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"I don't know, Oku. I'm not that much of a party guy", he sighed, imposing superiority. Acting as if the thrills corresponding to his age didn't interest him.
"I ain't either but", Okuyasu insisted, scooting closer into Josuke's personal space, "I mean, how could I know I'm not? Never really been ta one".
"You're not missing the great deal", Josuke shrugged.
"Ya said the same about that movie and I cried when I watched it-"
"Then go alone, bro, what do I tell you. I just don't wanna go".
He really wasn't a party guy. He loved dancing, he loved showing off, he liked to be stared at and desired. But there was always something about those parties that annoyed him. The constant pushing and pulling, the sexual nature of them, the sweating bodies pressing against each other, mouths with bad breath opening to receive whatever was willing to enter there. Josuke was a romantic guy. Love was something you gave to the one. Your body was the highest offer, a precious gift. And those parties showed the lowest of human carnality, he didn't like it. And he knew, with certainty, that Okuyasu wanted to go there for that precise reason. And it bothered him painfully. He surely could live watching other people giving into their desires, but Okuyasu was different. He made Okuyasu different in his head. He idolised the boy, expecting from him what he couldn't receive.
It didn't matter, whatever. Teenage was a wasteland. It was a pain. Nothing good came out of it.
"Yer sulking".
"I just hate when you insist after I say no", Josuke looked away.
"... Yer such a bore, Josuke".
Was he? Really, now? Okuyasu measured how interesting someone could be with how often they went to parties? Was that what his friendship was worth?
"Let's go to the motherfucking party", he frowned and winced right after, when Okuyasu slapped his back.
"That's my boy".
Pain. He wasn't his. Bullshit. Those things weren't possible. Not even in movies; movies like those always had sad endings.
The party wasn't a great deal after all. A regular house, lights off and replaced with neon lights. The kitchen table full of bottles, a huge bucket with ice containing drinks. And loud music. And dancing bodies.
At first, Okuyasu's excitement was visible. There were so many legs to look at, so many bouncing breasts and glossy lips.
"Man, this is HOT!", He yelled in Josuke's ear. The other looked away, blushing at the proximity, ignoring whatever feelings arose in his chest.
But after a while, when he didn't seem to fit in the dancefloor, when girls didn't react to his attempts for closeness and clumsy seduction, Okuyasu resigned and went back to Josuke, sitting with him on a sofa where minutes ago a couple was making out frantically. They had the decency to leave before performing the whole act there, at least. Josuke had witnessed the entire scene, trying to ignore it as he drank one can of whatever thing they put in front of him after the other. A pile of crashed cans was growing on the little table next to the sofa to his right, and soon, the left side was occupied by his frustrated friend.
Okuyasu sighed, holding a can of beer and fanning himself with the lapels of his jacket. The moving air sent a whiff of his cologne to Josuke's nose, who was sitting right next to him. A penetrating scent, spicy and strong, but delicate and mixed with the natural musk Okuyasu seemed to carry even after a shower. His odor, the tanginess of his sweat, the faint scent of what seemed to be apple shampoo, and the awful alcohol breath. Josuke raised his face, inhaling the smell like a wolf, letting his fingers sink into his thighs as the sensations invaded his body. A nice perfume, but underneath, the raw scent of a man, and not any man, a man he loved, was thrilling and sensual. He swallowed hard, looking around. People danced, they kissed, they drank. Nobody was watching them. Not even Okuyasu was interested in the shared moment. So he dared to stare.
The soft, tanned expanse of skin on his strong neck, tinted with a blush after the dancing. Tempting, soft looking. Okuyasu exhaling heat and humidity, bringing the can to his beautiful, full lips as he drank. His Adam's apple bobbed, and Josuke stared, watching him swallow with his head tilted backwards slightly, a single droplet of sweat that ran down from the hair on his sideburn down his jaw and finally neck. The taller boy swallowed down the persistent need to reach out and lick the drop.
He shut his eyes and turned his face, frowning, trying to force the thoughts out of his mind. He opened his eyes again to meet the world of hormonal teenagers again, dancing masses of limbs moving to the beat or to the level of their excitement, groping, touching, squeezing. Boys with girls. Girls with other girls. And yet, not a single boy danced with another boy.
What would Okuyasu say, if he asked him to dance? If he swayed his hips in front of him, if he brushed his ass against his crotch? If he wrapped loose arms around his neck, and grinned lasciviously, promising more than just a dance, licking the edge of his teeth, leaning in to whisper, "wanna go somewhere quiet?". He would probably laugh, would probably shove him away. Josuke would have to ease his frustration alone again, trusting his moans to the darkness of his room, allowing it to be the only witness of his pathetic sexual failure.
A couple caught his eye. A short haired girl danced with a boy. From the angle, they actually looked like two men. Josuke shivered, and gulped down the shot of the strong, clear drink that someone offered him. His throat was starting to burn from all the drinking, his legs were stiff from sitting in the same position for too long. Hiding a forming bulge in his trousers, pretending to be unaffected by the atmosphere around him.
But above the beat of the music, the bass and the loud guitar, Josuke could hear a sound. A gulping sound, almost constant, followed by the hissing pop of another can being opened. Okuyasu was drinking just as much as him now, perhaps trying to calm a thirst that little had to do with the urge of drinking.
He finally dared to look at his friend again. A different light was hitting him. The blue hue of the new lights, casting them in an intimate shadow, despite the amount of people around them. The floor vibrating under their feet. Resonating in Josuke's guts. He wanted to puke. Did he?
Okuyasu sighed and fanned himself again, wafting the aroma back into Josuke's nostrils. He shivered. The excitement traveled down his body like electricity, making his groin pulse. He parted his lips to breathe. And he could have sworn that he could taste Okuyasu. Salty, fresh. Manly.
