XaiJu
SixSpades
SixSpades

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Have You Ever Had a Frog in Your Throat?

By CATHEXIS

When it came to romance Haruto Nakamura learned very early that his life was destined to be vaguely—and often quite publicly— embarrassing. In kindergarten when Mark Contrera refused to be his boyfriend in front of the whole class because “boys can be friends but not boyfriends, stupid,” it had been the first of many lovelorn trials and misadventures Haruto’s gentle soul would endure.

In sixth grade, he was caught kissing Andrew Reed backstage during the school production of The Frog Prince. Andrew had been wearing a gold paper crown and green face paint, and though Haruto had sworn up and down that they hadn’t done anything wrong the evidence had literally been all over his mouth. Mrs. Lehman had called them both to the music room after curtain call and berated them about what the school considered “inappropriate behavior” between students. Haruto had burst into mortified tears while Andrew stood by and fidgeted. Haruto was sent home with a note for his parents and Andrew never talked to him again.

By his sophomore year of high school Haruto understood this was how life was going to unfold for him; while he couldn’t help his embarrassment about the awkward things he experienced he refused to be embarrassed about who he was. He couldn’t change the fact that he was gay, but he avoided any hardcore bullying by working hard to bench press his own bodyweight. It was also the beginning of what his cousin Akiko called his “glow-up.” His good looks were why Malik James practically begged to give Haruto a handjob behind the gym only to later stand him up for homecoming. Getting blown off by someone he liked wasn’t anything new, but the handjob had been a revelation.

***

During Akiko’s senior year, Haruto’s aunt and uncle discovered she’d secretly applied to cosmetology school and had been spending her afternoons cutting her classmates’ hair instead of writing application essays to Stanford or UC Berkeley. They refused to pay for Aki’s education because she’d chosen to follow her passions over parental bragging rights and that filled Haruto with a heavy sense of responsibility. Luckily, he’d been old enough to take care of himself when he’d dropped out of pre-med two years earlier and fallen out of favor with his dad, and when Aki’s parents officially kicked her out he stepped in.

Haruto’s work as a physical therapy assistant paid for their little bungalow and comfortably covered all their essentials, but Aki insisted that she be allowed to contribute while she worked through school and built her resume. Haruto readily admitted that he had about as much interior decorating sense as he did fashion sense—which was to say not much of either—so he let her have free rein over their place. When Aki demanded he grow his hair out so that she could use him as a hair practice dummy, he let her have free rein over that as well.

Which was exactly how he ended up in situations like this.

“Hold still unless you want me to brand you with this thing,” Aki groused from over Haruto’s shoulder. He listened to the clack-clack of the curling iron clip and felt a gentle tug, followed by warmth against his scalp where his cousin pinned a heated coil of hair in place. 

“Y’know, when you told me you needed me to sit down I thought you were about to tell me someone died, not that you wanted emergency photos for your portfolio,” Haruto said. He was planted in the shitty kitchen chair with uneven legs and his ass was going numb but he did his best to hold still. “Not that I mind, but is there a reason why you can’t do this on yourself?”

“My hair’s way too short. I need someone with long hair for this.” 

Haruto squinted at the mirror propped up on their retro linoleum-topped kitchen table and examined the tidy bundles of hair covering half his head in neat sections. “So we’re doing, what, small cherub curls? Ringlets?”

“Hardly. I’m aiming for a gig with this local burlesque production. Gotta prove I understand their vibe.” She looped up another section of hair into a neat whorl. “I’m giving you Veronica Lake waves.”

“So I’m gonna be a bad bitch, huh?” Haruto asked.

“The baddest. If it turns out well.” Aki agreed. 

Haruto fidgeted, trying to check his phone without moving his head or letting Aki see too much of the screen. No new texts.

Behind him, Aki sighed. “All right, I’ll bite. What’s eating you? You normally fall asleep when I’m doing your hair.” 

“Well, there’s this guy,” Haruto said. “Jeff.”

“Right.” Aki counted off on her fingers. “Green eyes, tall, dimples, killer smile, tore his ACL, plans to adopt a dog and name it Akira? That Jeff?”

Haruto stared at her in the mirror. “How the hell do you know all that?” 

“Dude, you’ve only been talking about him for, like, six weeks. So, what? Did he ask you out?” 

“Yeah.” Haruto ducked his head and grinned down at his phone. “You said I should try changing up my usual routine. Jeff is not my usual.”

“Hate to break it to you but your ‘usual’ is a very, very low bar to clear,” Aki waved the curling iron dismissively. “Which, hey, consenting adults can do whatever but, since hooking up with every douchebag who hits on you didn’t seem to be getting you the results you want, I thought my suggestion that you try changing things up seemed reasonable.” 

