Inside Closets

by Midori Michiko (緑美智子)


It was as Koji sat down, relieved that he wouldn’t have to deal with any harassment today, that the door to the classroom opened and cut the Art tutor off midway.

The man looked up from where he sat on a tall stool near the black-board. The students sitting in a circle around the room peeked around their easels, a small murmur replacing the recent silence that had permeated the room while the tutor had been talking.

“Yamashita-kun.” The teacher’s voice rang out, making the rest of the students duck back behind their canvases.

Yamashita, though, just sighed and looked away. He shoved his hands into his pockets and leaned against the open door. He didn’t look the least bit sorry.

“You realise that being assigned to help out in this class is to make up for your lateness in other classes, don’t you?”

When Yamashita gave him a droll look, the teacher shook his head and muttered something under his breath.

“I can overlook it this time since you’ve only been late today since you started. Take a seat.”

Koji wasn’t sure if anyone else noticed, but as the teacher went back to calling out names, there was a clear smirk on Yamashita’s face.

It was still there when he looked up at Koji. The cold black eyes locked on him, and Koji felt as if something was sinking into his stomach. He looked away from Yamashita quickly and fixed his gaze on the sketchpad in front of him.

Unlike the other students, Koji had been asked a few days before the start of summer break to help with the art classes that were to be given during the first four weeks of the holiday. Koji had agreed because he hadn’t had any other plans for his holidays and well—he didn’t mind helping out when it came to his only good subject.

Unfortunately, his expectation of helping younger students advance in Art had taken a not so happy turn when he’d found out that Yamashita Masa was there also.

Tucking his legs under his desk, he turned further away from Yamashita who was heading to his desk. Koji could feel the colour climbing up his neck, onto his cheeks, and the hand that he’d rested on the sketchbook clenched around his sketching pencils. The rubber band that he usually tied around his pencils to keep them together dug into the mound of his palm, but he still didn’t look up. Not when the chair scraped back and not when Yamashita sat down, still staring at him. His legs stretched out beneath the table and Koji had slight trouble getting air into his lungs when one of those legs slid between his own and Yamashita’s foot made itself comfortable beneath his chair.

Koji squeezed his eyes shut and drew his feet back, trying to calm himself and pay attention to the instructions the teacher was giving the students. He’d need to know for when he had to help the students out. And really, Yamashita was meant to be doing the same but when Koji finally worked up the nerve to glance back up, he found that Yamashita was resting his chin on his hand and staring straight at him.

Koji swallowed.

Before this class had started, they hadn’t even talked to each other. They had only shared one morning class. Even that meant nothing.

Koji’s hand tightened a little more on the pencil, and it slid a little from the increasing clamminess of his hands. They got that way every time this particular person came near him.

Yamashita Masa was well known in their school for being a delinquent. He wasn’t the type that caused trouble to others, but he and his little trio of friends skipped or slept through the majority of their classes. At break times they went behind the school and smoked their way through packs of cigarettes. And there was a small tattoo that was wound around his middle finger—an inscription of some kind that Koji had never gotten a look at let alone paid attention to before they’d been assigned to this class together.

Maybe it was boredom that had made Yamashita start his little slip ups.

During the first class, Koji had been talking to a student after the teacher had left the class for a brief time. Yamashita had been sitting on the windowsill, slacking. Koji had begun to feel uncomfortable, like someone under a spotlight they couldn’t see. When he’d looked over his shoulder, he’d found Yamashita watching him. His face had been blank but his eyes had been locked on Koji.

The staring had progressed to sitting next to him the day after that. Koji still remembered how he’d stared in shock when Yamashita had taken the seat opposite his and sat facing him throughout the entire class.

Koji didn’t like attention. He liked his own little space with his sketchbook and preferred to just bury his head in it until people finally got into their work and he could make himself useful to them.

It had gradually progressed to Yamashita saying good morning and smirking at him. He never smiled though.

Koji would rather Yamashita fixate on someone else, but it was the third week and that didn’t seem likely to change anytime soon.

He couldn’t even figure out what had gotten Yamashita to focus on him. Koji knew he was because he had yet to see Yamashita pay attention to anyone else who’d been coming to the summer sessions.

“…Hiyashi-kun and Yamashita-kun will both be on hand to help you with any questions you may have, so please try your best. That’s all. Please prepare your mediums and get started.”

