By: Sophia Moon

Yohji likes women. I mean it. He really does. He smiles when they enter the
shop. And it isn't a fake smile. He gives them his voice dripping with sex,
the compliments about well shaped ankles. He gives them his anger and
strength and courage when they are hurt. Nobody hurts his beloved women
and lives to brag about it.

He does not sleep with them. Not since he sleeps with me. Maybe even before
that, but that is really none of my business. Yes, I know it's hard to
believe that 'I'm only interested in girls older than 18' Yohji Kudou is
bedding me, 17 year old Omi. And the strange thing about it is, that it all
started so gradually. This something between us, this mixture of friendship,
lust and yes love, as in 'I love you and want to marry you if that would be
possible and I know it isn't possible and I still want it.'

Just smiles and touches and looking out for each other. Just a few words.
And still, somewhere along the line we recognized the difference between
friendship and something more. Or maybe not more, because even now, knowing
his body and what his body can do with mine and needing it with the need of
a starving man, I still cherish his friendship above all.

It's all new enough to remember the first time I saw him naked. And I don't
mean: without cloths coming out of the shower in a hurry to start his shift
before Aya really pisses off. There is a different kind of naked. I never
saw another man in that kind of situation before. He was my first. I can't
judge how innocent I really was, I am a assassin after all, but in sexual
matters my knowledge was purely theoretical.

No, that is not entirely the truth. I've seen them. Aya and Ken. Of course
I've known for some time they're lovers. Even I am not that innocent I like
them together, simply because they make a lovely pair. Aya tries to smile
and Ken tries to control his temper. Ugly orange sweaters… Need I say more?
I guess love does that to a man.

I saw them. In Aya's room. In fact their room. Ken on his knees: his head
hidden in his hands, his legs wide, his ass high. Aya behind him. Fucking
him. It was deeply wrong of me to stay there and look. Their act was
primitive and sacred and not to be seen by a strangers eye.

Aya turned his head slightly. I started mumbling something about forgetting
to knock. He didn't even acknowledge me being there, though I'm absolutely
sure he saw me. He simply turned away from me and claimed his mate by
grapping his hips and driving into him with such force that I could almost
feel Kens discomfort. And yet, my feet already outside, but my heart still
with them, I could hear Ken utter his word of unconditional surrender.
A strong, gentle hand on my shoulder led me away. "Come, sweetheart. Let
them be."

There were still smiles and innocent touches between Yohji and me. But there
was also something new. I wanted him in the way Ken wanted Aya. I didn't
have to tell him in so many words. He knew.

So the smiles became more knowingly. The touches less innocent. Yohji took
his time to court me. He didn't have to bring me little presents, take me to
movies and the park. He could have me in any position within an hour after I
saw Aya and Ken. He only slightly shifted his attention from mere friend to

It was at that time that I learned that being a lover didn't start in the
bedroom. Despite his reputation as a playboy, as one who has little use for
something more than one night stands, he was almost too slow in taking the
initiative. Of course I could have openly seduced him. I know that now, but
at that time I just waited and smiled. I liked being the center of Yohji's
attention. I liked his kindness and the way he made me feel special. But I
also wanted something that I didn't know how to ask for. Or rather, I didn't
have the courage to ask for. Because that one question, as much as we were
both ready for it, would change our relationship. And there would be no
turning back. Words once uttered could never be taken back.

And still I said them. Well, sort of. We had kissed again. That we did a
lot, kissing. Not as starting point to something else. No, kissing was
kissing. Complete in itself. After that he would send me to my room. It was
almost cruel, because he must have known how my body was preparing itself
for something that simply wasn't going to happen. But I imagined, alone in
my bed, that my hand was his hand. And although I couldn't pull it of,
because of difference in size and my less than perfect imagination, during
these moments I learned more about my own body than in all years since I
started puberty.

"Time for bed, Omi," he stated, his voice thick with lust, but still

"Yes, time for bed," I sighed. I tried to hide myself in his arms, so he
wouldn't find me and send me away. I didn't want my own left hand, I wanted
him. And although, despite of watching Aya and Ken, I didn't really know
what I wanted, I still craved for it. "Can I stay with you? Please? I will
not bother you. Can I, Yohji?

He kissed my temple. "I'm sure you will not bother me, Omi-chan. But I'm not
so sure about myself."

"You have been doing all kinds of nice things to me for weeks now. We kiss
and you hold me in your arms. And then you send me to bed," I protested.
"You don't really want me. That's it. You just want to be nice, because you
are a nice person and you like me. If you prefer a woman in your bed, why
don't you tell me so?"

Why did that come from? Alright, he never stopped flirting with any and all
pretty young woman he laid eyes on. But he hadn't date one since he gave me
my first kiss. No, even before that. He never did or say anything in the
privacy of his room that suggested he rather had female company. Stupid
mistrust. He would talk it out of my head.

"In a way that would be easier. I know what is expected of me when I'm with
a woman. You would know it if you had fallen in love with a little
girlfriend." Yohji stroked my hear with his big, gentle hands. I liked his
hands on me. They were reassuring and unbelievable sexy.

