#julesdrenages

Toudou doesn’t joke when he calls him mean every now and then, but Makishima is many things.

He’s a great cyclist, as he demonstrated during the Inter-High and, really, all through high-school, obliterating every obstacle on his road and shutting the large mouth of every person that critiqued his climbing technique in the only way that counted: winning all the races that he managed, without deviating ever once from his style.

He’s a good rival, one that always keeps you on your toes and pushes you to be better, because not only you don’t want to lose to him, you also don’t want to look bad in front of him. He’s the reason Toudou got so strong in the first place, because Makishima kept biting at his heels and challenging to break yet another record, because he was getting there himself. They’ve been at each other’s throat since the first race, but in a respectful way, which is not something most cyclists of their circuit can claim.

He’s a friend, cherished and irreplaceable: a rock Toudou has held on to every time he needed support, being it in the form of reassurance or sassy answers, or angry remarks. He doesn’t pretend that other people validate their dynamics, he’s just fine knowing they have one, that apparently works wonders for both of them. They have fun, together – and they trust each other. They’ve hung out together lots of times, after races or just because, visiting places and enjoying each other company. They’ve also spent many hours talking on the phone in hushed tones and under their respective covers, sharing secrets, fears and dreams.

He’s his significant other, which pretty much sums up all of the above and adds another layer to the relationship, which is the physical one. He likes Makishima’s white skin and moles, his lanky limbs, his untameable hair, his jutting bones. He loves his blue eyes and thin lips. He’s always liked to play the romantic and saying that the platonic side of a relationship necessarily trumps over the physical one, but now that he’s tasted the satisfaction that comes with sating the thirst that Makishima himself rekindled in him somewhen along their second year of high-school, Toudou isn’t so final about it anymore. He loves Makishima for many, many reasons – but he’s not sure he could cross the sexual side of their relationship out of the equation anymore. Luckily, they’re extremely compatible in this regard too.

The night they meet after dinner at the Tochigi Inter-High, Toudou is reminded about all the things that Makishima is: his technique is madder than he remembers, proof that Makishima has been training hard too, and he’s also managing to be a menace while riding a borrowed bike (same as Toudou, but Makishima has always needed a slightly different frame and is therefore more penalized by the exchange), which represents a feat in itself. His taunts and lopsided grins fuel Toudou just as much as his pace; they provoke each other with words and shameless, idiotic displays of skill that send thrills through their testosterone-driven bodies and pump them until they’re screaming each other’s names 50 metres from the top of the hill and there’s nothing on their minds except crossing that goddamn line before that asshole; they go up and down and they’re tied at every even turn, and it’s the most in shape and the most motivated Toudou has ever felt in a long time. They get to talk, even if Onoda is watching them, even if they’re short of breath and completely enraptured by their climbs, and it feels like home: he talks about university, the inn, the good cycling places he has visited with his new team over the year, Makishima tells him about school and projects, contest he’d like to participate in, his work within his brother’s brand, holidays –  all things they’re already addressed or talked or texted about, but it’s so much different (so much better) to hear them from Makishima himself, in his croaky voice, complete with wide gestures. They already have plans for later, but the initial idea was that they would have been alone during their races too, which is why Onoda’s presence kind of threw Toudou slightly off-balance: it’s not that he doesn’t like the kid, because he does, and as he promised to Makishima, he’s done a very good job of looking out for him in the past few months; he’s also partial to the way the kid looks up to Makishima, so much that he does indeed give them space and lets them have their own little reunion without a fuss – it’s touching, but it’s not exactly the scenario he was expecting: that involved jumping Makishima’s bones as soon as they could stop their bike and not letting him go until both of their lips got too swollen to even talk. For starters.

He’s pretty sure the feeling is mutual, because as they sit near the vending machine on top of the hill and Toudou makes a point of taking a step back and give Onoda some needed and well-deserved alone time with his mentor, Makishima flashes him a smile. It’s not their private smile, the one that in Toudou’s opinion can melt frozen hearts and make flowers bloom, but it’s not the eerie grin that makes children cry either. Onoda talks, and Makishima gives him his undivided attention, eyes soft and open – but every now and then he glances at Toudou and raises a brow at him, to which Toudou answers in kind. It’s a silent conversation that Makishima ends pulling up the left corner of his lips in a grin that threatens to break the moment Toudou beams back (he just can’t control himself), a laugh bubbling up from Makishima’s chest and making his thin smile tremble. Toudou hears the I LOVE YOU so loud and clear that Makishima could have just shouted it. He hopes to have been just as explicit, so far.

Perhaps he has, because the moment they reunite after having sent Glasses to sleep Makishima does indeed forego any bike or small talk and pushes him against a wall, arms around his shoulders and legs finding their way in between his – it’s urgent and somehow ferocious, but Toudou can relate to the desperate transport with which Makishima clings to him, so he finds the whole exchange intense and, if you want to push it, dramatic, more than aggressive.

Makishima cups his face and kisses his jaw, Toudou finds it hard to let go of his hair, especially when Makishima nips at his bottom lip and pants into his mouth.

- I’d do it right here, but this is Japan and you get to call the shots.

Toudou sucks on his tongue, brain whirring in the effort of finding a reasonable solution.

- No public sex. Glasses’s home but I can’t say the same for some of my rookies.

 - They’re not your rookies anymore.

- Bullshit, I have a reputation to maintain.

They kiss long and hard, to the point that Toudou feels like a drowning man.

- Sneak me into your room, Jinpachi.

He hums.

- The only mattress I’ve been able to find is in a hole of a room crammed in between the ones reserved for the school. What about yours?

- What about me?

- You haven’t booked a room?

- Why should I have? I’ve got you.

Infuriating, impossible, irresistible Makishima.