At the sound of his name, Koji had looked away from Yamashita and turned to the teacher, who was giving him a worried look.

It was probably because of the burning that Koji could feel lingering on his cheeks.

Nodding that he’d understood—although, really, he hadn’t heard a word that was said—Koji reached for his sketchbook and quickly flicked to an empty page. It took him a few seconds before he realised that on the corner of the opposite page, the quick sketch he’d drawn the day before was visible.

He tugged it off the table in a flash and into his lap, turning away from Yamashita completely.

He couldn’t wait for the class to end.

Masa watched as Hiyashi turned away from him, clutching the sketchbook like it was his lifeline. His dopey features took on an even funnier look when the red stained his face and the way his body curled in was oddly cute.

Well. Masa hadn’t thought so before, but over the weeks they’d been monitoring the class together, Masa had begun to appreciate the little ways the other seemed to panic over nothing.

Masa eased back in his seat and crossed his legs, making sure that one of his feet bumped against Hiyashi’s just to watch the way he jumped away from him—throwing him a harassed look before he bent back over his sketchbook. Masa lost his smirk, though, when he zeroed in on Hiyashi’s throat. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed and tried his best to ignore Masa’s presence. It didn’t seem to be working all that well, as the colour refused to go away and the skin between his eyebrows had taken on a damp sheen.

Normally, that wouldn’t be attractive to Masa, but from the first day he’d been stuck in a classroom with Hiyashi, Masa had realised that his tastes weren’t limited to appreciating prettiness. Because really, there was nothing pretty about Hiyashi. And however he looked at it, Hiyashi was shit at any type of socialising and didn’t seem like he’d be able to correct that anytime soon.

His expressions were rarely attractive. He always had a stupid look on his face, but Masa had found that he really liked it when he looked embarrassed. It was oddly cute. Cute in a way none of Masa’s previous girlfriends—or boyfriends—had been.

Except the more touches Masa managed to get in, the further away Hiyashi would scoot and the more he’d avoid looking at him. It was a touch frustrating for someone who wasn’t used to it.

Masa sighed and looked away, narrowing his eyes at the light that hit them when he looked out the window. He ran a hand over through his hair, not enjoying the way it fell onto his face when it was this warm in the classroom.

A quick movement from the corner of his eye told him that Hiyashi had turned to look at him to catch the small movement and that was one of the things that added to the touch of frustration that Masa felt.

Clearly—as in denial as Hiyashi seemed to be—he did enjoy looking at Masa. Which was understandable. Masa turned to look at him, arching a brow at him as he allowed himself to smirk at him again.

Sick of not actually saying anything, Masa placed his hand on the table and leaned forward once more. In a low whisper, he spoke. “It’s okay to look you know.”

Untitled II, by serenity_winner

Hiyashi’s eyes widened so much that the brown of them became clearer. It was a shade darker than Hiyashi’s hair. The blush on his face intensified for a second, and Hiyashi practically choked on his own words before he managed to get them out and look away.

“I-I’m not.”

Satisfied that he’d at least gotten Hiyashi to look at him, Masa leaned back in his chair. His amusement as he continued to watch Hiyashi was clear on his face. “Liar.”

But Hiyashi didn’t look up again.

As someone asked for help, Hiyashi almost toppled his chair in his haste get up.

Masa let his eyes follow the shorter young man around.

Maybe it was time that he stopped waiting for Hiyashi to lose his shyness and approach him and just take advantage of him.

It was a good thing that he knew Hiyashi enjoyed being ridiculously early in the mornings.

Masa leaned his head against the back of the chair and let his eyes close.

Hiyashi would see.

Early the next day, Koji began taking the easels out from the stock room and settled them one by one against the wall of the classroom.

He liked it when the school was like this.

No one was around but the students who had been recruited to help the teachers set up, and even those remained quiet and kept to themselves. Some just stayed in the library and waited for the teachers to arrive. Others would be inside classrooms, lightly dozing because they hadn’t gotten sleep the night before or because they’d woken up a little earlier than they were used to.

So the halls were empty as Koji made his way through it carrying another easel. He’d left his things inside the classroom, safe in the knowledge that they wouldn’t be taken, and began getting things prepared.