"You never had sex with a man?" I couldn't believe it. He laughed out loud.
"Of course I have. More than once. But that's what it was. Sex." He
shrugged, as if he expected me to never be able to understand him. And in a
way he was right. Having sex with another man was something completely
different from falling in love with another man. And I wasn't even a man

"Do you think you will have to stay with me till death do us part because
you have sex with me?" Of course I blushed. Not so much because of the
having sex words, but because of me saying till death do us part. "I am not
totally ignorant, Yohji. I know a lot of men have sex with other men without
any commitment. Or men with women." My voice became almost too thin and
childlike. "I know I will never be enough for you, but if you want you can
fuck me."
I just stayed in his arms, trembling and almost crying. I felt stupid and
yet more determined than ever before in my life. I had offered him the one
thing he was always hunting after: a warm, willing body. I knew he cared
enough about me to not hurt me on purpose. I knew he had enough experience
for the two of us. It had to be sufficient

He shook his head as in disbelieve. "What did you see? Aya and Ken. That
night. What did you see?" But he didn't wait for me to answer.
"That night wasn't their first time, Omi, not by far. If you want what they
have, you will have to wait."

"Do you want what they have?" Why do I ask these questions if I'm too scared
to hear an honest answer? Yohji isn't a cruel person, but he's also not the
marrying type. I was aware of the fact the he had spend a lot of time with
me without so much of hinting at a reward. But there were also his history,
his playboy manners. He could have bedded almost any pretty woman for the
price of a cheap meal or less. And yet he choose me, a skinny boy who looked
way too young for his age. A boy he didn't want to have sex with, because
sex was just something he did, an almost meaningless way of having fun, of
getting rid of excess stress of demonstrating his maleness. I saw it,
almost understood it and wished he cared for me just a little less.
"Do you want what Aya and Ken have, Yohji?"

"It is the strangest thing for me to want, and yet I want it. Maybe after
all those years all sexual encounters look the same. I mean, what can you do
in bed that hasn't already been done? Handcuffs? Whips? Doing it upside
down, from behind, from every possible or impossible angle? Take someone's
virginity? Threesomes? Orgies? I have done it all and more." He sounded
tired, depressed almost.

Of course he wasn't asking me those questions. I had his kisses and sweet
touches. I had my left hand. There wasn't much to be bored with for me yet

"The trouble is, you can experiment with kinky sex, but not with love." He
simply stated.

"If you are afraid that I will force you to be monogamous, or to give up
women, don't be. Because I won't." I said and I knew I sounded ridiculous. I
couldn't stop him from doing anything. Not from having sex with half of the
city. Not from being with me and nobody else.
He had lived in a world quite different from mine and there was no way I
could even begin to understand his fear. So I talked about monogamy and
giving up women. And didn't for the hell know what I was talking about.

"Love is a curse, Omittchi. Ask Aya about it. And you know what, we'd go
back again and again on our knees because love is the only curse, the only
blessing worth going back for." His hand stroked my back, not like he would
pet a child anymore. No slower, more deliberately, searching for places to
make me sigh with anticipation. He half turned me on his lap in order to
have some freedom of movement to open my trousers.

His hand on my erection, stroking in a almost lazy rhythm. The most simple
of movements. His left hand, not mine. A bit rough, firm. A man's hand. The
most strange thing that ever happened to me. It was, without a doubt, what I
needed. Within seconds I came.
Too soon, but how could I not? Even I could forgive myself for the lack of
control I had over my body.
He smiled, brought his hand to his mouth and licked it clean.

"Yohji, that's gross," I yelled while he savored my taste. He just licked
his fingers and grinned.

"You're very tasty, actually. Young, clean, healthy. I have a hunch the rest
of you tastes just as good. But first these cloths has to go."
Don't ask me why we turned our backs to each other while we undressed. We
simply did. And I turned again. And looked. He was so beautiful The long,
muscular, but not overly so, planes of his male body, his lightly toned
skin: it was awe-inspiring. Of course I saw his cock. His erection was, in
my almost childlike inexperience, quite intimidating. I had seen some
pictures on the internet, but that were pictures. Yohji was real. Suddenly I
wasn't so sure anymore if I really wanted this huge thing inside my body. I
had made my promise, and I would honor it, but oh sweet lord, this was going
to be painful.

"No one has ever taken me before, so you have to be careful." I pleaded.
Then, realizing I more or less had promised him not to make any conditions,
I continued: "You can do with me whatever you want. I love you."

"You are such a sweet, beautiful young man. And you are brave. So much
courage in such a frail body." Yohji touched me. No seductive or claiming
gestures, just touch.
Slowly I took one step towards him and it was all I needed to be in his arms
again. Being held by him fully clothed was one of the nicest things that
could happen to me. Being held by him naked was pure bliss. He was strong,
but not hard in a wrong way, large but without being intimidating. It was
without any fear or mistrust that I let him pick me up and take me to his
bed. I knew what was going to happen and I was ready for it.

