough,” he said confidently, and slid his hands down Omi’s lower back in a suggestive way.

~~~~~~

Significantly later, the pair of sleepy, satisfied boys stumbled out of the supply room together, pausing every few steps for another sloppy kiss, both reveling in the new depth their relationship had reached.

The light in the room clicked off behind them, and the door shut.

Directly following that, the closet door burst open and Youji, clutching the side of the small area, slowly emerged. His eyes had a bit of a wild look to them, and his posture was undeniably tense.

“That,” he muttered, half in shock, “is the last time I ever try to organize that damn closet!”

The End


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