He was excited because they were having an actual model come in so they could work on body proportions. It was going to be an interesting day. Koji liked these classes best because he enjoyed studying the human form. He loved the expressions people could make: they were unlimited. Their positions and gestures–they could all be so telling. It was part of the reason why Koji tended to keep to himself a lot. When given the opportunity and with people who felt comfortable with him, he’d stare for long moments, taking in as much as he could so that he could get it down.

Lately, he’d been drawing different expressions belonging to a certain someone. Most of them were of that person sleeping.

Because Koji couldn’t make himself study Yamashita when he was awake.

Yesterday Yamashita had been a lot less personal than he had been the previous days, and that had left Koji with a sense of disappointment. He hadn’t been sure why, because when Yamashita did focus on him it made Koji feel like he was under a hot spotlight that just followed him wherever he went and made him awkward and irritated—although the irritation barely rose above the awkward.

It was a shame.

Koji scratched his head and looked down at the ripped knees of his jeans as he walked back to the stockroom.

Yamashita had a very nice face. Koji liked it because it wasn’t perfect. His eyes were too sharp—but the black of them was really nice. When the light hit them they looked like they had little lights in the dark of the pupil. And his lashes were pretty long.

His hair was a bit long and always brushed against Yamashita’s chin. Koji preferred it when he had it pulled back into that small ponytail, though, because then, when he was asleep in the classroom, bits would always escape and rest against his cheek. His skin was so dark. He spent loads of time outside so that didn’t surprise Koji. His mouth was a touch too wide, but the top lip looked like it’d been drawn out. Koji really liked his top lip.

His body was tall but too thin. It was no wonder the majority of his clothes hung off his frame, but when Yamashita wore short sleeves, his arms looked surprisingly toned. Then of course there was that tattoo that wound its way around the middle finger of his left hand.

There was a small silvery line that cut through one of Yamashita’s eyebrows, almost touching his eyelid.

Koji knew these things because he’d drawn them several times in as many different expressions as he could manage without being caught looking. It had led to him knowing more than just Yamashita’s looks.

For instance, when Yamashita fell into deep sleep in the classroom, the right corner of his mouth would twitch every so often. His nose would twitch if his hair fell onto his face and tickled him. He’d do that a couple of times before Yamashita would lift a hand to brush it off.

The fact that he’d paid attention to these things as much as he had to the details of Yamashita’s face made Koji as uncomfortable as if Yamashita had been there staring at him.

Still going over what else had seemed to be carved into his brain about Yamashita, Koji turned into the open door to the stock room.

He stepped inside, feet automatic. There were only a couple of easels left anyway and the paints and brushes were easy enough to get together and take over to the classroom in one trip.

Koji was four steps into the room when the door was shut behind him and the lights went out.

He froze.

He stood frozen for a full ten seconds before he took a deep breath and turned around. Which didn’t do much good because everything around him was dark. The only thing he could see was a small line of white from the door.

“Not good…” he murmured, throwing a hand out as he began making his careful way back to the door.

That was when he saw something—something which seemed suspiciously like feet—moving in front of the little slim light coming from beneath the door.

He stopped again.

“Erm…” Koji squinted, trying to see, but his eyes hadn’t adjusted enough. “S-someone there?”

The sigh he heard freaked him out more than the fact that he was closed in inside a pitch black stock room.

The feet moved and he moved back. Which he realised too late wasn’t the smartest idea when his heel came up against something sharp and he went tumbling back. His back slammed into the floor hard and something sharp poked into his ribs. He was lucky he hadn’t hit his head but he didn’t consider that much of a consolation as he tried to get his breath back.

There was silence as he coughed a little and wondered if he’d broken something.

“You fell?”

His eyes flashed open and Koji stared at a ceiling he couldn’t see as he recognised that voice straight away.


He was in a dark room with Yamashita.

He was in a closed room with Yamashita.

“Ya-yamashita-kun…?” The name came out sounding choked.

“…You actually did, didn’t you?”

Koji was still staring into blackness, wondering just how his good morning had come to this.

He heard a sigh in the dark and couldn’t help the way he tensed.

“Fine, fine, I guess I can find you.”

The steps were very quiet but Koji still managed to hear them. Except then it stopped sounding like steps and instead it sounded like something else. He frowned, feeling slightly panicked and a lot confused.

Until a hand that was not his own landed right on his crotch.

Koji gaped at no one in particular as he heard a soft chuckle.

“Didn’t take much for me to find you.” The hand didn’t shift. Instead it just ground down against him.