Now, months later I can smile at my own assumptions. Oh yes, we were taking
a definite step that night. But it was a first step of many. We embarked on
a journey that would take us to many wondrous places. A journey for its own
sake, not as a way to get somewhere as soon as possible.

We knew the kind of danger we were in during our missions. Life was never
a sure thing. Death was right there, patiently lurking in the dark. More
often than not I believed some angel was watching over us. But still, we
were so humanly vulnerable.
Yet, Yohji treated me in bed like we had all the time of the world He could
have simply taken me that first night and I would have accepted the pain as
simply unavoidable. In fact I would have welcomed anything from him because
I believed suffering was a way of showing how much one human being can love
another. I didn't long for the pain, but I loved him enough to take the pain
with the pleasure. How little did I know my lover.

By masturbating me he had taken care of the most urgent part of my need.
For some reason his own erection didn't seem to bother him. He just accepted
it and ignored it. Of course, much later he confessed to me his hard-on
almost made him mad. But he wanted to concentrate on me, on my body,
on the lessons I had to learn. And while doing that, he forgot he himself
was less of a master than he perhaps thought he was. My dear, sweet

He treated me with the care that comes from unconditional love. He caressed
me like he hadn't the memory of dozens of lovers in his fingers. It was his
first time with me and he was as curious as I was. He acted and learned.
Touches and kisses: sometimes a soft whisper on my oversensitive skin,
sometimes hard enough to remind me of his ability to seriously hurt me. He
learned how to please his young lover. He was forceful when he claimed me as
his mate, but he didn't hurt me in any way or manner. And I knew all those
weeks of being courted by him, of being send to bed with my left hand as
companion had been the right decision from Yohji. If I could trusted my soul
with him, than surely my body.

"I was just as new at this as you was, Omi," He told me weeks later, while I
was in his arms, for a moment thinking of almost nothing. "I had plenty of
sexual partners of both gender. And a trans or two."
He made me giggle because of the matter of fact way he talked about his life
as a playboy. He didn't boast to me, that he reserved for others, he stated
the dry facts. And in my almost implausible innocence his words couldn't be
funnier. "I never knew if the person I was with that night would be there
the other day. So I was always in a hurry. Or to be honest, I knew damned
well this was just another one night stand. Every encounter the same.
Negotiating roles and acts, doing it, sleeping, taking a shower, bye, bye.
Just kissing was a luxury I simply couldn't afford. I made my investment and
I wanted to be paid in at least one orgasm." He scratched his hair. "Then
came a cold redhead and a clumsy ex-soccer player. And I saw it happening
right before my eyes. Stealthy looks, touches that were really just by
accident, a stolen kiss when no-one was looking. I saw the cold-one smile.
And one day, months after I first saw a spark fly between them, Kenken asked
me what kind of lube would be the best."

"You fell in love with me because Aya and Ken fell in love?"

"No I fell in love with you because you are you. But I saw the slow
progression of their relationship. I hardly ever had taken the time with my
female lovers and never with the males I bedded. 'Hello, nice to meet you.
Now drop your pants please and bent over.' Nothing wrong with that if you
are both two grown and willing adults."

"But you didn't want that anymore." I didn't ask a question, I merely stated
a fact. I tried to get a glimpse inside his head. Why he decided that weeks
and months of kissing and jacking himself off and frustration were to prefer
over going all the way as soon as he could manage.

"I can get a erection out of almost any pretty girl or handsome man. But I
couldn't care less if I would ever see them again after I'm done fucking
them." Yohji kissed me. "But we have all the time in the world, Omi-chan."

"But Yohji, we can't be sure we are to see our next birthday." The panicky
sound of my voice made him smile. And then, finally, understanding bubbled
inside of me. I could hardly call it a thought, because it really formed
inside my abdomen and reach out with little streams of warmth. If he just
lusted after me, he would have fucked me the moment he had found me more or
less willing. And I would have accepted it without a complaint. But as much
as he lusted after me, he loved me even more. And what was love if not a
blind trust in eternity? If I died, I would take this love with me. If he
died, I would have the memory of his love. And that would be enough, because
at the end of my life there would be just one question. And it would not be:
what did you do in bed?

Still, I wasn't complaining when his hand wickedly wrapped warm fingers
around my cock. And I certainly wasn't angry with him when his tongue teased
the almost hidden place were he had been less than an hour ago. No need for
elaborate preparations, so I simply turned and offered him my back . Nothing
more than a quick fuck before we went to sleep. We had work to do the next
morning, after all. And Aya, happily in love and all, would not be in the
best of moods if we were late for the third time this week.

He likes women, Yohji, he really does. He flirts and gives flowers and kills
any men who hurt his pretty ones. But his hands flutters to my face now and
again, his steals kisses from me and calls me his koi, even when he can't be
sure no-one is listening. And at night he let me sleep in the curve of his
body. Now and again there are days without sex. But there is never a day I
have to sleep without him.