- You’ll have to be very quiet, then, because I won’t be responsible for disrupting the sleeping schedule of my former team and jeopardize their chances at victory.

- I bet I could give you and orgasm without anyone noticing.

Toudou sneaks an arm around his waist and presses their bodies flush, chuckling against Makishima’s lips.

If someone, back in the days, had asked ten-year-old Toudou how he would have imagined his marriage, he would have told them about a beautiful bride in a pristine white kimono, a private ceremony with all the closest family members at the shrine behind the inn and a big yet classy party at Toudou-an, afterwards, open to all their friends. By the time he was out of middle school, he would have admitted that a Western like ceremony could have done too, if his wife preferred to wear a fancy dress instead.

If the same person had asked Makishima, either at ten or fourteen years old, how he would have imagined his marriage, Makishima would have stuttered and turned bright red and tried to hide behind his too short fringe (that he was considering growing out exactly for such purpose). He wouldn’t have answered – out of shyness on the surface, but also because he really had no idea. Marriage (as in, with a girl!?) was not something he thought about. Marriage was not something that belonged to him.

A symbolic piece of paper released by an English speaker celebrant in a private venue in Montmartre was something neither of them had ever taken into account, but there they were anyway: looking at the freshly bought matching rings on their linked fingers, with a wedding certificate that held no legal value pretty much anywhere, but was the only validation they needed.

*

- I can’t believe we’ve done it.

- Well, technically-

- Technically nothing changed. But, I mean, everything changed, didn’t it?

Makishima turns to face his boyfriend, no, husband, not really knowing what to say. It’s the same Toudou that smiles at him, dimples on his cheeks, and it’s the same Toudou that looks at him with those lively indigo eyes that never lose their spark – it’s the same Toudou he’s known since their first year of high-school, same Toudou that he’s stuck to for the following ten plus years, same Toudou whom he proposed to on the spot last night, in front of the most romantic scenery they’d ever enjoyed together. And yet there’s something different about him, a shift in his posture maybe, an added weight on his left hand that catalyses the attention or a more mature aura, something in the way he carries himself. His colours are richer, his overall presence more tangible. There’s an answer, to Toudou’s question; more than one actually, but although he’s getting better with age, Makishima has never been a man of words – and he still struggles with them. So much, in fact, that the previous night, when he got overwhelmed by the perfect scenery and by the joy of having Toudou close after so long, he found it too challenging to admit how much he loved Toudou, how glad he was they could stay together for a while; how happy their plans and talks about their (joined) future made him; how lucky he felt every day, especially when they got to be close; how he didn’t wish for anything else anymore, since they’d committed to each other for real. So, he’d just leaned in for a kiss and, right after that, had whispered into Toudou’s ear: “Let’s get married, Jinpachi”. Toudou had stared at him with wide eyes and no words (Makishima didn’t blame him) for a long time, the one he needed to read Makishima’s face and hear the words he’d never spoken out loud, because that’s what Toudou did, ultimately, wasn’t it? He understands, even when Makishima himself doesn’t. After a long minute of soundless attempt at speaking, Touodu had flung himself at Makishima, and as his tears wetted the latter’s shirt, before he even gave his answer, Toudou had punched Makishima in the shoulder and choked on frustrated and emotional words: “You’re just so, so stupid!”

Now, much like last night, Makishima hugs Toudou and holds him close, mindless of passers-by or fellow couples who more or less officially just got married, just like them.

- Yes. Yes, it did.

*

It takes some time for the hype to go down, although they never really stop feeling exhilarated – and Toudou has the sensation it will last for a few days still. When they’re done being affectionate in public, as much as he’d like to keep it up, he checks the hour on his phone and pulls Makishima away from the chapel in the park, walking with a resolute step. His freshly appointed husband notices the hurry and asks what’s going on. Toudou stops and turns, looking hopelessly beautiful and wearing a sly grin that trembles every time that laughter bubbles on his lips.

- Since you’ve taken the liberty of organizing our impromptu marriage, rings included, I took the liberty of organizing our impromptu honeymoon. Come, we have two really full days ahead of us!

He navigates the streets effortlessly, as if this wasn’t the very first time he set foot in Paris, but Makishima doesn’t feel worried. Just surprised, and very much intrigued.

- W-When did you…?

- Last night.

He remembers the previous night vividly (and will do so for a long time): as expected from every couple that just got engaged and was looking forward to getting married the following day, they had kept themselves entertained for a considerable portion of the night and, as far as Makishima was concerned, they had spent the rest of it passed out on the side of the bed that still allowed it. Toudou sees his confused face and kisses the frown away.

- Fortunately, I don’t share your tendency to get so thoroughly knocked out by orgasms.

Makishima pouts, almost feeling cheated, but they both know it’s an act. Toudou grins at him:

- I have to even the score, Yuu. Come on, let me swipe you off your feet!

They stop in front of a famous bakery. Toudou walks in as if he owns the place, tugging Makishima along.

- First, the wedding banquet.

*

They play tourist spot after spot, taking advantage, when the circumstances allow them, of their status of newlyweds. Like at dinner, when the waitress offers them dessert with the congratulations of the staff. Back at their hotel, Makishima calls the elevator as Toudou retrieves their room key, but when it’s time to select the floor, Toudou stops him and pushes a button that is way higher on the keyboard.

- What?

- I took the liberty of requesting another room. One that I deem more appropriate for the occasion.

- It’s just one nigh-

- This one has a round tub big enough for two.

Makishima jumps him between the fifth and the sixth floor.

*

- What James Bond device did you put on these rings, Yuu?

Makishima look at him from over his shoulder.

- Why?

- Because I can’t keep my eyes away.

Spooned on the softest mattress they’ve ever laid on, it’s only natural that their gazes would focus on their linked hands, that they’re holding in front of Makishima’s chest.

