He treats me to what can only be called a date. It is the kind of date people have in movies, where they spend the entire day together doing silly date things. After an early lunch, of penne arrabiata for those of you that absolutely have to know, he took me to a theme park in Akiba. He has changed out of the kimono and hakama and into a light tee and a pair of tight, very tight, too tight, jeans that make my eyes water. He is even wearing trainers, something I wasn't even sure he owned.
It really is the kind of date people have in boy-love manga and the irony is not lost on me either. "I want to go on the roller coaster," he says pulling me by the hand towards a wooden monstrosity of loops and whirls, the sort of thing that on the rare occasion we have treated Nagi to this kind of affair it's Farfarello that has to accompany him on the roller coasters. I have always had too much dignity, but there is something about the way he smiles, the way his hair is falling out from under his baseball cap over his eyes, and the heat of his hand in mine and before I know it I'm wandering along to join the queue.
It's the sort in which you are strapped in in pairs by a metal bar over the knees and then flung about so thighs are pressed against thighs. I must admit that I enjoyed the way he clung to my arms and slammed against me and screamed.
Afterwards we lurched off towards a small booth where we had our fortunes read and he laughed when The Lovers was turned, then The High Priestess, the queen of secrets. He gave her some yen but didn't let her finish the reading, slipping his arm through mine and then taking me off to another ride.
There is a small petting zoo and he drags me to see the lambs and the piglets, laughing and joking until it is time to eat supper but instead of us leaving the park he insists on just grabbing something light. It is burgers we eat under neon lights, drinking over perked coffee and laughing at the memory of what we have done that day.
"We have done every ride here." He says looping his arm through mine again, "except that one." He gestures to the Ferris wheel. "I deliberately left it to last.
"but," I say, thinking I might need a drink before I can do that.
"We're not that grown up, surely." He says, "We'll grab a beer and then the big wheel okay."
And what choice do I have but to give in when he looks so lovely and he wants it.
The beer comes in waxed cups with a thick foamy head, I buy it with a giant salted pretzel the kind you can get on the streets of New York. They are hot and good and there are salt freckles on his lip that he licks away and I think I might faint as he laughs. When he drinks the beer it leaves a moustache and I wipe at my mouth with the side of my hand because I'm scared I might have one too.
"You are so precious," he says with a laugh, then his pink tongue pokes out to clean away the foam, "we're at the funfair," he says, "we're supposed to eat crap and get it all over your face and then lick it clean."
I'm not sure if I heard it right, but between the loud heartthrob and rather painful goosebumps, I could've fainted right here right then. I've been feeling like fainting all day anyway, must as well…
But he does not give me much chance to think, before I know it, he has leaned forward and licked the remains of beer foam from the corner of my lips. It is not so bad, actually, but I have to act like the fool I have become, and shift my head that our lips meet.
And he does not pull back.
For a moment I think about the delicious pretzel, but I know it is not pretzel pressing to my lips, it is his lips, soft an a bit cold from the beer, and it's moving against my lips, so it's not pretzel, and it's more delicious than pretzel...
I almost grunt when he pulls back as we hear the giggling of girls nearby. He smiles, looking so innocent as if he has not just done something so… so terrible… embarrassing… no, pleasant, whatever, and I… I cannot help but wanting more.
My knees almost gave away when once again his pink tongue pokes out to lick his lips, this time very, very slowly. I want to be those lips… no, those tongue… no…
"We can do it once again in the Ferris Wheel," he says. I barely listen to him as I am busy wondering how he manages to keep the innocent look on his face. "Nobody will see." Suddenly, he brings up the true purpose of a Ferris Wheel. "Or…"
My heart stops as he pauses. He looks at me directly in the eyes, then his eyes darken. "Or we can find a motel and do it there."
Fortunately, it is the time I get the grip of my self control back. "Are you propositioning me?" I ask, putting a little mocking smile at the corner of my lips.
He smiles. He only puts me in worse torture by doing that. "Haven't you been thinking about that all of this time, for all these months?"
I push my glasses up my nose bridge, acting as if that is the stupidest words I have ever heard while I can feel my dick practically dances in joy in my pants. Take him, take him, you bastard, it may scream if it could.
"Well, if you think…," but I don't get to finish my words. His lips on mine stop me from talking, and thinking.
It is only a brief one, and when he breaks it, he says, "Let's go to the Ferris Wheel." His breath is quick and short.
I know that even after this, when I finally get myself into a Ferris Wheel, I still don't have the story to tell. I won't be able to share my experience of enjoying the ride, the view, the excitement. It is indeed exciting, but I concentrate more on exploring his mouth and lips and tongue and teeth, that it takes us three rounds on the giant wheel before we decide that that's enough for the day.
Not enough for me, not enough at all.