by Ms. C. Mouse
The click of plastic hangers bumping against each other was the sound of seconds ticking away. Feeling dizzy from too many choices, Kenji scowled at the maid costume before him. After rejecting it, he shoved it aside. Click. This one was too girly. Click. This one had too much lace and ruffles. Click. This one did NOT have enough fabric. Click.
Kenji glanced over his shoulder at the clerk who was assisting a customer on the other side of the store. If he asked her to help — no, forget it, he refused to let anyone know that he needed the costume in his size. He considered making up a story about a girlfriend, but he sucked at lying. As he faced the rack once more, he could feel his temples begin to throb. Smacking his fist against his thigh, he knew that he needed to make a decision before the clerk came his way. On the soccer pitch, he used his athletic ability, and he understood strategy, and he liked being part of the team as they worked together to win. He couldn’t see any way to transfer those skills to this situation. Clothes shopping made him feel as if he were back in preschool and he needed his mother’s help to get dressed.
After several more minutes, he finally found an acceptable costume; it was mostly black with some buckles and other metallic details that actually looked somewhat cool. Kenji choked when he turned over the price tag. What an outrageous amount of money for a piece of clothing he would use once before getting rid of it! Right now he wanted to kick a soccer ball, or at least kick an opponent’s shin, instead of being bound up in hesitation. He knew that if he had just been given a day or two instead of one and a half hours, he could have visited other stores, ordered something online or at least found a legitimate excuse to be somewhere else on the day of the party.
In a burst of frustration, he made up his mind to buy the expensive costume — taking a chance that it would fit — because he wanted this ordeal to end as soon as possible. Just as he took hold of the hanger, wrapping his fingers around it in a tight grip as he prepared to speed off to the cashier’s counter, someone spoke to him.
His arm jerked in surprise. The dress flapped up and almost fell off the hanger before Kenji returned it to the display rack. He then dropped his arm to wipe his sweaty palms on his pants. As he looked over his right shoulder to see who had called to him, his body tensed up. The red barrettes in the long, tea-colored hair caught his attention, but it was the big dark eyes and sexy lips that made him recall his cherished daydream of a pretty girl approaching him. In his daydream, the pretty girl would confess, throwing herself at him and begging him to touch her as she cooed about how manly he was. Unfortunately, he stared too long, and his newfound enthusiasm collapsed like a house of cards in a stiff breeze. The guy who wasn’t a girl wore a white, button-down, short-sleeved shirt, and dark green trousers. His gaudy gold-and-green tie, which hung loose around his neck, designated him as a first year student from M___ senior high school, just like Kenji. However, Kenji didn’t recognize him since the other student wasn’t a classmate or a member of the soccer team.
“Hey,” Kenji said in as casual a tone as he could muster under the circumstances. After picking up his schoolbag which had been resting against his leg, he quickly put some distance between him and the other student as if he was planning to go elsewhere. It was embarrassing enough to buy what amounted to an overpriced dress without having an audience. He would have to waste valuable time as he waited for the other guy to move on.
“No.” Kenji took an even bigger step to his left. Why couldn’t that idiot take a hint and leave him alone already?
“Then you must have a maid fetish.” When the guy chuckled, Kenji felt his face heat up.
“I don’t have a maid fetish,” he snapped. “Now leave me alone.” He had tried to be discreet, but the guy was ignoring all the signals.
The annoying guy edged right up next to him as if they were the best of friends. Kenji hunched his shoulders, expecting the other student to put an arm across them at any moment. “Judging by the intense look on your face, I thought you were trying to picture your girlfriend in a costume.” The guy’s hand landed on Kenji’s shoulder to give it a quick squeeze.
Kenji turned to stand face to face with him, and once again felt himself blushing as the guy met his glower with those amazing eyes. Only girls should have eyes that pretty, he thought to himself before focusing on the other teen’s forehead. He noted, with some relief, that he was as tall as the other student, and by lifting his heels off the floor just a bit Kenji was able to feel as if he gained a slight edge. Many of the boys, and some of the girls, in his class were taller than him. If this guy wanted to fight, at least he wouldn’t have a physical advantage.
“Just because we go to the same school, don’t think you have the right to talk to me.” Kenji shoved him aside. As he made his way toward the exit, Kenji observed that some of the customers were giving him stern looks, and he tried to avoid brushing against them as he passed by. The last thing he needed was for some aunty to contact the high school and complain.