- Might have miscalculated something, though, ‘cause I’m totally mesmerized myself.

Toudou breathes in into his hair in a familiar gesture of intimacy, then trails kisses down his neck. Makishima purrs and disentangles his fingers to caress Toudou’s face. He wonders if touchiness is a side-effect of marriage – the whole long-distance thing already puts them above average in terms of physical contact, but this is almost too much even for them. From an outsider perspective, of course, because it doesn’t feel that way to him; like, at all.

- Thank you, Yuu.

- For what?

- For the most romantic dream I could hope for? I mean, eloping in Paris? It puts to shame every single one of my sister’s shoujo-mangas.

- You moulded your romantic dreams around shoujo-mangas?

- You moulded half of your kinks around gravure.

Makishima burrows further under the covers and into Toudou’s embrace.

- I merely suggested the chapel. The rose petals in the tub and bed were all you.

He yawns, Toudou following soon.

- It’s been a long day.

- Yeah, and there’s another one ahead.

Before they go back to London, before they go back to their lives. Makishima rolls over and kisses his chest. It tickles a little and Toudou chuckles, before adding.

- I apologize in advance for every wobble in the schedule: I’ve organized most of it today during your bathroom breaks.

- I’m sure it will be fun and that I’ll love every minute.

- I hope so, though… I don’t think it’ll beat today.

Makishima brings his arms around him and presses their bodies flush against each other, sighing.

- Today doesn’t count.

Toudou looks down at him and traces the faint lines starting to appear at the corner of his eyes. No, it doesn’t count: even if they’d spent the whole day on a bench at the park, it would have still be impossible to top the day you proclaimed to the world that you were going to love and cherish only the one person in front of you for the rest of your life, and the mere thought of it made you unbelievably happy. Toudou wonders if there’s ever been a time, since they met, in which he didn’t love this lanky man he’s already spent half of his life with. It sounds improbable.

He feels Makishima snoring softly onto his breastbone and settles down himself with a soft smile. He drifts off thinking about the previous night.

*

In the aftermath of a climax that left him disoriented and pretty much drained, Toudou stays slumped over his lover, not wanting to let go (not that he could, with Makishima still holding onto his shoulder blades as he, too, comes down from the high) and waits for his head to clear. It takes a while, but he gets there.

- Yuu?

- Y-Yeah.

- I’m going to ask a question, but you have to assure me that you’re not going to take it the wrong way, because everything I said, demonstrated and shouted in the past few hours still stands perfectly. Do we have a deal.

- You ask, I don’t sulk. Got it.

Toudou kisses his reddened and swollen lips. He wonders if they’ll find enough resolve to go at it once more before calling it a day. Given the circumstances, he’s ready to make the effort.

- Why marriage?

Makishima looks up at him with a slight frown.

- I said yes and I can’t think about tomorrow without crying like a baby, so no second thoughts whatsoever. But… you never stroke me as the type?

Makishima brings up his hands to cup his face and kiss him again.

- I’m not. But… I thought it was fitting. For us. That it suited us.

Toudou looks at him questioningly and Makishima smiles shyly, looking away.

- Marriage vows are… promises, aren’t they? Said out loud and in front of witnesses, but still… promises, at their core, aren’t they?

He makes the effort of staring at Toudou straight in the eyes.

- We’re good at promises. We might not be so good at proper marriages, with our lifestyles and everything but… we’re good at promises, aren’t we? It should count for something.

His voice breaks and Toudou eases him out of the impasse by claiming his mouth gently, and making it clear that no, they’re definitely not done for the night yet. Makishima makes a desperate, pleading sound out of exhaustion, but he still spreads his legs wider to accommodate his lover.

- Efi, come here: it’s dangerous near the river, stay close to me.

Efi, his Espeon, stopped and batted his long ears before turning around and hopping at his side. Toudou reached down to scratch his head and received a playful nip in response. The heavy rains of the previous weeks had filled the river and destabilized that side of the mountain, famous for its frequent slides, therefore every deviation from the main path could end in trouble – Efi was a curious Pokemon that could fend for himself, but a trainer could never be too cautious.

The road to Makishima’s cottage was tortuous indeed: as expected from the residence of the Peak Spider, the small house in the woods had been built in a secluded clearing at the very top of the mountain, and the proximity to a small waterfall, several caves and the forest made it the perfect environment for Makishima’s activities.

Toudou adjusted the backpack he was carrying to ease the tension on his shoulders and noticed movements near the signpost that indicated the deviation he had to take. A brown Eevee rolled out of a bush and shook its tiny head: it was smaller than average and only had three legs, but it looked lively, and it wore a patterned purple handkerchief around its neck that, along with its disability, made Toudou recognize it instantly. Even if he hadn’t, its owner came into view a few seconds later.

- Kotori, don’t run away, we’ll be late!

Makishima’s assistant, a scrawny kid with round glasses that were too big for his face almost tripped over his own feet as he caught up to his Pokemon while trying to balance the few chests and boxes that he evidently had to carry uphill. Toudou let his presence known and the boy squeaked in surprise.

- Ehi there, Glasses!

- Gwah! T-T-Toudou-san?! I didn’t notice you! I’m sorry!

Kotori, his Eevee, trotted happily towards Efi, who sniffed her neck disdainfully and allowed her to play between his long legs and with his forked tail out of sheer patience for overexcited pups.

- Are you going to climb your way up to Maki-chan’s?

- Y-Yes! I ran some errands for him. We’re getting ready for the spring’s hatches!

- I’m going there myself, let’s walk together, shall we? I can help you carry the heavy stuff.

- T-Toudou-san! I can’t accept!

Toudou waved off his concerns and selected a Pokeball from his belt. An ancient looking and abnormally large Alakazam materialized in front of them. Sakamichi shrieked first, then stared in awe as Toudou greeted the creature and asked it a favour.

