Five o’clock rolled around with little preamble or fanfare, the end of the day creeping along just as the beginning and middle had. Terribly, maddeningly monotonous. And yet, this hour brought with it a ripple that ran through the massive room, passing over and through and between a maze of khaki cubicle walls to the interchangeable worker drones occupying each cell. The business day – and with it, the week – was over. Near the center of the room, within the confines of his own prosaic box, one of the workers saved his current project and shut down his computer for the weekend. White fluorescent lights flashed against wire-framed glasses and shimmered across dark chestnut hair pulled into a tidy ponytail as he stood, stretching the kinks of nine hours of sitting from his lanky form.
‘Ahh, finally! Freedom!’
“Hey, Andou!” an over-cheerful voice called from Die’s left, and he glanced up briefly.
His neighbor was draped over the wall separating their cubicles, willowy arms hanging into his space. Die’s hackles rose at the casual invasion of his territory, but his mouth was already pulling into a friendly smile, a greeting spilling past in sociable tones, “Hey, what’s up?”
“We were going to hit the bar before heading home for the weekend, maybe do some karaoke! You in?”
It was a tempting offer. Not because Die had any interest in partying with his coworkers, but because this one in particular was almost distractingly attractive. Long-bodied, like himself, but not gawky; velvety black hair falling into smiling eyes, and sweetly-curved lips; possessed of a boyish charm somehow seamlessly fused to an inherently seductive, flirty nature. Even now, everything about his posture, his voice, and his expression held a ‘come hither’ sort of tone that seemed at once entirely ingenuous and wickedly implicative.
Acceptance was on the tip of Die’s tongue, but he caught himself. Toshimasa Hara wasn’t attracted to
him. He was an inadvertent flirt with pretty much everyone – as was simply his way – and pity be to the fool who thought otherwise. Still, it almost hurt to refuse. “Sorry, not this time. I think I’m just going to go home and crash.”
‘He’s just being friendly.’
‘Disgusting slut…’
Pleasantries continued between them after that – Toshiya expressing his disappointment, Die reiterating his apologies, banal jokes and farewells bouncing back and forth as they packed up – but it all just registered as static buzz in Die’s ears. When he did manage to break away, his pace down the hall was unhurried, but he was seething with impatience inside. He needed to be out of this rat’s maze of an office building. Faceless coworkers called out goodbyes to him as he passed, and he flashed a beautiful smile to all of them as he responded with perfect congeniality, though he didn’t hear so much as a word any of them spoke. More mindless small talk as he waited for the elevators, then he was stepping onto the car, and focus returned when he found himself standing next to another enticing individual.
Sharp eyes, sharp mind, sharp tongue; Kaoru Niikura was attractive, without a doubt, but carried with him a sense of menace. An obsessive perfectionist in all things, he demanded nothing short of excellence from the employees under his supervision, and would ruthlessly drive them all to exhaustion in the pursual of it. Superior and unyielding, Kaoru would be a challenge to get close to, but one had to wonder at the softer, more vulnerable or at least more human side that must dwell beneath the flawless outer shell.
“Andou,” Die’s boss greeted, coolly. “How is the analysis for the Tezuka account coming?”
Die’s hands flexed involuntarily, just the slightest bit, unnoticed as he bowed his head diffidently, “It will be ready by Wednesday as promised, Mr. Niikura.”
“Ah, wonderful. Excellent work, as always.”
Praise, offered as a biscuit to a dog. None of Die’s resentment showed in his smile or voice, affecting only graciousness when he responded, “Thank you, sir.”
‘Doesn’t think about anything but work, does he?’
‘Cocky prick…’
Kaoru gave a thin-lipped smile, and the only sound the rest of the way down was the mindless jingle of elevator music. The doors chimed and hissed open, releasing the dozen or so people within out into the lobby, and Die split free of the group to stop at the administration office on his way out. Sitting, prim and proper behind a neatly-organized desk, was his third and final craving. Shinya Terachi. Staggeringly,
untouchably beautiful, with an angel’s face and a shy laugh hidden always behind one elegantly long hand, he was the epitome of poise and propriety.
Safe enough to hit on, if only because - though surprisingly tolerant of flirtation - there was no real risk of success; the man was an ice-cold professional to the core.
Hearing his door open, he gave Die his customary reserved smile, absently tucking a stray lock of auburn hair behind one ear, “Good afternoon, Mr. Andou. Did you forget to log your hours again this week?”