A whine died in his throat. He opened his jacket, letting it fall down his shoulders. It was so hot. Okuyasu was hot. Okuyasu was everything. He was a scent. He was warmth. He was the one thing reflecting light in the dark room. He was the north that guided him. The one company he truly had. He was his support, his ally. He was a pillar. The ground to step on. The sky above his world. His world.
"Okuyasu..."
He couldn't control any of his movements. His body responded clumsily. Hands reached without knowing what to grasp, and his head felt heavy as he let it follow the scent with his nose, brushing the hot skin of Okuyasu's neck.
The excitement only grew, but there was a hint of fear when his friend tensed.
"Josuke?"
He didn't answer. He closed his eyes, trying his luck, playing with the fire he had started. Okuyasu's jacket was in the way, he pushed it aside and let himself be intoxicated with that fantastic smell.
"Oi, whatcha doin', bro?"
Okuyasu sounded confused, unamused, but not upset. So Josuke let his tongue press underneath his ear, and held Okuyasu when he tried to squirm away.
"O-oi! Dude, what the fuck--"
"Let me. Please, just this once, let me..."
Silence followed. At least, Josuke didn't hear anything else. The music, the voices, the laughter, the moans. Everything was quieted down. Only Okuyasu's heartbeat drummed against his cheek.
"... He-here?"
A shy, anxious voice that contrasted with the previous tone. Josuke let out a breath he didn't notice he was holding. He nodded, letting his hand fall heavy on Okuyasu's thigh, squeezing and running upwards to meet his crotch. But Okuyasu's hand stopped him.
"Not here", he grunted, "let's find somewhere quiet".
The magic words. But there was no flirting. No cheeky smiles, no playful caresses. Just two drunk boys zigzagging among people towards an empty room, what seemed to be a storage room, packed with boxes of shoes, the wheel of a bike and an inflatable mattress. There was light there. Josuke turned it on. Okuyasu turned it off.
In the darkness they kissed. Josuke was trapped between the wall and Okuyasu's body, and he felt that was the place where he belonged. Trapped in the darkness, between a hot body and a cold wall, with no way out of it. He kissed back, grasping whatever his hands found in their way. Jacket, t-shirt, muscles and hair. Belts.
He moaned uncontrollably with every bite Okuyasu left on his neck, with every squeeze of his desperate hands. He allowed the other to use him for his own solitaire fantasy. Who was him to judge? He had been using the image of his friend for his own pleasure for such a long time that he forgot when it started.
He fell down on his knees. Struggled with more belts than a singular person needed to wear, pulled pants and underwear down and found Okuyasu's cock with his lips, opening his inexperienced mouth to suck him up.
"F-fuck, Josuke..."
At least he didn't forget who was doing the job for him. The darkness couldn't compete with his Italian perfume, with the stinging smell of the hairspray, the peculiar scent of the menthol cigarettes squishing in the pocket of his jacket. Yeah, it was Josuke of all people, bobbing his head between Okuyasu's legs, swallowing whatever liquids poured into his mouth.
The grip in his hair felt good, felt strong and secure, and Josuke knew he wanted to be held like that always. Guided by his glorious hair, the one thing nobody was allowed to touch but himself. It was such a privilege he gave only to the one. The one, who had chosen darkness over the sparkling nebula of his blue eyes.
Whatever. Life wasn't fair.
"I-if you keep goin' so hard, imma...", Okuyasu stuttered. Josuke stopped sucking, using only his hand to jerk him off slowly. "Up".
A single word, a strong command. How could he disobey? He struggled to get back on his feet, but Okuyasu manhandled him. Pulled him up, turned him around, pressed him against the wall.
"Arch your back".
Josuke obeyed. Usually, anyone that saw them would point at Josuke as the leader, the alpha in their little group of kindhearted boys with nasty appearance. Right then, in that context, Okuyasu barked commands and Josuke didn't hesitate to comply, hoping to be good at the little task. He arched his back, bit his lip when Okuyasu stripped him down, exposing his ass and aching, leaking erection.
"Squeeze yer legs together", he huffed against Josuke's ear, excited, already placing his big cock between the other's thighs.
He did as told, and gasped as he felt the cock he had lubricated with his own saliva sliding between his legs, brushing his perineum, his balls, his skin. Unconsciously, his back arched more, and Okuyasu hummed approvingly, holding onto the sides of his hips, going down his buttocks.
He turned on the light at last.
"Dude, ya do look hot like this".
Like that. Turned around, bending like a whore, face away so their eyes couldn't meet. Josuke had never felt so used. He didn't care. Maybe he even liked it. He would take any crumb of love and lust he could get from the one.
"Fuck me, Okuyasu".
"D-dude..."
Slurred encouragements, panted and moaned, the nasty squelching of flesh meeting flesh, high heels tapping the closet's floor, clacking belts. And the soft beating of music, vibrating against Josuke's fingers on the wall. It was his first time. There was nothing physical filling him, they were not ready for it. But the act itself filled him with more doubts than answers, more fears than certainty. And still, he loved every second of if. Okuyasu's hands squeezing his chest, his lips against his ear whispering, "ya sound cute, ya look so slutty, ya do me do good, bro...". The final thrusts as the hands now grasped Josuke's hips hard enough to bruise him. Josuke cumming untouched for the first time ever, even despite his intoxication. He loved it all so much. He loved it despite the hurt. Because he knew what followed.
More silence. A single silence just for them, while outside that closet people had fun openly. The ruffle of clothes being pulled up, the familiar clacking of belts, the shameful sigh.
And an embarrassed voice whispering, "we can't talk about this again".
And Josuke nodding. "Yeah. We won't".