Haruto ignored the hot blush he could feel crawling up his neck. “I’m serious! It’s different this time. It’s not like I’ve been using his therapy as an excuse to flirt. I’m not dumb enough to get my ass fired for a date. He didn’t even ask for my number until after we finished his final session.” 

“Oh yeah, weeks of hands-on help and that big dumb smile you get when you think someone’s cute. Doesn’t sound flirty at all,” Aki snorted. She cut off Haruto’s sputtered protest. “I’m not saying you weren’t doing your job. I’m just saying you’re too pretty for your own good and about as subtle as a car crash.” 

“Hey,” Haruto said. “I’m getting better in my old age. I think.”

“If by better you mean, ‘I can see that shit from space,’ then sure.”

Haruto grumbled but didn’t argue. Playing it cool was not his strong suit and he knew it. 

“So you’re sure about this Jeff guy, then? He’s not gonna ask you to pop his cherry and then make it his Facebook status—”

“That happened one time!”

“—and then tag you on it, right?” Aki said, cackling.

“You’re never gonna let that die, are you?” Haruto groaned. “Jeff is not the type to do that shit. For one thing he’s actually a couple years older than me and actually has his life together.” Haruto twirled his phone in his hand. “I really think he could be boyfriend material.”

Aki hissed like she’d burned herself. 

“What?”

“Don’t say that,” she said. “It never ends well when you say that.” She sketched a hasty sign of the cross over herself. “I think we should burn some sage tonight.”

“Pretty sure you just did that backwards. Also you’re not Catholic. I don’t think it counts.”

“You need all the help you can get. Be grateful, not hateful, bro.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Haruto rolled his eyes. 

“Oh!” Aki said, apropos of nothing, “wait here!” She dropped the curling iron on its insulation mat and jogged off towards her bedroom.

Haruto touched his nubbly head. “Not like I’m going anywhere like this,” he called after her.

She returned quickly with a box, gift wrapped in obnoxious lime green and orange striped paper. She put it on the table in front of him. “I was going to give this to you for your birthday on Saturday, but maybe you’ll want to wear them tomorrow night? For luck, and stuff.”

Haruto blinked. “Aki, what the hell,” he said, but he was smiling. 

Aki waved an impatient hand towards the box. “Open it!”

Haruto ripped open the paper, lifted the lid of the box inside, and stopped dead. A pair of Zanotti hi-tops gleamed up at him, black leather covered in a solid glittering rainbow of tiny crystals with thick white soles and shiny silver zippers.

“Aki,” he breathed, hand hovering reverently over the shoes. “These are gay as hell.” 

“As are you,” she said with a shit-eating grin. “If the shoe fits...”

“And expensive as hell. Seriously, this is too—you gotta let me pay at least half.”

“You already pay for everything. Besides, I technically didn’t even pay for these. Remember that gig I did a couple weeks back?” She shrugged. “They had a lot of clothes and stuff left when they wrapped up. I asked Z if I could take these instead of having him cut me a check.”

Haruto chewed his lip. The fact that Aki had taken the shoes in lieu of proper payment somehow lent the gift greater significance than if she’d paid for them outright. 

“You should’ve taken the check, you know. You’re supposed to be saving up for Fashion Week,” he said. It was a halfhearted protest at best.

“I’m rooming with other stylists and interns, I’ll be fine,” she waved a hand dismissively. “Just promise me you won’t actually use them for running.”

“I know better than that. These deserve their own display case.”

“It cracks me up that you have no sense of fashion except when it comes to shoes. We really need to buy you some jeans or something. Your wardrobe is ninety-five percent knitwear and spandex.”

“I can’t work out in jeans.”

“You say that like it’s a convincing argument.”

“Well, it seems like I don’t need a sense of fashion as long as I have you.”

“Damn right. Now sit up straight so I can finish turning you into the baddest bitch on the block.”

***

Thirty minutes before he was due to leave for his date with Jeff, Haruto emerged from his room and attempted to scoot around Aki as she tinkered with a pink vintage hair dryer on the dining room table. Aki took one look at his outfit and frogmarched him back into his room. He plonked himself onto his bed and watched her root around in his closet. 

“Aki, I’m gonna be late. What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“You are going on your first actual, proper date probably since high school. You need to dress for the occasion. Except for the shoes, which, as we know, were expertly chosen and lovingly provided by me,” Aki gestured in Haruto’s general direction, “those basketball shorts ain’t gonna work.”

“We’re just getting coffee!” Haruto protested. “Y’know, keep things casual? And besides, everything I’m wearing is new!”

“I know you like your moisture-wicking whatever, but Under Armour and Nike are staying home tonight.” Aki pulled out a pair of black joggers Haruto didn’t recognize from the depths of his closet and critically examined a dark T-shirt that still had the tags on. 

“That shirt doesn’t fit me. It’s too tight in the arms.”