- Baba, would you please help us carry some of that luggage up to Maki-chan’s cottage? Efi can do his share of the work too.

The old Alakazam closed her eyes in agreement and all of their possessions, Efi and Kotori included, glowed red before being lifted off the ground and floating near Alakazam, who headed for the mountain path herself and started climbing it without batting an eye. Sakamichi couldn’t believe his eyes, Toudou scratched his head apologetically.

- Baba likes to show off…

*

Spring became the clearing. During winter it took a haunted appearance, but in spring and summer nature exploded all around Makishima’s house and property, and it was a glorious triumph of green grass and coloured flowers. Kotori moved her legs in mid-air in excitement, already striving for a run, and Efi too had perked up at the change of scenery. Toudou’s legs hurt after the hard climb, but he had to admit the view was worth all the effort, and he signalled for Baba to let go of the cargo, with many thanks. The old Alakazam did as she was told and then proceeded to enjoy the scented air of the clearing and walked towards the water to find refreshment. Toudou let her go without a word: she was familiar with the place.

Sakamichi laughed as he gathered the boxes Baba had laid on the ground and watched Kotori sprint after butterflies and stumble on lumps with her uneven legs. Toudou remembered Makishima telling him the story of that unfortunate pup, that he’d nursed back to health after Sakamichi, who had found her mangled and almost dead, had begged him to try and save her. He couldn’t do anything for her hind leg, though, but she’d got so used to her new asset that she didn’t move like a crippled creature at all. Efi watched over her from above a rock, aloof and imperturbable as usual but, uncharacteristically, a little distracted. In fact, thanks to Kotori’s activities and the many shades of green in the grass, he didn’t notice his twin, shiny brother approaching and pouncing on him. The playful, iridescent green Espeon tackled Efi to the ground and the two engaged in a familiar game of catch and fight that put a smile on Toudou’s face. Because if Uri was there, his owner could only be very close.

Makishima, hearing the commotion, came out of the house to greet Sakamichi and got startled at the sight of Toudou, but the surprise lasted only a few seconds and he welcomed his approaching boyfriend with open arms. Almost open arms.

- Why you never tell me when you’re coming?!

- Because I like to surprise you! I’m home, Maki-chan!!!

This wasn’t his actual home in the slightest, but he liked to play that game every time they met, and Makishima found it easier to just indulge him.

- Welcome home, Jinpachi.

*

Makishima wasn’t known as the Peak Spider only because of the peculiar location he’d picked as a home, but also because of his just as peculiar interest in Bug-type Pokemons. His passion had, with time, extended to all those creatures that, for the characteristics of their species or some mean joke from Mother Nature, had not been graced with pretty looks and had therefore suffered the cruel consequences of being unwanted from their trainers or former owners. Makishima gave shelter to abandoned Pokemon and rehabilitated problematic ones, farmed unknown eggs and took care of the off-springs – all the while surrounding himself of as many loud-looking and scary creatures he could. The latest addition to his ever-growing family was a brightly coloured Spinarak that he’d named Josephine and that nestled into his hair. It made kissing him a whole new experience, although Toudou had got used to her, going so far as to play with her on Makishima’s wooden table as the latter put together a tray of biscuits to go with the freshly brewed tea. Looking out of the open window, Toudou could see his Pokemons having some well-deserved rest and fun in an environment that seemed designed for them. Sakamichi was brushing knots out of NInetail’s fur after the latter had tired himself with a wild run around the clearing; Gardevoir was entertaining herself with a few Cutiflies and Combees, and the occasional Sewaddle; Altaria, plumage cleansed, was basking in the sun and singing sweet notes for everyone to enjoy, while Primarina accompanied him with melodies of her own and dancing balloons that Mawile chased with her huge jaws. Baba had retired under the shadow of a tree to meditate.

A cup of tea appeared in front of him.

- So, how were the challengers, this year?

- Not much of a challenge, to be honest. But I’ve seen some good kids, I think Fuku has talked to them, after the matches. None of them managed to pass me or Arakita, though.

- Has Shinkai..?

Toudou shook his head.

- No. Izumida is taking over his role as the member of the Elite Four specialized in Fighting-type Pokemons. Maybe it’s for the best, I don’t know. It makes me mad, though: he’s the strongest trainer out there! I’ve seen what he manages to do with Fighting-types, it’s so frustrating to see him boycotting himself like this!

- Perhaps he just needs some time.

Toudou smiled sadly at him.

- He has built an activity much like yours, you know? He shelters unlucky Pokemons too. The Bunearys ratio in his structure is, predictably, way higher than average, but he insists it’s a coincidence. He’s good at what he does, he’s a very thorough caretaker.

- Well, I hope he’ll claim back his title someday.

- Of course. We need another reasonable one in the Elite: I can’t be the only pad between those poor thing that come challenging us and Fuku. Or Arakita.

- How are his Poochyenas?

- Well. And I hate you for the Houndour you gifted him. It’s a Houndoom now, it’s the spawn of the devil and Arakita has started breeding them too, now.

- Fukutomi’s dragons?

- All in perfect shape and impeccably trained under every point of view. Oh, he’d like to place an order for those tonics you gave me last time. Dragonite really benefitted from them, Fuku would like to implement them on his Dragons’ diet. Maybe extend it to the family activity.

- We will have to increase the production, then: perhaps he’d better talk to Kinjou, he’s the one who has the latest numbers in terms of returns and profits, he should be able to make an accurate quotation.

- Kinjou? The one who studies snakes?

- The very same.

It’s only after they finished their tea that Toudou slammed a fist on the table.

- I really don’t understand you!

Makishima expected it but the sudden gesture still startled him.

- Please, Jinpachi, don’t start this again.

- I can’t! It drives me insane! You and your friends are easily the strongest trainers in Sohoku! Why won’t you join the League?

