Innocence
By Mura
Ohtori's brown eyes are burned into my mind's eye. So full of hurt and confusion; pleading, begging for a reason, or better yet for me to take everything back.
I couldn't. It's all for the best. And I never intended to stay with him anyway. I was using him, amusing myself by seducing someone like him. I never meant to fall.
But I won't let him fall with me.
"Why?" The question was so soft I almost didn't hear it.
"Why what?" I paused, glanced sideways at him, refusing to meet those pleading eyes.
"Why did you let me make..." he caught himself before finishing his phrase, took a deep breath before continuing. "Why did you sleep with me?"
"To see if I could."
He said nothing more after hearing my answer. I turned away completely, willing myself to ignore the sharp intake of his breath, and the jagged way that he exhaled, as if his throat had choked up.
Why indeed?
I answered truthfully, as far as why I did it originally. I seduced Ohtori because I was bored, and he was there. I seduced him because he blushed as our eyes met the first time we were paired as a doubles team, one afternoon during some random practice nearly a year ago. I seduced him because there is an air of innocence lingering about his smile and his eyes, and I wanted to see if it would still be there after we fucked. Or more precisely, I wanted to see if it would disappear as we were fucking.
As to why I continued to do it...
I really was not prepared for what actually happened, when Choutarou... when Ohtori and I fucked. Innocence and naivety aren't precisely the same things. I'd never been with anyone so honest, with someone who put so much of himself into sex. With someone who trusts so much to me... I could only assume it was because he didn't really know me. I could only surmise that it was his innocence that allowed him to open all of himself, instead of just his body.
Ohtori has never referred to what we do as "fucking". He has another name for it, a name I've never used. With him or anyone else.
"Go away, Ohtori. I'm not in the mood to fuck right now"
A soft laugh, fingers combing through my long hair, a strong arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me against his hard body. Whispered words in my ear...
"We won't. I don't want to fuck you... Shishido-san."
A thrill runs up my spine at the slight hesitation in his voice. I tangle my own fingers in his short, shaggy hair, pulling his head closer, until his lips are within reach of my own...
I continued to fuck Ohtori, or more precisely, to let Ohtori fuck me, because I had simply never experienced anything like it before. I'd had mind-blowing sex, but I'd never made...
I knew it was a mistake all along. I knew better than to risk getting attached to him. I should have kept him out. It would have been better for us both that way.
I've always been too self-indulgent.
It was too easy to lose myself in Ohtori. It's so easy to breath in his scent and brace myself against him, to open up and allow him to fill me completely. So easy to forget everything else with his cock inside me, with his body moving against mine. He fills my mind as well my body. Through mingled pain and pleasure, there is nothing but his name, inscribed in my brain, dancing over my tongue, escaping my lips in a flood of moans and screams. Choutarou Choutarou Choutarou... Until my world explodes and I'm swept away, about to drown in a sea whose existence I never knew until now, with his body as my only anchor. And finally, the shore I wash up on is the circle of his arms, and his whispers the first rays of sunlight on my face. For a moment I allow myself to stay there, in a island far from everything I know and everything I've been.
And I want to stay.
That is why I sleep with him. For that moment, for a wish that can only last one second at a time.
After that it's gone, and I'm myself again, and he's Ohtori again, a conquest, a toy, not Choutarou, not a silver-haired angel. After that I can use him. I can hurt him, as I did today.
He can't be more than a toy to me. No one can know that he's more even for a short while, as we lie together after sex, in a tangle of limbs and garments. No one can know... because I won't let him fall. Hurt him now, and maybe I can save him. If I push him away now...
I don't know why I feel the way I do when I'm with him. If I must be honest, I'd rather not put a name to it. It's easier to brush away while it's nameless. All I know is... /he/ can't see any hint of it, because he'd figure it out, even what I refuse to see. He'd figure it out, and he'd use the knowledge, he'd use... Choutarou...
I can't let that happen to you. I can't let you go through that. Live what I've lived. Know what I know.
It's so strange... I've gone from wanting to strip Choutarou of his innocence, to being willing to do anything to protect it.
That innocence drew me to him, even though I didn't understand why. I played with it like a child plays with the flame of a candle, too fascinated to care if I might burn the tips of my fingers. No matter how long I played, I couldn't put out his innocence. I realize now that it's the source of his strength. Choutarou's innocence isn't due to lack of experience, ignorance or childishness; but to something entirely different, more profound. Choutarou has faith in others. He kept his faith in /me/ despite all the crap I've put him through.
I'd rather see him hate me than put him in a position where that faith can be taken away from him. Because that would destroy him.
I wonder sometimes how much he knows. How much he's guessed. Do I want him to have guessed? I tell myself he can't have, at least not much. If he knew... he wouldn't look at me the way he does. And I don't want him to guess because I can deal with seeing heartbreak in his eyes, I can deal with anger, and probably with hate. But I couldn't bear to see disgust reflected in those soft brown eyes.
And then...
"Shishido-san..." His voice whispering my name...
...Maybe he already knows.
Not all, but enough to understand. Maybe he knows, and doesn't care. No matter how I've tried to push him away, he's still there.
"Shishido-san... please. Wait." No longer a whisper, his voice is gaining strength.
And I wonder... is it possible to find redemption in a pair of soft brown eyes?