Aki smirked and threw the shirt and pants at him. “Perfect. Get changed.” 

***

Jeff suggested they meet for coffee at a local place. Haruto parked a short block away and saw that Jeff was already sitting at a table outside, frowning as he tapped something out on his phone. When he looked up and saw Haruto, however, his face broke into a wide grin and he waved. Haruto grinned back, tucking his hair behind one ear. 

“Hi,” Haruto said, sliding into the seat across from him. “Been waiting long?”

“Nope, just got here,” Jeff said, tucking his phone into his pocket. He looked Haruto over. “Nice shirt,” he said with a bashful smile. “I mean, it’s nice seeing you out of your work polo.”

Haruto sent out a silent thank-you to Aki. “Thanks. You look great, too,” he said, trying not to grin like an idiot. Jeff looked more than great, actually. His dirty blond hair was casually styled and he was sporting a five o’clock shadow that made him look a little more roguish than Haruto was used to. On anyone else, the casual tee and ripped jeans would’ve been that just-rolled-out-of-bed look, but on Jeff it somehow worked.

Haruto glanced down and nodded toward Jeff’s leg. “How’s the knee?”

“Pretty good,” Jeff said. “I go back to work on Monday. Sometimes it aches after a long day, but so far nothing too bad. And before you ask, yes, I’ve been doing my follow-up exercises.”

“Sorry,” Haruto ducked his head and laughed. “Sometimes it’s hard to turn my brain off from work. Especially when I’m with my favorite client.” He shot his best flirty smile up at Jeff.

“Okay, but you are definitely off the clock now, and I am definitely no longer your client.” Jeff said, reaching forward to lay his hand over Haruto’s. “I’m really glad you said yes to our date tonight.”

“I’m really glad you asked me.”

“Have you been here before?”

Haruto shook his head. “No, but I’ve heard great things. What’s good here?” he asked. 

“Everything. This place is amazing,” Jeff said, clearly enthused. “Actually, do you mind if I just order for you? I think I know what you might like.”

Haruto was charmed by the idea that Jeff might already know him well enough to predict his tastes. “Sure, I don’t have any allergies or anything, so surprise me,” he said.

“Awesome,” Jeff said. “Be right back.”

While Haruto waited for Jeff to bring back their order, he thought about whipping out his phone and texting Aki updates, but decided against it. He suspected she’d just yell at him for having poor date etiquette. He contented himself instead with admiring Jeff through the cafe window as he stood in line to pay, but his eyes wandered to the handsome older man taking Jeff’s money. Haruto focus, you’re on a date.

Jeff returned shortly, setting a steaming cup in front of Haruto with a smile. “Sencha,” he announced. “It’s amazingly well-balanced for a public cafe.” Jeff looked so pleased that Haruto didn’t have the heart to tell him he wasn’t much of a tea person. He certainly didn’t dislike it, and the cafe’s preparation was by no means undrinkable, so he saw no cause for complaint. He tried not to stare longingly at Jeff’s iced coffee.

They sat outside as the sun sank lower in the sky, chatting about Haruto’s job, his family, his education. Jeff wanted to know if Haruto ever went to Japan to visit his grandparents and what traditions their family observed, and talked animatedly about his own trips to Japan and China and Korea. Soon Haruto realized night had fallen. 

They finished their drinks slowly. When Haruto stretched his legs under the table and brushed his leg against Jeff’s calf, Jeff didn’t pull away. They shared a secret smile.

“You wanna get out of here?” Jeff asked.

“Yeah,” Haruto said, probably a little too eagerly, and felt his face heat. 

Haruto took their empty cups inside to dispose of them and use the restroom. Jeff was frowning at his phone again when he came back out, but his expression cleared quickly when Haruto sidled up to him. “Everything okay?” he asked.

Jeff put his phone away and smirked. “It is now,” he said, and Haruto followed Jeff to the corner crosswalk, butterflies in his stomach.

“Where are we headed?” Haruto asked.

“I just thought we might go for a walk,” Jeff said. 

“That won’t be too much for your knee?” 

“Nah,” Jeff said, then hesitated for a beat before giving Haruto a shy, dimpled smile. “Also, my place is just on the other side of the park.”

“Sounds perfect,” Haruto said, grinning wide. “Lead the way.”

As they walked and talked, Haruto kept an eye on Jeff’s gait surreptitiously, looking for any sign of a limp or strain. Jeff moved with ease, giving no indication that his knee bothered him in the slightest.

“Haruto?”

“Sorry, what?” Haruto blinked, suddenly aware he’d lost the thread of their conversation. 

Jeff chuckled. “I know that look. I’m fine, I swear.” He stopped and pulled Haruto into the shadow of a tree, warm fingers circling his wrist. “All thanks to you.”