- Bite me.

- I’m serious!

Makishima rolled his eyes, much like every time they had this discussion.

- Because we’re happy like this, and because Sohoku is not Hakone: your region has a big history of first-class trainers and competitive breeders, your whole economy revolves around Pokemon battles… ours doesn’t. We’re farmers, researchers, developers, healers – and we usually send our best ones to work in your gyms and labs. Kinjou came back, but he is an exception.  

- I’ve battled against you, you kicked my ass just as many times as I kicked yours! There is no one in the whole League who can flaunt such a result! And I know for a fact that your friend with the Ursaring ranch, the one who also has a passion for Rock types, is so strong he gave Shinkai a run for his money, back in the days. And don’t even get me started on Kinjou and his Steel types!

Makishima didn’t say anything.

- Don’t tell me you don’t miss the thrill of the battles, Maki-chan, of our battles, because I don’t believe you.

Makishima sighed and it took him some long moments to get a grip on himself. Josephine crawled out of his hair to rest on his forearm and wave her thick legs towards his face. At long last, he petted her plump back.

- It’s hard to get back on our feet, alright? After everything that happened with the previous gym system, all the corruption, and what that organization did to Kanzaki… you can barely talk about training Pokemon, nowadays. We’re all happy to provide for you and gravitate around your activities, but it takes a lot of work and a lot of courage to be open about your dreams if you want to be a trainer.

Toudou noticed a spark in his eyes and couldn’t help himself.

- …but you’re trying, aren’t you? You, and your bear friend, and Kinjou – and Kanzaki… you’re re-building Sohoku from scrap, aren’t you?!

Makishima didn’t say anything, but the eerie smirk he wore proudly on his face told everything Toudou needed to know.

- Maki-chan!

He latched onto him and kissed him thoroughly, only letting go when it was time to breathe. Makishima pressed a finger to his lips.

- Don’t tell anyone, though. The authorities are really giving us a hard time, we have to keep it a secret until we’re ready to fight off anyone that comes for us, challengers or institutions alike.

Toudou took his face with his hands.

- That’s my Maki-chan, leading a resistance and breaking through obstacles higher than mountains in the name of our promise.

*

They had been little more than kids and had met on a clearing much like the one Makishima lived in now, at the border between Sohoku and Hakone, looking for Pokemons. They had fought for their right to be there before the other and found the two twin Eevees in an abandoned nest, their mother most likely killed by predators. No matter the rarity of a shiny one, Toudou had instantly picked up the other, sturdy and beautiful, while Makishima had opened his arms to the unusually coloured one.

When they had met again, years later, both their Eevees had evolved into Espeons.

- It’s fate, Maki-chan! It means our destinies are tied!

Before the scandals tore Sohoku to the ground, they had made a habit of battling in what they considered mountains, tied the score every time, and shared dreams while looking at the clouds, Efi and Uri curled up together at their feet.

- Next year I’m enrolling into Hakone Gakuen! It’s the best academy for trainers! And then I’ll become one of the Four Kings, you just see, Maki-chan!

- K’ha! Guess I’ll have to become an Elite trainer myself, here at Sohoku, then: someone has to push you down of your pedestal every now and then!

- So mean, Maki-chan!

Somewhere during those years, they had also learned to differentiate between friendship, rivalry and love. And they’d spent a lot of time exploring that last concept.

*

Makishima glowed red and looked elsewhere, but he let Toudou hug him.

- So… is that Sakamichi your trump card?

Makishima bit his neck.

- You won’t have a word from me. Besides, I know you’re training a young boy too, one who has a team of Flying types.

- You sneaky spider.

Makishima took his face in his hands and pressed their lips together.

Of all the things Toudou, in his early teen years,  imagined he would have done once grown up, ‘having sex in the hot springs of his family’s inn’ definitely didn’t make the wish-list (even though it held a very high position in his peers’). And yet here he is, naked as the day he was born in the water and jostling around an equally unclothed and definitely randy boyfriend who decided he couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer tonight. And truth to be told, it is indeed quite hard to resist the call of the flesh when your very missed, very attractive, very touch-starved lover corners you in a pool of naturally hot and mineral rich water. Surrounded by impeccable architecture and an evocative scenery. After closing hours, when the only people who can enter the baths are the staff members, and therefore there is virtually no risk of being interrupted. Giving you the sultry look he has mastered overseas and that is an undefeatable combo between puppy eyes (already super-effective given Makishima’s blue orbs) and bedroom ones: it’s a look that promises the best of both worlds and weaker people than Jinpachi Toudou would crumble under it. And on top of it, Makishima, at Toudou’s initial (and very weak) protest, chose to deliver the killing blow and crawled closer, bringing his hands at Toudou’s neck and kissing his way to Toudou’s ear to mewl in it:

- Please, I’m really horny.

Toudou never really had a choice, now, did he?

*

- My grandma is going to kill me.

- You are not talking about your grandma while I have your dick in hand, Jinpachi.

Toudou hisses as the fingers working him under the surface curl tighter around his shaft and he tries to answer in kind, but his own hand falters.

- You’d do the same if your grandmother was the kind of woman who didn’t trust anybody to clean up to her standards and therefore barged in every room of the inn unannounced to redo the floors. Hot springs and baths after closing hours are her domain. We’re in danger.

Makishima huffs into his mouth and presses closer, spreading his knees wider apart to adjust himself on Toudou’s lap as the latter sits with his back resting on the rocks at the edges of the pool. Toudou knows it must feel very uncomfortable, but Makishima doesn’t seem to notice.

- She winked at me as we passed her on the hallway: she knows what we’re up to and gave us her blessing.