Pulling his cell phone out of his pocket, he decided right then that he was going to call Kanazaki and tell him that there was a family emergency, and that he would not be able to attend the party. He might even pretend to be sick tomorrow so his mother would let him stay home. As far as he was concerned, any punishment that Kanazaki inflicted on him would be better than dealing with this. He would rather be humiliated in front of the soccer team then out in public.
Before Kenji could reach the exit, his shirt drew tight across his neck and chest, and he felt his shirttail slip free from where it had been tucked into his pants. He stopped, even though he didn’t want to, in an effort to avoid tearing his shirt or losing a button.
“You drew the low card.”
“What!” Kenji whipped back around. His shirt twisted and bunched under one arm. Kenji could feel cool air against his stomach as his shirt rode up. “How did –? Who told you?” Just then, he noticed that the guy was staring at his abdomen and grinning. “Let go,” he said, slapping away the other boy’s hand before pulling his shirt back into place.
“Nice abs. I’m Kanazaki Atori. I heard my cousin Daiya talking about a party he’s planning this afternoon.”
Kenji smacked his palm against his own forehead before sliding his hand back to grab a fistful of hair. The teasing was already starting. A curse on Kanazaki’s mouth! Kenji respected Kanazaki-sempai, the captain of the soccer team, and he thought he did a fine job of leading the team, but Kenji hated the way Kanazaki talked so freely about other people’s business. It was a sure bet that uninvited people would show up at the party with the sole intent of making fun of him.
“And you are?” Atori said.
Kenji thought about giving a false name or the name of a classmate. No, it was probably too late for that. Kanazaki-sempai must have mentioned his name by now.
“I’m Yamamoto Kenji.”
“I thought so. Daiya made a big deal about a kohai who would be dressing up like a maid. I had a hunch that I might find you here since this is the closest costume shop to the campus.”
Kenji faced the exit once more. “I’m not going to the party. A family emergency just came up.” He barreled out the door, but only took two big strides before Atori snagged his shirttail.
“Really? Are you psychic? Because I didn’t see you look at your cell phone or send a text message. It can’t be that big of an emergency if you were able to stare at costumes for the last seven minutes.”
Kenji clenched his fists. It embarrassed him to know that he had been watched without even realizing it. He swung at Atori in anger, but Atori dodged the blow with sinuous grace before snatching the cell phone out of Kenji’s hand.
He opened it up and pushed a few buttons with his thumb. “Just as I thought. No calls or texting in hours.”
“Give me my phone.” Kenji dropped his school bag as he lunged forward to grab onto Atori’s shoulder and wrist. He was surprised by how thin and delicate they felt, yet there was also strength in them.
“Calm down,” Atori said as Kenji retrieved the cell phone, and then backed away. “Stop and listen to my offer. I can guess what you’re thinking. The costumes are pricey, and you don’t want to waste your money.
Kenji nodded reluctantly while putting his cell phone into his pocket.
“I can help you,” Atori continued. “I’m in the drama club. I also work on the costumes.”
“I don’t have time for you to make me a costume.”
“No kidding, Mister Obvious.” Kenji turned to leave, but Atori jumped in front of him while waving a dismissive hand in the direction of the costume store. “You’ll buy an outfit, but not from here.”
“I’m not going to the party. Now get out of my way.”
“It would be a shame if Daiya discovered that the family emergency was a lie.”
Kenji raised his hand with the intent of wiping the smirk off Atori’s face. Now things were getting worse; did Atori really intend to blackmail him? “Why do you want me to go to the party? What’s in it for you?” His mind conjured up a scenario of the school hallways plastered with pictures of him in a maid costume. He hated to be made fun of, and especially for something he didn’t typically do — like dress up as a girl. Sometimes he was sure that everyone was laughing at him even when he was trying to fit in.
“I consider it a challenge.” Atori’s words sounded sincere, but Kenji couldn’t be sure that it wasn’t just an act. “And I don’t mind helping out another first year student. So how much time have we got before the party starts?”
Kenji glanced at his watch. “About an hour and ten minutes.”
“That’s more than enough time to make you look cute for the party.”