Haruto shook his head. “You’re the one who put in the work. I just made sure you had a good support system along the way.” He smiled down at his ridiculously sparkly shoes. “I know you’re not technically my client anymore, but I’m glad to see you haven’t had any setbacks.”

Jeff reached out and tucked a loose strand of hair behind Haruto’s pierced ear. “You’re so sweet,” he whispered. “It makes me want to do bad things to you.”

“Oh,” Haruto said hopefully, moving closer. “Did you wanna start now?”

Jeff’s laugh was warm. “Soon,” he said, before turning to lead Haruto further down the path through the park.

Haruto could practically hear Aki’s voice in his head, admonishing him: Can’t you at least wait until the second date to suck a guy’s dick?

No, Haruto thought. No, I cannot. His love life was a nearly unbroken string of one-and-done encounters or short-lived friends-with-benefits arrangements, so sex always seemed like a case of now or never. He watched Jeff amble slowly through the gloom, apparently in no hurry to bring their evening to a close. Maybe this time was going to be different. Maybe this time he’d get a second date as well as get to second base. 

***

They crossed through the park, bodies brushing close as they moved in and out of shadow. It had rained earlier in the day and now the night closed around them pleasantly cool, fragrant with the scent of leaves and earth. The distance between the coffee shop and the other side of the park wasn’t great, but time seemed to hang suspended as they walked. Haruto wasn’t used to this sort of delayed gratification. Their easy pace built the anticipation to a low thrumming in his blood that he swore he could feel in his fingertips.

Jeff resided in a ground floor unit located in a three story apartment building on the east side of the park. Professionally manicured flower beds lined the walkways and tidy, low shrubs ran along sides of the building. Sometime during their stroll through the park, Jeff had twined his fingers with Haruto’s, refusing to give them up even when they reached the door to his place and he had to unlock it one-handed. He brushed a kiss over Haruto’s knuckles and led him inside. Haruto bit back a grin and followed.

Jeff shut the door behind them and fiddled with the lock and security chain while Haruto bent to remove his new shoes. Jeff kicked his own off and Haruto noticed there were a lot of shoes by the doorway, more than one man usually owned, and smiled to himself. Maybe this was another thing they had in common.

“You want a beer?” Jeff offered.

“Just water,” Haruto said. He usually liked to get a bit tipsy on a night out, but Aki’s voice rang through his head with the words proper date and he was determined to not fuck it up. Tonight was not a night for bad decision-making and whiskey dick. 

He wandered into the living room just off the kitchen. It was tidy; a paper-shaded Ikea floor lamp sat backed by a shoji screen in one corner and a print of a tiger done in a smeared ink wash hung over the burgundy sofa. Two curving samurai swords and what looked like a replica lightsaber sat in brackets over the mantle. The neutral beige carpet still had fresh vacuum tracks in it, and Haruto smiled at the thought of Jeff cleaning up before inviting him over. He could barely remember the details of where or how most of his hookups had lived, but he was certain none of them had more than cramped, cluttered apartments or noisy college student hovels. 

This was all-new territory for Haruto. Making conversation with Jeff was pretty easy at this point; they’d had weeks of one-on-one conversation over the course of Jeff’s physio sessions, but aside from some flirty caresses over coffee and holding hands in the park, all of their physical interaction to date had been strictly platonic. Now that they were finally alone in the dim interior of Jeff’s apartment Haruto didn’t know how to move things along in a sexy direction. Somehow walking up to Jeff in the kitchen and dropping to his knees seemed like it might ruin the mood, but Haruto didn’t really have any opening gambits that were particularly subtle. Usually, when Haruto got with a guy sex was never a question; it was the point. Aside from bringing Haruto back to his place, Jeff hadn’t really given any indication whether sex was on the menu for tonight, and the uncertainty made Haruto a little anxious.  

Jeff came back with a chilled bottle of water and watched with hooded eyes as Haruto gulped half of it down. When Haruto capped the bottle, Jeff took it from him and brought a thumb up to the corner of Haruto’s lips to catch a stray drop of water. He smiled down at Haruto. “I’m really glad you came out with me tonight,” he said, looping his hands low around Haruto’s waist to bring their hips together. Jeff’s erection was hot and obvious where he was pressing it against Haruto. “You made it pretty hard to concentrate on my therapy these last couple weeks, if you know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” Haruto said, feeling the blood leaving his brain for all destinations south. “I think I’m reading between the lines here.”

Jeff stroked a hand through Haruto’s hair, watching the strands slip through his fingers. “I’m not used to seeing you with your hair all loose,” he said. He leaned in and sucked lightly on Haruto’s lower lip. “I like the way you look in my place.”