Toudou find it hard to believe that his octogenarian grandmother could be capable of the distasteful display of decadence that ‘winking’ represents for folks her age, especially when using it means endorsing a practice she should abhor. But Grandma Toudou is also the member of the clan who fell in love with Makishima faster (Toudou himself excluded), the one who asks Toudou about his boyfriend’s whereabouts most often and the one who adores Makishima’s hair and choice of clothes so much to ask Toudou to act as an intermediary and order Makishima scarves (and, one faithful summer, a cardigan) from his personal catalogue. Toudou’s guess is that she’s gone colour-blind over the years and Makishima’s patterns are the only ones where she can make out the difference between nuances, since they clash so much: the possibility of a close relative of his genuinely liking that style is honestly too scary to consider.

 He tears a moan out of Makishima’s mouth and worries over both the sound and their current position.

- Climb down, Maki-chan, let’s go over there.

- Please Jinpachi don’t make me move right now.

- There’s deeper water and a bigger rock we can hide behind. Plus, it’s farther from the door.

He gets up, not hiding the fact that it makes him very uncomfortable too, to do so, and he unsaddles Makishima, who sighs in frustration.

- Ugh, fine!

*

The ground does indeed go down a few centimetres in that area, probably also thanks to the little waterfall that keeps the water flowing: they’re able to stand with the water reaching their belly-button, and a few bushes hide them even more than the already shielding composition of rocks Toudou mentioned. Makishima hums in satisfaction as he grabs Toudou’s shoulders and floats closer.

- Strategical.

Toudou reciprocates the kiss and lets his hands wander over his boyfriend’s skin which much more freedom and resolve that the fear of being discovered allowed him earlier. Makishima appreciates.

- …makes me want to climb you, like a tree.

Toudou groans, and not only in pleasure.

- Please, refrain. The water is not deep enough for me to keep you up and you’ll drown me.

-Are you saying I’m fat?

Toudou pulls back enough to see Makishima watching him with a sly and very much impish smile on his face, and pounces. They hit the water with a splash and squawk.

A few minutes and a little, playful banter later, they’re back in the mood and ready to decide how they want to proceed. Makishima clenches around Toudou’s fingers inside him, and the sensation makes it a bit hard to think straight.

- D-Do you want in?

Toudou kisses his neck. The invitation is whetting, and it shows, but he doesn’t want to overdo it.

- How about all our other options? Anything that tickles your fancy?

Makishima grabs his butt and palms the firm muscles underneath, Toudou grunts into his mouth.

- We can do each other by hand either here or behind the waterfall, or… I could try and blow you underwater, but you don’t like the idea…

Makishima pouts exaggeratedly and Toudou curls his fingers while giving their cocks a tug, making him moan.

- It’s not that I don’t like the concept, I’m merely saying that seeing you either blowing bubbles or choking yourself while trying to give me head kills the mood a little. You’d agree if you allowed me to demonstrate.

- As if you’d accept to make a fool of yourself to try and prove a point.

- Private bath in the west wing, after the current customers check-out. The pool in Room C has the perfect depth.

Makishima latches onto him, thrusting into their linked hands and prompted by the fingers working him open.

- Let’s go back to actual business, Jinpachi: I-ah, I swear I wouldn’t mind being fucked in the water, for once.

- I can sit by the edge again, but I fear it’s going to be too much work for you, if you straddle me.

Makishima scans their surroundings with eyes fogged by desire. Luckily, they land on the perfect target.

- What if I bend over one of those smooth rocks.

The growing hardness in his palm is a better answer than the throaty groan over his ear.

*

Half an hour later, they’re walking back to their shared room holding each other’s hands and sporting matching, sated expressions that turn mischievous every time they lean in to steal an innocent kiss or two. Makishima got to cross another fulfilled desire out of his ever-growing ‘to do’ list. Toudou chastises his younger self for missing out on a lot of wishes, considers updating his own list and also makes a mental note to brag about this specific experience as soon as he has the appropriate occasion to.

As expected, they cross Grandma Toudou on the way, curved around a broom and muttering through clenched teeth against incompetent youngsters who can’t swipe properly. They bid her goodnight politely, although it probably comes out a little too enthusiastic, and Toudou braces himself for the scolding that he’s sure is going to follow.

But Grandma Toudou limits herself to critically look them up and down twice, then she grunts and wishes the two of them (but more to Makishima) a goodnight too.

The package that Makishima is holding hits the doorframe with a thud and Toudou hisses.

- Quiet! They can hear us!

- They could hear us just fine even an hour ago, but I didn’t see you getting so worked up and worried over that, earlier.

- That’s a lie and you know it!

- I had to press a pillow into your face to muffle the noise.

- It was just. One. Time. Besides, this is different: I would have never wanted to get interrupted by either of our toddlers, but them hearing us during this? It’s going to ruin their Christmas, and I cannot allow it.

Makishima regards him with high eyebrows and a newly found respect.

- Neither can I. Which is why I was trying to be as silent as possible. But evidently I was not silent enough.

- Let me help. They called me Sleeping Beauty in high-school because I could move in perfect silence, especially while dealing with bicycles.

- I asked Arakita and he said they all called you Forest Ninja behind your back.

Toudou loses his composure.

- That’s so lame and absolutely not true!

- Shut up!!! They will hear us!

Toudou slaps his hand over his mouth and lets Makishima take the lead.

It’s Christmas night, Makishima invited Toudou and his child over to celebrate the holiday the Western way and right now they’re leaving tiny, wrapped-up bikes (complete with helmets and training wheels) under the tree for Sakamichi and Sangaku to find, come morning.