Koji sucked in a sharp breath and remembered that he could actually move. Bracing his feet on the floor he started shoving himself back with them, thankful when the hand slid off of his—more private parts and onto the floor with a clap.


“I see you stammer too.” The words were spoken in a dry tone that made Koji’s feet slip and slide on the dusty floor of the stockroom. But the hand that locked around his hip—did he have night vision?—stilled him and Koji fell still.

He was breathing hard even though there was really no need to.

Although the fingers currently slipping beneath his t-shirt were reason enough.

“You see, you’ve been ignoring me quite a bit—which was interesting at first but then it just started grating on me.” Those same fingers dusted his skin, running along the line of his jeans. “Hmm. Firmer than I thought it’d be. Thought you’d have a little less muscle.” As if to prove what he was saying, Yamashita poked his stomach—and not gently either—before spreading his hand over his skin. “Even though I wouldn’t have minded if it hadn’t been that way. Part of your charm I guess.”

“But I haven’t—said anything or—or—or—done anything to make you th-think—”

Were those teeth?

His t-shirt had been pushed up and the hand that had been splayed over his stomach had slid to his side, fingers tracing the bumps of his ribs as teeth scraped at his skin. He couldn’t help the way he trembled under the sensation and without realising, one of his hands lifted, blinded—but he managed to find Yamashita’s head and thread his fingers through the smooth strands.

This wasn’t happening.

This wasn’t happening.

This was not happening.

His jeans were unbuttoned.

Oh my god this is happening.

“Yamashita-kun,” his desperate whisper sounded pathetic, “we’re in school.”

“Oh, so that’s where I made my way to this morning. I wasn’t sure myself, you see.” The words were a laughing breath against his skin and then, instead of applying his teeth to his stomach again, Yamashita-kun took a long lick to his belly button with stunning accuracy.

“Y-y-y—” he shuddered and didn’t realise how his hand had tightened into a fist on Yamashita’s hair, “b-but I’m…”

God he was sucking.

Suck. Ing. “You watch me a lot. And I’ve seen what’s inside your notebook.”

A hole. A hole to swallow him up right there and then would be a good thing. Koji let go of Yamashita’s hair and covered his face, not remembering that Yamashita wouldn’t be able to see him anyway.

“You like my face, Koji-kun?”

His name was said in a sing-song way.

Koji was pretty sure that it wasn’t the sound of his name alone that made him feel like his jeans had suddenly grown two sizes too tight. He thought that maybe it had to do with the mouth still playing around on his stomach and the body that had fit itself between his legs. The hand that was still rubbing up and down his side.

“It’s not like that.” Koji hadn’t removed his hand from his face so when he spoke, his voice was muffled against his hands. “Your face is different.”

“Hmm… do tell…”

His shirt was pushed higher and the weight of Yamashita’s body between his thighs was shifting. One leg swung over to one side, another to the other, until Koji’s ribs were bracketed by Yamashita’s knees and Yamashita’s weight fell directly onto his groin.

His erection was pressing right against Yamashita’s ass.

“Well?” Along with the word, Yamashita rocked once against Koji.

“Y-our eyes a-are too sha-sharp.”

Yamashita rocked again and Koji’s t-shirt was pushed until it was gathered at his neck. Yamashita leaned down. Koji knew because he felt Yamashita’s soft hair brushing against his ear as his lips feathered against a bit of skin that Koji’s hands hadn’t managed to cover. And soon they weren’t covering his face at all anymore because Yamashita had caught his wrists—slim fingers wrapping them around to tug them away—and then Yamashita was following the line of his jaw with small bites that he soothed with his tongue. “Does that mean you don’t like my face then?” Yamashita murmured into his skin.

Koji shook his head.

Yamashita rocked against him again and his air supply grew a little thinner.

“I l-like the imperfections.”

“Oh?” Rocked again.

Koji nodded. His wrists were still caught in Yamashita’s hands and they were steadily being pulled lower and lower. The back of his fingers grazed Yamashita’s clothes, the material soft and warm. “The imperfections—” Yamashita curled Koji’s fingers into his jeans, “they’re…the-they’re pretty.” Yamashita let go of his fingers and Koji let them stay where they were, half-tucked into the jeans and half just hanging out.

Yamashita’s mouth feathered back up until Koji felt the tip of his tongue brushing against the corner of his mouth.