Haruto shivered and opened his mouth for the slick thrust of Jeff’s tongue, their lips sliding together as they kissed. It gave him a warm thrill to think about how it sounded like Jeff really wanted him here, how he might even be looking forward to repeat performances of tonight before they’d even done anything. Jeff sunk his hand deeper into Haruto’s hair and pulled, murmuring against his neck how sweet and soft and easy Haruto was and Haruto arched to give him more access to his skin. A lot of the guys he’d hooked up with liked to mutter dirty talk while he got them off, but none of them really went in for verbal foreplay. He wondered just how much he’d been missing.

Jeff slipped his hands under Haruto’s shirt to lift it over his head and off, tossing it carelessly over his shoulder, eyes roaming over Haruto’s tightly muscled chest and abdomen. “Goddamn,” he breathed. “I am really not used to this.” He ran his thumbs along the deep lines of Haruto’s obliques, dipping low into the waistband of his joggers. His eyes caught on the small piercings that glinted from Haruto’s nipples. “Oh, fuck,” Jeff groaned. “You little slut. So hot.” He leaned in to tug at one silver barbell with his teeth. Haruto felt his cock throb in response. 

Fuck it, Haruto thought and dropped to his knees.

“That’s it, yeah,” Jeff said, getting one hand in Haruto’s hair and hurriedly getting his cock out with the other. He jacked himself a few times while Haruto tugged his briefs further down to mouth at his balls. The grip in Haruto’s hair tightened. “Come on. Get it in your mouth.”

Haruto’s heart thudded hard in his chest. He gripped Jeff’s dick with one hand and leaned back to open his mouth. 

Suddenly, there came the unmistakable sound of a key turning in the lock and the squeak of hinges, followed by a curse as the front door was stopped by the chain. They both froze.

“Oh shit,” Jeff said, his face panicked. He backed away from Haruto and started tucking himself back into his pants. “You gotta go. He wasn’t supposed to be home tonight.”

“What?”

“Just put your shirt on!” Jeff hissed, swiping it from where it had fallen and tossing it at Haruto. The chain rattled loudly as someone tried the door again.

“Jeff?” a male voice said. “Why’s the chain on the door?”

“You have a roommate?” Haruto asked, confused. Jeff had never mentioned he was living with someone. 

“Fuck. Fuck!”Jeff muttered, ducking to check his appearance in the mirror and rake his fingers through his hair where Haruto had grabbed it. He ignored Haruto and yelled in the direction of the door, “I’ll be right there!”

“What’s going on?” Haruto whispered. He watched, wide-eyed, as Jeff turned and pushed past him to shove open the nearest window.

“You have to leave,” Jeff hissed, grabbing his arm. “It’s my boyfriend.”

“Your what?!” Haruto yelped.

“Keep your voice down!” Jeff whispered angrily. 

“Oh, you piece of shit, do you have a guy in there?!” Jeff’s apparent boyfriend yelled through the crack as he banged the chained door impatiently. “Jeff, I swear to God—!”

“Go! Just go!” Jeff was practically pushing him through the open window head-first and Haruto couldn’t find it in himself to resist; he suddenly wanted to be as far away from this situation as possible. He clambered out of the window and into the low, trimmed shrubbery of the side yard, catching his foot on the sill and landing on his ass in damp mulch that smelled of manure. Wetness seeped through his socks and the seat of his pants and the window slammed shut above his head. 

“Wait, I need my shoes!” Haruto said, kneeling up to pound on the glass with one hand. “They were a—”

Jeff yanked the curtains shut.

“—gift,” Haruto sighed. For one breathless moment his emotions wobbled on the edge of something hot and queasy. It felt like frustration, and maybe a little like self-pity, and it ached like an old injury suddenly wrenched open. He pulled his muddied shirt back on, taking a deep breath that left him in a shaky, humorless laugh. Well. He’d certainly ended the evening on his knees. Nothing to see here. All according to plan.

He trudged through the yard, eyes on the ground as he crossed the street into the park, and tried to avoid walking over broken glass or stepping in dog shit. He really should’ve seen this coming. Hadn’t he learned early in life that romance just wasn’t something he got to have? Every time he tried to move counter to the hand fate had dealt, the universe saw fit to yank everything from under him and make him the butt of a joke no one could laugh at. 

He managed to make it back to his car without needing an emergency tetanus shot. He drove himself home, the pedals feeling foreign under his socked foot.

***

Aki was curled around a pint of ice cream in front of a rerun of Deadliest Catch when Haruto got home. She flopped her head over the back of the sofa and waved her spoon in greeting as he bent in the entryway to remove his soggy socks. 

“Hey! How was your—” Aki stopped and took in his mud-streaked knees and dirtied shirt. “Shit, did you get mugged?”

“I guess you could say I got ambushed.”

“What?”

“He had a boyfriend already. Made me climb out the window.”