They’re also easing their way into a relationship that looks more and more promising as days go by. It’s not the first night they spend together, but it’s the first time they do it with the kids in the house. Said kids are currently sleeping in Sakamichi’s bed (large enough for the two of them), although not out of their own volition: they’ve tried to stay up late to meet Santa, offer him warm milk and biscuits and ask him how he manages to bring presents to all the good children of the world in one night, but sleep won them over a little before 11pm. The parents tucked them in and were planning on setting up the morning scene before retiring into the privacy of Makishima’s bedroom themselves, but someone had to drink the milk and eat the cookies, and the couch was very comfortable, and they had not indulged in some little display of affection for the whole day – so one thing led to another and it wasn’t until late into the night that they got up and retrieved the presents.

The bikes were Toudou’s idea, one that Makishima agreed with wholeheartedly: there were biking circuits at the parks they attended and paths easily accessible in the mountains that the boys would have loved to ride. Engaging in some kind of sport would have done both Sakamichi and Sangaku good, and they had been talking endlessly about bikes since the time they had crossed a bunch of cyclist during their last trip to Hakone. Their enthusiasm for the sport had skyrocketed when they had learned that both their parents were well versed in the art of road racing, and held a special interest in climbing hills. That bit of information had been a pleasant surprise for the adults too, one that had kept them up over a beer or three in Toudou’s apartment one evening when Tadokoro’s sons had invited Sakamichi and Shunsuke for a sleepover and Sangaku was spending the night with Toudou’s sister. They had attested, on that occasion, that both of them indeed sported the leg muscles of people who cycled regularly.

When the bikes are safely nestled under the lower branches of the tree, partially hidden by the garlands and shiny baubles that he and Sakamichi picked together last year to celebrate their first Christmas as a family (but still very much visible for the attentive eyes of over-excited children who are looking for presents), Makishima stands up and offers his hand to Toudou, leading him into his bedroom. He closes the door without making a sound, and gasps softly (more out of pleasure than of surprise) at the warm body suddenly pressed against his back. He trails his fingers over the toned arms loosely draped around his waist and leans back until he only has to turn his head to press his lips on Toudou’s cheek and jaw, making him shiver.

- Hello.

Toudou finds his lips again and Makishima turns into his arms to kiss him in a more comfortable position. It passed virtually no time since they snogged each other on the couch, but the privacy of a bedroom awakens even the most dormant libido and it’s not long since both of them feel the need of make things horizontal and take them onto a mattress. It’s new, this kind of longing: though a late bloomer, Makishima has always been familiar with sexual urges and the craving of an intimate touch, but while in his early twenties, also thanks to an alternate lifestyle and work environment, he’d given in to all of them and indulged in lots of sex, casual and not, now it’s different.  He’s not changed in the sense that he’s lost interest in sex, but he’d had other priorities, lately, and found another kind of balance that was too precious to disrupt with flings and too demanding to leave him time for a relationship. But Toudou fitted in that balance because he had stemmed from it, falling into Makishima’s lap when he least expected it, when he’d given up on this side of his life – maybe not for good, but certainly for the time being. Toudou makes his stomach clench and his hands itch, he awakens latent cravings and sates them with an expert touch and no rush. Being with Toudou is comfortable in the way relationships while being a single gay parent never are. Their schedules don’t always match, but they do very often. They both understand when the other has to call off their planned date because his child has an upset stomach, or because the day was just too long. They don’t roll their eyes when the other ends up talking about his kid for most of the time, because they know what it feels like, needing to vent, needing a friendly ear, needing someone that knows what it’s like. Being with Toudou when it’s just the two of them behind closed doors, toddlers safely forgotten for a couple of hours, is satisfying in all the ways that count – fulfilling, even when their evenings don’t end in an orgasm. They haven’t been able to really sleep together many times, so far: there are just so many nights off a single parent can take, but Makishima doesn’t feel sappy to admit they’ve been magical. And magical is this one too, and not only because it’s Christmas.

Makishima tugs him down on the bed and kisses back, soft and pliant, and Toudou rediscovers what it means caring for someone that is not his son. Because Makishima, in a totally different way from Sangaku, rekindles his instinct to protect and care for someone else. For an adult, for an equal, for an independent human being that doesn’t really need a shelter, but you want to provide for anyway – because everyone needs a little pampering every now and then and, above all, because it makes you happy. And it makes Toudou happy indeed, to be wanted like this, to be craved for the man he is. Makishima’s hands on his body are a blessed reminder that he’s still made of flesh and blood, and that he has yet to stop giving on such department. The time they spend together with or without their sons, the laughs they share, the intimacy – he feels like a perpetually starving man whom only these things can sate. Makishima quenches his thirst and eases his mind, holds him up when he feels wobbly and shows him some colour when he feels blue. Makishima reminds him every day that being a single parent doesn’t mean being single in every sense of the word, not to mention alone. Makishima sends sparks through his body and milks it dry like it’s the most natural thing in the world, and it probably is, now that he thinks about it. And it can be even if they both are responsible for two young children with a troubled history. He sleeps better, when he does so with Makishima. He wakes up much more rested, after passing an evening or a couple of hours alone together – and it’s such an addicting sensation that he’s not ashamed to admit he’s been doing everything in his powers to keep feeling it. To make sure nights like this one can be more than a sweet exception.

They didn’t go all the way back in the living room: too risky, and maybe too soon, but they can now – and although they take their sweet time, it almost feels like release comes too soon. It always does, in their opinion. And tonight, more than ever, when they lay back after tidying themselves up (at least one positive thing about having toddlers around is that you’re never out of tissues or wet wipes), half-clothed and drowsy, they feel the bulky and quite cumbersome presence of the elephant in the room. Toudou addresses it and his doubts, but he knows he’s speaking for both of them and maybe, just maybe, he hopes that the night, on virtue of being Christmas and, therefore, holding a magic of its own, will bring the best answers.

- What do we do, now?

Makishima curls up on his left side to mirror Toudou’s stance and look at him.

- About what?

- This. Us.