Die flashed his sweetest grin, leaning his hip against the younger man’s desk, “Oh, you know I’ll take any excuse to come see you.”
Shinya was, as always, completely unruffled he typed, “Fifty hours as usual, I presume?”
Die gave an exaggerated sigh of long-suffering, “Sixty this week. Niikura’s
heartless!”
“Well, I’ll make sure you’re at least paid for it.” More typing, then another empty, polite smile, “There we are, you’re all set. Anything else I can do for you today?”
A teasing wink as he straightened, “You can give me your phone number.”
“See you next Friday, Mr. Andou.”
“Haha, yeah, probably. Have a good weekend!”
‘He probably thinks I’m joking with him.’
‘Stuck up bitch…’
Die let the omnipresent mask of friendliness drop as he left the office, his features falling abruptly to cold detachment. He was haunted, even now; haunted by so much that he wanted to do, wanted to say, and the overwhelming pile of things that kept him still and silent –
forced him to swallow his urges when he was surrounded every day by temptations so sweet they made his mouth water. He shook his head to clear it and made his way out onto the street, heading towards the subway station. It didn’t help though; the thoughts didn’t leave. Restlessness was stirring in his belly and his fingers fidgeted endlessly at anything in reach; the buttons of his jacket, the strap of his messenger bag, the edges of his pockets. How long had it been…? Weeks? No… months? It felt like an eternity since he’d last reached out and found someone to fill that emptiness inside himself.
‘Need…’
‘No… no, I’m fine, I’m-… nnnh…!’
‘I need…’
He was almost shaking by the time his train pulled in, and he crammed himself into the overfilled car with a nagging sense of loathing for those around him. The doors hissed closed and he squeezed his eyes as tight as he could, trying to tune out the incessant press and buzz of humanity for the duration of the trip. Minutes ticked by excruciatingly slowly as they passed through stop after stop; fourteen of them, before he moved again to step off the train. A three-block walk, six stops on a city bus, and one more block on foot found him rushing down the half-flight of stairs to his apartment, tucked into a quiet corner on the bottom floor of his complex. He locked the door behind himself, kicking off his shoes and dumping his bag aside carelessly before hurrying to his bedroom and fishing out the small wooden chest he kept tucked in the darkest corner of his closet.
Carefully, almost reverently, he sat on his bed with the chest in front of him and unlocked it with a key from his wallet, sucking in a deep breath as its contents were revealed to him. A lock of pink hair. A lip ring on a thin chain connecting to an earring. A white nose band. So many odds and ends; mementos –
trophies – from his past conquests, and seeing them again, Die felt that familiar spark flare up in his lower belly. Releasing the breath in a slow shudder, he reached into the box, closing his eyes to immerse himself in the recollection of passion and pleasure as his fingers drifted over each prize in turn. Too long. It had been too long. Flashes in his mind; of straining, sweat-slicked bodies beneath his own, of hands grasping at him and voices crying out in desperation and need, of sinking himself into the warm embrace of another human being…
His wool slacks began to feel too constrictive and he moved his free hand to unzip them, pushing the top edge of his briefs down to free his hardening length. He knew it was sick but he couldn’t help it, the memories were simply too delicious. He wrapped his fingers around himself and began to pump, slowly at first, but faster and faster as memory shifted to fantasy and he imagined succumbing to his temptations. Toshiya’s shamelessness, deserving of punishment. Kaoru’s arrogance,
begging to be taken apart and broken. Shinya’s purity, so ready to be tarnished. Wrong – what he wanted – so wrong,
disgusting and yet all at once enthralling and Die moaned as he began to work at himself almost furiously, mentally undressing and defiling the beautiful bodies that haunted his days. They were out of bounds, he knew, but still constantly fanned the flames of his desire until he was consumed by madness.
Control began to slip and he grasped at the side of the wooden box with his free hand, wary of damaging any of his treasures as he bucked his hips up into his own fist. Flesh on flesh, heat – his own, but oh, wasn’t it so much sweeter to pretend it was someone else’s? – friction, need – he knew it was wrong to want it so badly but he couldn’t care anymore – so
tight…! His mind left him and then he was crying out as pearly white sin splattered out over his hand and bedspread. The coil of pleasure snapped and he was spent… but that ever-repressed place inside him was still screaming for release.
‘Need…’
‘I need it…’
‘Tonight.’
Maybe he would be going out after all.