Aki stared. “Piece of shit,” she swore quietly. “Want me to slash his tires?”

Haruto gave her a wan smile. “I just want a shower,” he said, patting her shoulder as he walked behind the couch. Her chilled fingers briefly touched his.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Yeah. Me too.”

He stood under the hot spray longer than necessary, willing the water to wash him clean of this disaster of a date. Jeff was a jackass. Okay. Fine. No second date. Nothing he wasn’t used to.

Somehow, though, it was worse this time. Haruto had been misled by plenty of people before—nobody he’d ever met was completely honest when negotiating a Grindr hookup—but this stung. He’d genuinely liked Jeff, or at least the nice-guy facade Jeff had presented before revealing himself to be a world-class douchebag. He’d invested himself in something that was barely more than the idea of a relationship and, after six weeks of friendly acquaintance, he’d come out at a loss. It really, really sucked.

He pressed his forehead to the tile and sighed. Okay. There was no point in brooding over this. He still had to get his shoes back, but otherwise he had to accept that this was just going to be part of putting himself out there for more than some random dicking down. If he wanted any hope of a relationship that went beyond a bathroom stall blowjob, he was probably going to have to suck it up—no pun intended—and try again. There were worse things than blue balls and a bit of heartache. 

The soothing heat and pounding water of the shower eventually distilled the stinging disappointment of the evening into a vague unhappy ache. He turned the water off and gave himself a careless rubdown with a towel before wandering back to his bedroom. He hit the switch for the ceiling fan and flopped naked on the bed, content to let himself air-dry the rest of the way and not caring about the wet spot his damp hair was going to leave. 

Now that he was home and clean and comfortable, he found that his embarrassment at falling for Jeff’s schtick was stronger than the hurt of being lied to. He sighed. Even when he really tried to do things right, he still ended up the butt of a joke he should’ve seen coming a mile away. This had to be the most epic fail so far in his history of dating disasters: six weeks of flirting only to be unwittingly cast as a homewrecker, no orgasms, landing on his ass in manure, and, worst of all, losing the amazing gift his cousin had given him. Maybe he should’ve let Aki burn some sage after all.

He absently rubbed a thumb back-and-forth just under his navel, letting the cool air of the fan drift over his body. Against all logic, Haruto still sort of wished he’d gotten his mouth around Jeff’s dick for at least a few minutes and then immediately hated himself for it. This was his problem. This was exactly the kind of thinking that had seen him through 27 years of life with no serious relationships. No more sexual favors for douchebags, he decided, no matter how much he enjoyed sucking cock. 

Haruto let his hand drift lower to stroke slowly over his dick. Despite everything that had happened tonight, he was still a little hard. He considered just hitting the lights, turning over, and ignoring his boner. The fact that his dick was still up for some action after such a shitty evening made him feel just a little bit pathetic, but the evening's shitness was reason enough to let himself have something nice. He let his legs fall open a little wider, started to feel his pulse throb in his groin, and thumbed lightly at his cock, right under the head where it felt good. All he wanted now was to let go.

Haruto knew he was weak to physical pleasure. He loved any activity that let him feel the full experience of putting his body through its paces, that let him move on instinct with repetitive motion. Running, lifting weights, sports, sex; it all got his blood pumping, gave him a rush of endorphins, let him go somewhere wordless and quiet in his head. The slide of sweat down his skin, the impact of bodies colliding, the muscular flex of a tongue or a cock in his mouth; once Haruto was warmed up, nearly all physical sensation felt good to him in some way. 

He imagined his ideal partner. His fantasy was something he would only ever admit to himself, at times like this, when he imagined a much older man with kind eyes that crinkled at the corners and soft lips that whispered love and praise against Haruto’s skin. The taboo excited him. He imagined an amalgamation of male authority figures from his past--coaches and teachers and physicians--as he slipped two fingers into his mouth, sucking lightly as he massaged his own tongue with rhythmic pressure.

Open up now, he heard in his mind and imagined a strong hand rubbing the slick tip of a cock against his face. Haruto ran his wet fingers over his lips, breathing hard. My sweet boy. He imagined this older man pinning his hands above his head while thrusting down his throat in slow and languorous strokes. He nipped at his fingertips and knuckles, imagining a deep voice coaxing him to take more, to suck a little harder, be a good boy now, Haru. I know you love it but don’t come yet.

He moaned and rolled to one side, trapping a pillow under his hips so he could fuck against it, fingers still in his mouth and one hand now free to pluck at the nipple Jeff had bitten earlier. He reveled in the loss of control his fantasy gave him and could almost feel those strong hands around his wrists.

Haruto moaned softly, yearning for a cock that wasn’t there, and reached down to pull roughly at his dick, working his foreskin back-and-forth in tight little jerks over the sensitive tip. He jammed a third finger into his mouth, his knuckles too bony against his palate to feel right, but the stretch of his lips was good. He slathered his fingers with saliva, drool escaping from the corner of his mouth as he tried to swallow, his hot, panting breath washing over his hand.  