“You’re meant to undo those buttons Koji-kun.” He rocked again.

Koji found himself obeying with a nod. The heat in his cheeks was no longer entirely from embarrassment. The fast rise and fall of his chest wasn’t from embarrassment either. His cock was straining against his jeans and it felt so good—so good when Yamashita would grind down against him.

Still, it was a shock when Yamashita’s hands returned to help his after the buttons had been undone. One hand cupped one of Koji’s and Koji gasped like an idiot when something hot and hard was pressed into his palm. Yamashita closed his fingers around it and then gently tugged on Koji’s hand, urging him to move it.

“I don’t—I don’t—I’ve never—er… Yamashita-kun I haven’t—”

The ‘shhh’ was poured into his mouth and shut him up.

That perfect top lip was pressed to his mouth and Koji suddenly wished he could see. Of course even if the lights had been on he wouldn’t have been able to see it. But the images produced in his head were what got his hand to start moving on Yamashita’s erection of his own volition.

Yamashita groaned into his mouth and started rocking harder against him, ass rubbing back and forth over Koji’s clothed erection again and again.

Yamashita didn’t speak again. He made little moans instead, small harsh groans into Koji’s mouth between short sweet kisses. Koji’s free hand had found its way beneath Yamashita’s shirt and was crawling up the line of his spine as he began to thrust up against Yamashita, matching the strokes of his hand and rhythm of Yamashita’s hips.

Their pants were loud in the room, sinking deep into Koji’s ears as he felt his lips being parted for deeper kisses. And his belly felt tight—so tight he wondered if he’d cramp afterwards. He was moving faster against Yamashita as Yamashita came down on him harder. The hand which had never moved away from Koji’s encouraged Koji to start pumping faster, so he did. His hand was sliding faster and faster with every stroke up. The come which had started beading at the head of Yamashita’s cock smudged onto Koji’s palm.

That was when Yamashita started speaking again. Although it wasn’t so much words as they were hisses.

Yes…yes… yesss,” and following that last hiss of yes, teeth clamped down on Koji’s bottom lip.

The sharpness of the pain made Koji yelp and had his eyes flying open. Unfortunately it also had him coming. Taken completely off guard by the rush of it, Koji’s hips bucked up hard a few times and his hand tightened on Yamashita’s cock without Koji even realising it—he was too busy grinding himself against him as he came inside his pants.

Head still muddled from the sensations making him shudder on the floor, Koji barely felt it as Yamashita took control of his hand and thrust hard and fast into it, his forehead pressing against the hollow of Koji’s throat as he let out a sob like sound and—

“Nhhh…nnnhhh…” Teeth dragged their way over Koji’s collarbone painfully and Yamashita shook beneath the hand that Koji still had on his back. “Shit…” the word was so quiet but it threw a bucket of ice over Koji’s still floating senses.

The possibility that Yamashita would now tell him he’d done something wrong in—in this—this…thing horrified him and he became a still block. Koji wasn’t sure his vocal chords would be any help if he tried to speak.

Shit…” Yamashita said again, going limp against Koji, “…that was so much better than I expected.”

And in a moment of overwhelming feelings and very, very confused thoughts, Koji did something that would haunt him for the rest of his life.

He passed out.

Masa thought it was cute the way Koji refused to look him in the face at all after the incident.

It’d been a week since then and from the moment Masa had brought Koji back from unconsciousness with a few sharp slaps to his face, Koji had been wary of being near him during classes.

The reason being because every time Masa got near him, Koji became unable to control his more than natural reaction. Apparently, Koji couldn’t help remembering what they’d done in the art stock room.

Or what they’d done the day after in Masa’s bedroom. (Mind you, Masa had had to practically drag Koji to his house after class had ended.) And the day after that. And the day after that. The weekend had unfortunately been a no go because Koji had had a family wedding to attend. Masa had been a little put out but he’d been fine with waiting for Monday.

Masa watched as Koji made his way to another student who had his hand up.

And caught the quick look Koji threw at him.

Colour flooded his face straight after and Koji choked on whatever it was that he’d been saying to the student.

Yamashita smirked and swung his feet onto their table. He scooted lower in his seat and rested his head against the back of his chair.

Then he began to plan how he’d manage to get Koji back into the closet during break time.

Helping teachers out during the summer break had turned out not to be so bad after all.

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