Kenji hated those words. “I don’t want to be cute.” This harassment needed to end now. Atori had already insinuated that he would tell Kanazaki-sempai the truth so maybe a bribe was needed. Kenji reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and removed half the money. No, he reasoned, this called for extreme measures. Taking all the money from the wallet, he held it out to Atori. “Here. This is everything I have. It’s yours if you promise to tell Kanazaki-sempai that I had a family emergency.”
Atori eyed the money, but didn’t touch it. “No,” he said with a firm voice. “Don’t try to sneak out of this. You wouldn’t be a regular on the team if you gave up so easily, Yamamoto-san.”
Kenji flinched as if Atori had slapped his face. It was true. He wasn’t one to give up easily in most situations, but this was not a normal situation. Kenji placed the money back in his wallet.
“Good! Let’s get going,” Atori said as he picked up Kenji’s schoolbag and handed it to him before dragging Kenji back into the store. “First, we buy two basic accessories.” On the way to the cashier’s counter, he pointed out the items. “Buy the white apron with the red ribbons around the edge and the matching lace cap.” He grinned at Kenji. “I think red is your color.”
Kenji sneered at the sparkly, red barrettes holding back Atori’s hair before he faced the clerk to pay for the accessories. “No, red is your favorite color.”
“Maybe,” he drawled. Atori smiled at the store clerk, causing her to cover her mouth and giggle. Kenji felt disgusted. With such good looks, Atori could probably ask the young woman for her phone number and she’d give it to him.
As he and Atori left the costume store, he wondered if he was making a huge mistake. “I bet Kanazaki-sempai sent you here to make sure I didn’t skip the party.”
“Stop being paranoid.” Atori turned to face Kenji so abruptly that Kenji almost bumped into him. His nose was only centimeters away from Atori’s nose while the crowd on the busy Tokyo sidewalk flowed around them. Atori continued speaking but Kenji had already lost focus because Atori’s hair looked silky smooth in the sunshine. He wanted to touch it, but knew he shouldn’t. A sharp tug on his ear brought him back to reality. “Are you listening? I said he’s a jerk sometimes.”
“My cousin. I went looking for him after school because he owes me money. That’s when I heard him talking about the party and the kohai dressing as a maid. Then he tells me he doesn’t have the money he promised to return today because he had to reserve the large karaoke room. That makes him a jerk.”
Kenji refrained from agreeing because he didn’t know if he could trust Atori to keep that opinion of Kanazaki-sempai to himself since being somewhat of a jerk seemed to run in the family. Nonetheless, Atori’s reason for showing up at the store sounded plausible.
“C’mon, Yaya-san. There’s a used clothing store three blocks from here.” Atori broke into a jog. He slipped through the crowd, never once looking back to see if Kenji was keeping up.
“Don’t call me that,” Kenji said as he followed along, growing more exasperated by the minute. Why did it suddenly seem like everyone was slowing down intentionally or stopping in front of him? His schoolbag and the store bag bumped against his thigh as he strove to keep up.
Atori eventually came to a halt in front of a store with colorful ads plastered on the outside announcing all the great bargains available.
“The drama club buys some clothes here for our plays so we can stay in budget,” Atori said when Kenji caught up to him. “The prices are reasonable, and we always find some interesting items.” With a sweep of his arm, Atori pushed Kenji through the open door.
Once inside, Kenji snaked through narrow aisles, passing rack after rack of suits, dresses and jackets. It soon proved to be too much for him. He did a 180, trying to head back outside, but Atori gripped the collar of his shirt and made him keep going. Kenji hated clothes shopping. His mother could take care of that chore for the rest of his life as far as he was concerned. However, Kanazaki surged forward, full of obvious glee, as he went right to one particular section of the store as if guided.
“Yes! I remembered seeing this last week, and it’s still here.” He held up a black dress with a rounded collar and a short zipper in the back. Even to Kenji’s eyes, the dress appeared shapeless and sort of old fashioned.
“Great,” he muttered. “It looks like the outfit my mother wore to grandfather’s funeral.”
“I’m sure it’ll fit you,” Atori gushed as he held the dress up to Kenji’s shoulders. “Ah! And it’s been marked down again. You’re so lucky.” Kenji didn’t believe that for a second. If he was truly lucky, he wouldn’t have drawn the low card. Shrugging his shoulders, he followed Atori to the counter to pay for the dress.
Atori’s enthusiasm carried Kenji along like a scrap of paper caught in a storm as they dashed down the street again. He hardly had a moment to catch his breath before they entered a discount shoe shop.