He craved the feeling of a hot, hard body moving over him; wanting it so badly as he spent all over his hand and stomach. He slowed his strokes, hips pumping hard off the bed, reveling in a few last good fucks into his hand as he got himself utterly filthy with his own cum. He slumped into the bed, boneless and panting, jizz smeared all over his softening cock, his belly and his hand. He brought his cum-covered hand up to his mouth and licked it clean, sucking slowly on his fingers, imagining they belonged to someone else, imagining a hand in his hair, petting him gently, imagining, you did so well, Haruto. My pretty pet

He was going to have to shower again, but he didn’t care. He laid there, thinking about every time he’d gotten on his knees for a guy in a filthy club bathroom, in his college dorm showers, in some dark stairwell. Haruto had never been brave enough to head off alone to one of those hookup spots in the woods that guys sometimes talked about, but now he thought about that, too. He thought about the next time he’d get to have sex with someone else, wondering if it’d be at the end of another ‘proper date,’ or in the back room of a club, no names exchanged between them. He thought about the hot charge he always got in his gut when a dude gave him the eye and nodded to the nearest concealed corner. 

He fell asleep, and didn’t think about Jeff at all.

***

One week later Haruto found himself pacing outside Jeff’s apartment. He knew he was setting himself up to fail in the most awkward, embarrassing way possible but he was a pro at awkward and embarrassing, and this entire thing was Jeff’s fault to begin with. For once he could see the laugh the universe was about to have at his expense, and here he was strapping on his dancing shoes anyway.

Because yeah. Shoes. He wanted his damn shoes back.

Jeff had ghosted him for the better part of a week, ducking his calls and leaving his texts unread, even though Haruto had made it perfectly clear that all he wanted was to retrieve his shoes. He even offered to swing by when no one was home if Jeff would just leave them in a bag outside the door, but all he got was radio silence. 

Haruto startled at the sound of jangling keys behind him. A young woman in an oversized hoodie and UGG boots had entered the corridor and was unlocking the door to the neighboring apartment. She eyed him suspiciously and Haruto tried not to cringe. Great, he’d been reduced from phone-stalking to actual stalking now. Pride or no pride, the shoes had been a gift from Aki and he wasn’t about to leave them to be sold on eBay or thrown in the trash. 

Haruto steeled himself. He needed to get a move on before someone called the police on him for loitering or something. 

He lifted a hand to knock but hesitated at the last second, choosing instead to try the door first. Against all odds, it was unlocked. He opened the door quietly, and spied his shoes just inside where he had left them.

Maybe this will be easy, Haruto thought. He opened the door a little wider and reached, kneeling down. Quick and painless.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” a voice screeched. “Get out of my house!”

Haruto nearly jumped out of his skin. He looked up and saw someone—not Jeff, presumably Jeff’s boyfriend—standing not ten feet from the entryway, glaring at him. 

“I just came for my shoes,” Haruto said quickly, heart pounding. He opened the door the rest of the way and grabbed his shoes quickly, preparing to run.

“Wait!” 

A firm grip landed on Haruto’s arm before he could make his escape. Haruto turned, ready to defend himself if he had to, but the guy didn’t seem to want a fight. Instead, he just looked tired. 

“You’re the one from last week,” he said.

Haruto nodded. “Uh, yeah,” he said. He was always shit at confrontation. He clutched his shoes against his chest like a shield. 

Meeting his gaze properly, Haruto realized Jeff’s boyfriend looked like a college kid. He was a couple inches shorter than Haruto and slim-built. Black hair, almond eyes. Pretty. Textbook Asian twink, Haruto thought with a wince. A queasy feeling wound through his gut as he remembered some of the things Jeff had said on their date and how good he thought Haruto looked in his apartment full of cheap Asian knockoff decor.

Jeff’s boyfriend didn’t say anything immediately, just looked Haruto up and down with a grim expression, sizing him up. He took in Haruto's long hair and piercings and muscular frame. Haruto saw the tremble in his lower lip. 

“I didn’t know,” Haruto said after a moment. 

The kid rolled his eyes and looked off down the hallway. “It doesn’t make it any better,” he said with a huff. He flicked a sharp look back at Haruto. “It didn’t have to be you, y’know. For him, it could have been anyone.”

The words were meant to sting, and they would have, maybe, if Haruto had heard them a week ago. Now, he was just confused. “Why not dump him?”

“Tried that. Didn’t stick. We’ll work it out. We have before.”

“So, this is a habit with him,” Haruto said carefully. It wasn’t a question.

“Habits can be broken.” 