Makishima sighs and rubs his face and eyes. Toudou instinctively brings up a hand to rub his arm and caress his head. Makishima holds onto it.

- I don’t know, honestly.

- Come here, please.

Makishima rolls into his embrace, but Toudou feels like he’s the one being held and supported – that’s the kind of power Makishima has on him.

- I… I don’t know if I can keep doing this, Maki-chan.

Makishima tenses and Toudou makes a shushing, soothing sound not very different from the ones he uses with Sangaku, when he fusses.

- …d-do you want to quit?

Toudou hugs him tighter.

- No. Quite the contrary, actually. Do you want to quit, now?

Makishima shakes his head, and pulls him closer.

- Not at all. Quite the contrary, if I could have it my way.

They sigh in unison, minds reeling but tension slightly dissipated now that they have implicitly stated they’re on the same page about their feelings for each other.

- What do we do, then?

Makishima kisses him, and although it doesn’t solve the issue it’s still a welcome, not to mention of fundamental importance in order to put things into perspective, interlude.

- Do you think we should tell the kids?

Toudou sighs.

- They will start asking questions, if we keep this up. Better yet, I feel that if we decide we’re being more open about this and more or less officialising it, they should know the truth.

Makishima nods.

- To be honest, I’m more worried about the reaction of all the other people who might hear about this, and how Sakamichi might respond to that.

Toudou kisses his forehead.

- I know what you mean. But it’s not like we don’t have a trusted net of friends and relatives who might have our backs and, by extension, our kids’. I can’t promise everything will always go smoothly, but I’m positive that our children will always have a safe circle of people they can rely on, and they will always know how much they’re loved.

- I really don’t want to disrupt Sakamichi’s life, right now. Or put my selfish needs before his well-being.

Toudou swallows. He’s asked himself the same thing, over and over, in the past weeks: is it being selfish, on a parent’s part, to think about their own chances at happiness?

- I know I wouldn’t be able to live with myself, if my actions directly caused Sangaku harm or distress, after everything he’s been through and after everything we’ve accomplished together.

- Exactly.

- …but I also think that kids can only benefit from their parents’ happiness. I mean… I’m better, when I’m with you. I feel better, afterwards. More energetic, more relaxed. And Sangaku notices. Because I’m better with him too. I certainly smile more.

Makishima squeezes him in an emotional display of agreement.

- If we tell the children and act transparent, spending so much time at each other’s places wouldn’t be so weird or unusual anymore.

- Indeed, it wouldn’t. Although I believe I will have to hold onto my and Manami’s apartment quite tightly: he has developed a routine and it’s given him a stability I wouldn’t have hoped for. He has improved a lot, lately.

- Me too: Sakamichi has got used to his house and his room – he likes it a lot, here, has a sense of belonging. I can’t take that away from him. Certainly not now.

They sigh again, although it has a more melancholic sound to it, now. This time, it’s Toudou who leans in for a kiss.

- It’s not ideal, but I fear it’s the best we can hope for, at the moment.

Makishima agrees and kisses back.

- We’ll make do, for now.

*

They are woken up by the shrill cries of over-excited children who just found out Santa did indeed leave something for them under the tree – and of course they have to tell their parents first, even if it means barging into Makishima’s bedroom and climbing both on the bed and on top of their respective fathers to jump on their legs until they’re awake. Luckily, they pulled apart during the night, and Sakamichi and Sangaku didn’t catch them in compromising positions.

They get pulled into the living room as soon as they’re awake enough to keep their eyes open for more than three seconds, and once in charge of screaming toddlers running around the sofa and the tree in anticipation, they do indeed forget everything about sleep.

The bikes elicit the intended reaction, and they spend a good part of the early morning mounting all the pieces, taking pictures and checking the weather to promise the children that yes, if they behave and agree on dressing appropriately they can go in the courtyard and try their new bolides after breakfast. Which is a loud and messy affair. But an extremely joyful one, as well.

They manage to have a couple of hours of untainted fun in the open before it starts snowing again, and although they allow the kids to play a little among the snowflakes, it’s soon clear that they’d better get back inside. There’s a little protesting, but the prospect of more presents to open and of a second breakfast made of pancakes is enough to bribe the kids into agreeing.

Sangaku and Sakamichi drew each other Christmas cards at kindergarten, and obviously prepared more elaborate ones for their fathers, full of childish love and devotion and, in Sakamichi’s case, glitter. Toudou and Makishima pretend they don’t see each other’s wet eyes as they thank their kids profusely and coddle them shamelessly.

Toudou has gifted Sakamichi a Love!Hime set of bike decorations and hat, while Makishima got Sangaku a baby-blue backpack for their excursion with tiny angel wings sprouting from the sides. As the children talk excitedly about their new possessions and enjoy the holiday, Toudou touches Makishima’s arm to get his attention.

- Actually, I have something for you too.

It’s a golden necklace that Makishima has mentioned during one of their dates. It’s at the same time perfect and absurd, because Makishima got Toudou a similar one that he, too, noticed during the same date. The instinct is to jump each other’s bones right there right now, but they can’t in front of the kids and settle for helping each other putting on their respective necklaces, although with a little more touching than necessary, maybe.

Then the kids stop playing to look at them, and ask about the presents they’ve just exchanged, because it’s weird for adults to do that, isn’t it?

It takes them just a quick glance to understand and silently agree that yes, this is it, because the atmosphere is perfect, they have the best excuse to introduce the matter and it’s Christmas, which kind of means nothing can go wrong today - therefore this is not only the right moment, but the one and only too. Toudou swallows and clears his throat.

- Sangaku, Sakamichi… – he starts, and he exchanges a pregnant look with Makishima, who smiles at him, takes his hand and nods, giving him courage. The kids look at them expectantly. Toudou takes a deep breath, but Makishima senses his uneasiness and comes to his rescue.