“You need a shoe with a slight heel. They also sell stockings here.” Atori nudged his foot against Kenji’s. “Looks like we wear the same size.” They got several confused stares from the female customers in the store when Atori took a pair of shiny black pumps off the shelf. “Try these on. The shoes are made of synthetic material, so your feet are going to sweat horribly, but you can toss them out as soon as the party’s over.”
Kenji thrust his foot into the shoe only to immediately pull out when the pain flared from his toes to his Achilles tendon. “It’s too small.”
“Oh stop whining, Yaya-san. Were you going to wear gym socks and running shoes with the dress? That would look damn tacky.” Atori handed him a pair of white, thigh-high stockings. “The shoes will fit better once you’re wearing these. Now suck it up and walk for me.”
“Yeah, right.” Kenji frowned when he heard some of the mothers in the store snicker as their children asked embarrassing questions. He stomped around in tight circles while barely managing to avoid a twisted ankle. As soon as Atori gave him a nod of approval, he threw the evil shoes back in their box before seeking sanctuary in the spacious comfort of his running shoes.
Out on the sidewalk once more, Kenji looked up at the sky and the gathering clouds. “Do we have to go to another store?” he asked. The air was humid, promising rain, and Kenji hadn’t brought an umbrella.
Atori slapped him on the shoulder. “You must buy some red panties. There’s a department store just around the corner.”
“You can’t be serious, you sick bastard.”
As Atori tipped back his head and laughed, Kenji was captivated by his long, slender neck. “I didn’t think you’d agree to that. Then let’s go to the karaoke salon.” Atori clutched Kenji’s wrist and held it up as he squinted at Kenji’s watch. “We’ve got about thirty-five minutes before the party starts.” Once again, he took off running.
“Wait. Where am I going to change into the costume?” Kenji jogged along behind Atori as he grumbled, “I don’t want everyone at the party to watch me as I put the dress on. They’ll take blackmail pictures.”
Although he was used to running during a soccer match, Kenji still felt exhausted as they arrived at their final destination. When they entered the karaoke salon, Atori surprised Kenji by renting a small room for half an hour. “The door locks,” Atori told him, “and it’s better than getting dressed in the men’s restroom.” Kenji followed Atori down a narrow hallway and into a small, soundproof room.
Except for the karaoke machine, there wasn’t much else in the room. The walls, which had probably been white at some time, were tattooed with dings and smudges in various places. Against one wall, a small, black couch sat next to a plastic fern. The couch’s fake leather covering was cracked in several places, revealing the foam cushions inside. Despite its dilapidated appearance, the couch still looked comfortable to Kenji, who was more than ready to rest on it after all that shopping.
Kenji sat down and piled the bags around his feet. All he wanted to do for the next few minutes was sit quietly. He noticed when Atori left the room, but he didn’t ask him where he was going. Closing his eyes, Kenji tried to relax and prepare himself mentally for the party. About two minutes later, he heard the door open.
“I’ve got drinks,” Atori said as a cold can was pressed up against Kenji’s forehead. He took hold of it while opening his eyes. It was tea.
“Thank you, Kanazaki-san.”
“I mean it. And not just for the tea and the room. I really did save money.” Kenji opened the can and took a large gulp. He had worked up a thirst by running around.
Atori sat down next to Kenji after pushing aside one of the bags. He held up his can. “Here’s to our successful first date.”
Tea almost exploded out of Kenji’s nose. He coughed, clearing his throat. “Who said this was a date?”
“We went shopping, you bought some cute clothes, and now we’re in a karaoke room. Of course, it’s a date. Don’t you ever read shoujo manga?”
“No. Those are for girls.”
Kenji sipped his tea as Atori rambled on about a play the drama club would be presenting. He was only half-listening, however, since his thoughts kept returning to the party as he stared at the karaoke machine in the corner. It didn’t intimidate him since he thought he could sing okay; it was the people who would be watching him that made him nervous. Yes, people watched at the soccer match, but under those circumstances he was just another member of the team. The focus wasn’t entirely on him. That thought made him wonder how Atori could endure being up on stage.
Kenji hoped he wouldn’t be expected to talk with the girls at the party as he was serving drinks and snack food. That would be even more nerve-wracking than singing. Girls were confusing. He didn’t really have a clue about what topics they might be interested in unless it was sports.