Haruto was obviously no expert when it came to long-term relationships, but this seemed off even to him. Part of working with his clients at the gym involved impressing upon them the idea that every person was responsible for their own improvement; they had to want it, otherwise they would never make any progress. “I know I don’t know you,” he said, “but I feel like maybe that shouldn’t have to be your job.”

“Well, that’s why I’m with him and you’re not. He needs me.”

Haruto held up a placating hand. “I never would have gone out with him if I’d known,” he said. He meant it in more ways than one, now. 

The kid just shrugged one shoulder and rolled his eyes again, hurt evident on his face. He looked achingly young. He was probably no older than Aki.

“You don’t deserve this,” Haruto said, feeling oddly protective towards this stranger who undoubtedly wanted nothing more to do with him. “You could have more.”  

Jeff’s boyfriend laughed humorlessly. “We all settle for less than we deserve. I’m keeping what I’ve got.”

Given where he was standing and with whom, there wasn’t much Haruto could say to that.

***

Haruto cut back through the park to where Aki was waiting for him at the coffee shop. She was sitting at an outside bistro table nursing a cold brew, her hair teased into an impressive fauxhawk and a pair of large black sunglasses perched on her nose. She slid a soy iced coffee across the table to him when he sat down.

Aki nodded at the shoes. “I see you got them,” she said. “Was he there?”

“No, but I ran into the boyfriend.”

“Uh.” She looked at him over the tops of her sunglasses, eyebrows climbing skyward. “How did that go?”

“The way it always goes with me,” he sighed. “The door was unlocked so I reached in to grab them and he caught me red-handed.” 

Aki spluttered into her coffee and coughed into a napkin. “Oh my God, Haru,” she laughed. “That is so you. Every word of that is so very you.” She leaned back in her chair. “So? Details! Did you guys have it out or did you just bolt?”

Haruto gave her a full play-by-play of his encounter with The Boyfriend.

“Damn,” Aki said when he was done. “Poor bitch. He oughta just bail.”

“I pretty much told him that. He seemed convinced that Jeff was the best he was gonna get.” Haruto shrugged. “I felt kinda sorry for the guy. He’s probably younger than you, probably still taking classes locally, and he’s stuck with some shithead who makes a habit of cheating on him.” Haruto may have been the one to land on his ass in the mud, but at least he was getting to walk away from this whole Jeff situation. 

He swirled the ice in his drink. “It does kinda make me think twice about trying to date someone for real, though. Like, is it even worth it?”

“Whoa, dude, pump the breaks a sec,” Aki said, smacking his arm. “Just because your first time in grownup-date-land was—admittedly—a disaster, doesn’t mean it’s always going to be that way. I can almost guarantee you that most of the guys you’ve hooked up with were no less douchey than Jeff, but you were never around them long enough to get the bigger picture. You just need to refine your man-hunting instincts.” She paused to take a sip of her coffee. “Also, quit thinking with your dick.”

“I feel like you’re telling me getting into a relationship is way messier than just hooking up with random people.”

“That is exactly what I’m telling you.” Aki saluted him with her drink. “Newsflash, my good bitch. People are messy as hell. Getting jizz on your favorite Adidas shirt is the least of your worries now.”

Haruto wrinkled his nose. “You’re four years younger than me. How do you know all of this and I don’t?”

“Because I was born a wise and wary cynic whereas you are one singing animal companion away from starring in your own Disney film.”

“My own disaster film, maybe,” Haruto snorted.

“We’ll find you your happily-ever-after, dude. Just keep in mind you don’t have to kiss all the frogs you meet, yeah? Hold yourself back a little bit. Learn to play the game like the rest of us.”

Haruto sighed. Mutual handjobs in a stairwell were so much easier than any of this. “Remind me why I’m doing this again,” he said, slumping in his chair.

Aki placed a hand on his arm and smiled gently. “Because you deserve more than what you’ve settled for, and you’re more than capable of getting it.” 

“Okay. Sounds fake, but okay.”

Aki kicked his chair. “You are an actual good person and you can literally crush a watermelon with your thighs. You ought to have someone bring you your terrible wheatgrass protein shakes in bed every morning and thank you for the privilege.” She stretched and stood up. “C’mon, shake a leg.”

“Where are we going?”

“We’re going home, we’re putting your Cinderella shoes away so that evil douchebag fuckboys can’t kidnap them, and then you’re going for a run.”

“Oh, is that what I’m doing?” Haruto laughed in spite of himself. He gathered up their empty cups to dispose of them.

“Yup. I know you. You’re incapable of moping and working out at the same time.”

“True. Maybe I’ll hit the trails near our place.”

Aki elbowed him lightly. “Just don’t go kissing any frogs you meet out in the woods.”

Haruto grinned. “No promises.”

Have You Ever Had a Frog in Your Throat?

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