Lowlight

12.

Madara:

I kept painting at a rapid pace, enjoying this new style I'd found. I didn't do any more portraits, figuring Hashirama was the only one I wanted, but I incorporated the photorealism in my next paintings. I hoped to have all ten ready by the end of autumn to feature in the art gallery of the renowned owner.

The day after Hashirama had fucked me in the studio, I sat on Eric's couch. Him, me and some other students had come to the studio that same morning to find the mess on the floor that was created when me and Hashi fucked.

"What... the fuck happened here?" one asked.

I could feel Eric casting a meaningful glance at me, a blonde eyebrow raised questioningly, even if I couldn't see him.

Now it was evening, and we sat on either side of his couch, leaning against one corner each, him drinking a beer, me drinking a cocktail he'd mixed for me, enjoying each other's company while watching a series. Or listening, in my case.

And I told him what had happened. He listened intently.

"Oh, my God, Madara, I'm so relieved for you", he said, and he genuinely sounded so.

"You're not upset?" I asked. I had been afraid he would be. And a small part of me was disappointed he wasn't.

I could feel him smiling. "A little", he confessed. "I mean-" I sensed him crawl over the sofa on all four, putting his face close to mine. "You do taste delicious."

I laughed and pushed his face away. "Oh, my God, stop, we're sober!"

He laughed too, and settled down back on the couch. "No, it's fantastic. I saw it on him the entire time in the studio."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean... I know you can't see him, but I can. The way he looks at you... It was clear he was jealous. No-one has ever looked at me with such hostility as he did when I came and hugged you from behind."

"You sneaky bastard!" I exclaimed, throwing a pillow at him.

Eric just laughed. "No, man, he loves you. And you love him. End of story."

I smiled and hugged my knees close to me.

Hashirama:

Two days after I had taken him in the studio, I phoned Mito.

I was expecting sympathy, but she was furious.

I had never heard her so upset.

"What the hell is wrong with you!? It's clear you want to be with him. It's clear he wants to be with you. You obviously love each other! And you behave like a love-sick teenager believing you're so responsible-" She said the last part with a mocking voice. "But you only want to feel good about yourself and evaporate all guilt! Well, guess what, Senju, there is guilt in relationships. There is guilt, and hardships, and self-sacrifice. You're wasting your time. You're wasting my time! And, by God, you're wasting the time of that precious young boy of yours, too. Man up, for fucks sake!"

I was quiet, taking every blow she gave me. And I realised she was right. I realised she was absolutely right. What the hell had I been doing? I'd wasted months of my short life not being with him. Suddenly, I couldn't stand it. I hung up the phone, took my car keys and left, not even caring to put on a coat or jacket.

It was pouring, and the parking connected to Madara's apartment was quite a distance away, so by the time I reached his porch, I was drenched, my hair glued to my face. Someone came out just as I was about to ring on the bell to his apartment, so I sneaked into the stairhouse and ran up until I saw his name on the mailbox. I knocked rapidly on the door, panting a little from having climbed the stairs.

And he opened.

He looked adorable in his Adidas sweatpants and a large, black band-T-shirt and his hair in a messy French braid. His eyes darted this way and that, wondering who it was.

But I noticed something else, something that made my heart sink.

Eric was on the floor on his living room, placing out decks to a board game they were setting up to play.

"Hashi..?" Madara said.

"Sorry, I'll- Umm, I'll come back." I knew I wouldn't.

I turned to leave.

"Hashi, wait!"

But I was already going down the stairs, out in the rain, all the way to my car where I sat down and drove back home, humiliated.

I sat on my sofa reading an arts article with a cup of tea, my hair in a towel after I had showered when I came back home. Two hours had passed since I knocked on Madara's door and the humiliation was slowly ebbing away. I didn't know what I had expected, but I had been surprised to find Eric there. Which was silly of me, of course. I knew they were close. If they were alone with each other, chances were they slept together, too...

I sighed and put the article down. I didn't understand a word it said, anyway, since my mind was elsewhere.

Suddenly, there was a harsh knock on my door, making me jump. I stood still, contemplating. No-one ever knocked on my door. Apparently, I was hesitating for too long because there was another, sharper, more impatient knock. I went and opened.

Outside stood Madara, his hair dripping wet, panting, his black T-shirt clinging to him, his Adidas trousers switched for a pair of white jeans, that had become see-through in the rain. Damn, that's nice...

He looked furious.

"Listen, you little fucker", he said angrily, pointing his finger at my chest, forcing himself into my apartment. "How dare you come knock on my door and then just leave like that? Have you any idea how humiliating that was? What the hell was that all about!?"

I just stared at him, surprised at this display of outrage.

You have a problem with Eric or something?" I was taken aback. He had hit the nail on the head. "Because guess what, we're best friends. And guess what, we fucked one." I jerked. "He fucked me on his living room floor and it was fucking amazing and I'll tell you all the details about what he did to me with his fingers and his mouth but guess what, you complete case, it didn't happen again because I was in love with you!" He stopped at this, panting. "I still am..." he said, quieter now. But then he started shouting again. "And I don't give a fuck that you have cancer and are going to die soon, but you have to make up your fucking mind because you're wasting my fucking time!"

And with that, he lunged at me and connected our lips.

The kiss was furious, desperate, and for the first time his tongue dominated mine. I let him, surrendering, dragged him with me to my couch where I sat down and pulled him into my lap so he sat on his knees, one leg on each side of my thighs. He was literally eating me up, and I was gladly eaten.

We kissed and kissed, him moaning, me grunting, hungrily, sloppily, sucking each other's tongues, licking each other's lips, a trail of saliva carelessly running down both of our chins. For half an hour, it went on. We broke free from time to time just to breathe, but then dove right back into it. It was like taken out of a porn film and we soon found us naked on my floorboards, a sweaty mess, out breaths coming out in hot puffs that blended together between our faces that were only a breath apart.

"We need to talk", Madara said.

"Yes", I agreed.

Then I dove my tongue right back into his mouth and twirled.