“Daiya told everyone that the maid has to sing the first song, and it has to be a love song,” Atori said as he leaned in close, his mouth next to Kenji’s ear. Kenji twitched. He wondered if Atori was psychic or just good at picking up on other people’s brooding.
“You’re too nosy for your own good,” Kenji said as he balanced his nearly empty tea can on Atori’s head before standing up. “I’m going to get ready now.”
After taking off all of his clothes except for his briefs, he rolled up the uniform and stuffed it into his schoolbag. His mom would criticize him for wrinkling his uniform, but he didn’t want to leave his clothes lying around during the party. He tucked his socks inside his running shoes before setting them next to the schoolbag.
“Are your briefs clean?” Atori asked. “Yaya-san’s mama would be so disappointed to know her son wore shitty underwear to a party.” Atori twisted his face into a comical pout that had Kenji chuckling despite himself.
“Shut the fuck up.” Now Atori’s scandalized expression made Kenji laugh louder. It was actually fun to be with Atori, even though his good looks were unsettling at times.
“That’s the way. The sempai are going to tease you no matter what you do. If you can laugh along with their jokes, things will go smoother for you.” When Atori smiled at him, Kenji felt almost as good as when his team won a game.
“Yeah, I guess so.” Kenji knew that Atori was right, but the sempai still wouldn’t be easy to deal with.
He slipped the dress over his head after worming his arms into the long sleeves. The dress was tight across his shoulders, the sleeves were more than three centimeters above his wrist, and the front of the dress was droopy even after he zipped up in the back. He gave Atori a look that surely conveyed his total disgust. “I thought you said it would fit.”
“You could stuff your socks in there.”
Kenji ignored the stupid suggestion. He donned the apron and reached behind to tie it. “Let me do that,” Atori said. “I’ll make a sweet bow.” The apron strings dug into his waist as Atori drew them tight.
“Ease up, you idiot! Are you trying to cut me in half?” Behind him, Atori chuckled.
“But it makes the lower half of the dress puff out like you have some curves.”
“Don’t forget this.” Atori tapped him on the shoulder.
When Kenji turned around, Atori placed the lacy cap on Kenji’s head and adjusted it with a quick tug. An elastic band held the cap in place. Kenji was thankful that there weren’t any mirrors or reflective surfaces in the room. He didn’t want to see just how stupid he looked.
“Hold your arms in front,” Atori said. Then he carefully rolled up the sleeves of the dress until they were just below Kenji’s elbow. “There. Now they look like three-quarter sleeves.”
Kenji opened the package of thigh high stockings. After putting one aside, he held on to the top of the other and pushed his toes in just like he did when he was putting on a gym sock. However, his foot was not even half way in before the stocking caught on his toes. The stocking refused to open up any further as Kenji hopped about on the other foot to keep from toppling over. There was a hissing, crackling sound as the stocking rubbed against some dry skin on his heel; but when Kenji pulled harder, the stocking only stretched, becoming almost transparent. His foot still wasn’t making any progress.
“Stop,” Atori shouted, “you’ll put a hole in it that way.”
“Then you do it.” Kenji tugged the stocking off, bunched it up and threw it at Atori. “What a pain. I’m damn glad I’m not a girl.”
“Yeah, me too.” Kenji’s eyebrows went up when Atori winked at him.
“Quit dicking around. It’s almost time for the party.”
Atori shook out the stocking before using both hands to carefully gather it up until he finally reached the tip. “Sit down. Hold out your foot and point your toes.” As Atori slipped the stocking onto Kenji’s left foot, Kenji tried not to squirm; however, his leg suddenly felt very warm from Atori’s hands and the sensation of the stocking sliding over his skin. When Atori’s knuckles brushed against his thigh, Kenji was alarmed to find himself wishing that one of Atori’s hands would slip and rub against his chinko. He never knew his legs would be so sensitive to another person’s touch. When Atori looked into his eyes, Kenji breath hitched and he realized he had been panting as if he had just finished a sprint across the soccer field.
“Getting nervous about the party?”
“Yeah.” He was certain that Atori knew he was lying. Atori picked up the other stocking before Kenji could get a hold of it and he started the whole dance over again. Atori’s hands — quick yet graceful –mesmerized Kenji as his embarrassment at being dressed by someone else faded away. His thoughts drifted as he leaned back against the couch. Was Atori moving even slower? It almost felt like he was petting his leg.
“Does that hurt?” Atori asked as his finger traced a thin scar on the inside of Kenji’s right knee.
“No.” Even with such a short reply, Kenji could tell that his voice still sounded shaky.
“What happened? Did you get hurt during a match?”
“I… I fell out of a tree when I was seven years old.” A searing wind swirled around Kenji as Atori leaned in to kiss the scar before tracing it once more with the tip of his tongue. With a quick tug, Atori pulled up the stocking the rest of the way before letting his fingernails lightly scrape against Kenji’s thigh. Kenji fidgeted, his fingers toying with the red ribbons on the apron, as he was torn between the desires to kick Atori or to rub against him. Although he was sure that Atori was just playing with him, he found himself wanting more contact.
“You have good legs,” Atori said. “They’re very sexy in the stockings.” The hungry look in Atori’s eyes and the color in his cheeks made Kenji shiver.
“You!” It suddenly all made sense to him. “You’re the one with the maid fetish.”
“I won’t deny it.”
Kenji pulled his leg away, although somewhat reluctantly. “Is that the real reason you manipulated me into coming to my sempai’s party? So you could get your thrills?”
“It’s not the main reason.”
Kenji stood up and put on the black pumps. At least Atori was right about the shoes fitting better with the stockings; however, he felt like his foot was sliding around in the shoe, and that the shoe might just fall off if he walked too quickly. It didn’t feel right. Further more, nothing was right about this whole afternoon.
“I also fancy athletic types.” Atori said before he spanked him on the butt as Kenji walked about trying to get used to the shoes. Sputtering with indignity, Kenji turned and shoved him hard enough to send Atori flying back onto the couch. Atori laughed as he kicked his feet up in the air. “Cheer up, Maid-chan. Think of all the fun you would have missed by skipping the party. And frankly, your social skills can use some work.”
The back of his neck heated up as Kenji tried to defend himself against Atori’s comment, but the assessment was all too true. “Yeah. Okay. You got me. Unlike SOME people, I don’t have time to party, and cosplay, and be the center of attention. My grades are barely average, and I go to cram school four nights a week. Between school, soccer club, homework and cram school, I barely have time to sleep or eat.”
Atori tilted his head slightly to one side as his eyes studied Kenji from head to toe. “Something’s missing.”
“Yeah,” Kenji groused, “straps to keep these stupid things on my feet.”
Atori gazed intently at Kenji’s face before standing up and reaching into his pocket. “I know what it is.” He now held a little red cylinder in his hand. Kenji wondered what it was. “Hold still,” Atori said as he put his fingertips on the right side of Kenji’s jaw and his thumb on the left side. Once again, Atori’s touch made his skin ignite with a heat that traveled right down to his chinko. Maybe, he thought with some distress, it wasn’t just his legs that were overly sensitive.
Kenji pulled away as something slick touch his lips. “What is that?”
Atori scowled, drawing back his hand. “It’s just some tinted lip gloss. No big deal. It’ll give your lips a bit of color.”
“You carry lip gloss?”
“My lips get dry. Look. It’s strawberry, my favorite. Now stop talking and let me finish.”
Kenji rolled his eyes, yet he stayed put so Atori could finish applying the lip gloss.
“Perfect,” Atori said when he was finished. He then guided the gloss across his own smile with a sure hand. He continued staring at Kenji until Kenji was forced to look away out of sheer embarrassment.
“Now that we’ve shared an indirect kiss, want to try the real thing?” Atori asked.
Kenji could only blink. Was Atori kidding him? He was so confused. Atori looked attractive, desirable, but Kenji wasn’t sure what to do next or even if he wanted to say no. In the end, it was like trying to stop an approaching typhoon. He gave up resisting and reached up to touch Atori’s hair. It was as silky as he thought it would be.
Kenji closed his eyes as he leaned forward.
“A little to your left,” Atori whispered. Their noses still bumped and the lip-gloss made everything more slippery than he expected, but the strawberry-flavored kiss was far better than any he had ever imagined. Even the fact that he was sharing his first kiss with a guy couldn’t bother him at this point. The apron rustled against the dress as the lower hems of both were lifted up to Kenji’s waist. Atori’s hands roamed over Kenji’s butt and thighs as he pulled him closer. As Atori began to kiss his chin and his neck, Kenji tipped back his head. Both of his hands were clutching at Atori’s hair now because he was afraid he might fall over if he let go.
“You look good enough to eat, Maid-chan.” Atori’s fingers slipped into Kenji’s briefs and tickled his sack, making Kenji open his eyes and cry out. It felt incredible when someone else did the touching down there. Kenji swayed, almost losing his balance as Atori dropped to his knees in front of him. Atori’s beautiful lips were now on his thigh and only centimeters away from his chinko, but it wasn’t nearly close enough as far as Kenji was concerned. His skin tingled as the top of one of the stocking was pulled down.
There was a twinge of pain as Atori’s mouth began to bite and suck on the skin of his thigh, but it was the kind of pain Kenji wanted more of.
“Don’t make a mark. Someone’ll see it.”
Sweet pleasure gusted through Kenji’s body as Atori licked the spot he had been busy bruising only seconds ago. It was too much and not enough at the same time. The urge to tell Atori to hurry up already and start sucking his chinko was almost overwhelming. This wasn’t exactly how he imagined his first blowjob would turn out, but it easily topped jerking off in his bed at night.
“No one will see it there with the stocking in place.” Atori spread Kenji’s legs a little more as he pressed his lips against Kenji’s briefs and the budding erection beneath them. Kenji ground his chinko against Atori’s face. His body was out of control. Kenji hadn’t felt this elated since his team won the prefecture championship back in middle school.
“Yeah, I’m glad you’re not a girl,” Atori said as he squeezed Kenji’s thigh and pulled back a bit. When Atori sighed with what sounded like pleasure, the sensual touch of his warm breath drifting over Kenji’s skin made Kenji’s brain whirl like a pinwheel in a spring breeze.
“Damn it,” Kenji croaked. “Stop teasing me.”
“So impatient. Maybe I should …” Atori never finished his sentence. A ring tone that Kenji didn’t recognize sounded as Atori fished a cell phone out of his pocket and looked at it. “Hmm. It’s time for the party to start. We don’t want to be late.”
Kenji fumed as Atori stood up, letting his dress and apron drop back into place. How could Atori be so cruel to him! His chinko ached from the sudden lack of attention, but then the thought of going to the party after getting a blow job, and then having to face a group of older girls he didn’t know, proved to be enough to cool his eagerness. He wiped off the sweat that gathered on his brow, and tired to pick up the pieces of his shattered composure.
“You were invited to the party?” he asked Atori. It occurred to Kenji how awkward it would be to see Atori at the party. There was no way he would be able to keep his mind from picturing what they had almost done.
“No, I wasn’t, but I’m going to get my share of the food and drinks from my idiot cousin. After all, he did use the money he owed me.”
Atori gathered up the store bags. “You go first while I toss these in the trash bin.” Atori paused for a moment by the door. His admiring gaze made Kenji’s knees weak. “But don’t start flirting with anyone before I get there. You look so sexy right now, Maid-chan. I’m sure they’d gobble you up if I left you alone for too long.”
“Pfft, like that’s really going to happen. The girls in my class don’t even give me a second look.”
“I wasn’t necessarily talking about the girls,” Atori said. “And I won’t share when they finally do realize their mistake. By the way, plan on eating lunch with me tomorrow.”
“I’m busy during lunch.”
“Make time. I’ll ask my big sister to make an extra bento for you since it’ll be our second date. She’s a very good cook.”
“One bento is the same as the next. I usually study in the library during lunch or take a nap.”
“There’s that streak of impatience again. No, it’s not just the bento. If you bring your maid costume with you…” He kissed Kenji on the cheek. “…I’ll suck you off for desert.” Atori opened the door. Kenji rushed out, hoping the dress and apron would hide his hard-on until he could make it to a stall in the men’s restroom. “I know a place where no one will interrupt us.” Atori’s voice followed him down the hallway.
Although he was now at the opposite end of the hall and around a corner, Kenji could still hear Atori’s laughter. That stupid jerk was going to pay for this. Kenji would get back at him tomorrow by not showing up — he’d prove to him that he wasn’t — ah, who was he kidding? He would be there, and he would bring the costume because Atori was undeniably enticing. Atori may be a jerk at times, but he was Kenji’s annoying, loveable jerk.