Chapter Text
He feels weird. Not in a bad way. Not in a bad way at all. And that's precisely why it troubles him.
Because Ken knows where his heart stands. He has known for a while now. Ayase-san has been nothing but a beacon of light in his poor excuse of a life. She has shown him what it means to be alive—to live another day just to see what will come next. It's surreal to think there was a time he begged whatever's out there to take him away, just to save him the trouble.
It all seemed so far away now. Like that was a different person from a different universe. Hell, maybe he did get abducted after all…
The hand touching him is big and warm and clammy, and it derails whatever train of thought was crossing through his brain, and god, it's so weird how good it feels. Because it's nothing like Ayase-san’s. No, Ayase-san's hands are smaller, her fingers thinner. For a split second he wonders if they'd hurt the same way and he feels so dizzy he has to actively will some oxygen into his lungs before he passes out for real.
His grip tightens on the fabric resting on those broad shoulders, a string of labored whimpers fighting their way out of his mouth the deeper those fingers sink. With his nerves through the roof, the breach is so strained that he fears that will be the end of—of whatever this is.
He doesn't want it to be. God no, he doesn't want it to be.
“Jiji,”
The name rolls from his tongue all slurry and breathless and it should be concerning how much he hates how he sounds. Like he's on the verge of tears. He hates it because Jiji actually stops, damn it, and that gives Ken a whole other reason to cry.
“Okarun? Is—is this still okay?” he whispers and he sounds so apologetic, so worried that it spreads goosebumps all over Ken's body.
God, he must look like such a wimp. He tries to picture himself through Jiji's eyes, helplessly sprawled below him on the futons Ayase-san was so kind to offer them, sweat making him uncomfortable to exist in his own skin, all the while panting like he's suffocating. His stomach twists into a nasty knot. That can't be a pleasant sight. That can't be a pleasant sight at all.
“You're gonna tell me if I'm hurting you right?”
Ken is not a good liar—or so he's been told. Ayase-san always called him out on it because she always was the first to see right through his bullshit. Something about avoiding eye contact, or about fiddling with his glasses. He's still not sure how she could tell when he does those very same things at least a hundred times a day, but well, if there's one thing that remains evergreen is that Ayase-san is a genius.
So, rather than lying right in his friend's face and risking getting caught, Ken decides it'll be best for his conscience if he nods instead. Frantically, to really sell it. And by some miracle Jiji does buy it, because his fingers pick up where they left off, and despite the burning sting Ken feels like he can finally do something right.
That is, until another whimper crawls out.
Has he ever mentioned he doesn't perform well under pressure? That one day in grade school he was asked to read a snippet for the class and got so paralyzed that his classmates made fun of him for a week straight? Yeah, well, it's safe to say he'd rather have no eyes on him if he can help it.
Jiji's not helping in that department.
“So cute…” he swoons, actually swoons, and that punches a clear hole right through Ken's ego. “You're so cute, Okarun,”
Is he? He doesn't feel cute right now. Honestly, he feels closer to the opposite. All sweaty and fighting tooth and nail to not let himself tear up because how pathetic would that be? He bears a curse that mangles his body at will and this is his breaking point? And that's not addressing the elephant in the room that is his… incomplete equipment. At least Jiji had the courtesy to make no comment on that.
With his thoughts running faster than his yokai form, he missed the moment his arms moved to shield his face from view. Only his mouth remained uncovered, running the risk of letting out more sounds he'd regret at the cost of being able to breathe at all.
Jiji makes no attempt to pull them off, and Ken's not sure how to feel about that either. Deep down he knows it's about respecting his boundaries, or something. God knows he must look like a nervous wreck right now. But he can't help but think of Ayase-san. Of the way she always asks him—eggs him on to look at her.
Ayase-san wouldn't let this slide. She would tease him into oblivion after pulling his arms out of the way, and Ken would let her because some inexplicable part of him is into it. Ayase-san would hold his wavering gaze in place while her touch would spread on him, inside him, all over him, and it would be so effortless for her to do so.
But Ayase-san is not here right now, and Ken has never done this before and he's scared, obviously he's scared, but it's so exhilarating and that's still the most confusing part about it.
“I'm gonna pull out a bit, okay?”
His head is reeling at how attentive Jiji is. Picture perfect Jiji, with his nice looks and kind personality and incredibly unfair height. Ken can't blame Ayase-san, she truly was onto something back then to like him. Because who wouldn't ? Ken himself failed miserably when he tried to despite his best efforts and the endless torment of his heart, so it's safe to say such a feat is impossible to achieve.
Because everyone likes Jiji.
His thoughts skid into a stop when it hits him that, much to his dismay, Jiji was still waiting for him to give the green light. So he nods until he's feeling lightheaded, not trusting that his voice won't break and spill all that he is and isn't in a fit of vulnerability, and when Jiji's fingers move—
Ken really, really hates how he sounds.
The part of him that takes the wheel when Turbo Granny's curse surges forward lays dormant in the back of his mind on most days, but right now even that has gotten front row seats on his self-deprecating journey.
It tells him that Jiji hates it too. That his wide eyes and parted lips are his way of showing disdain, the sudden realization that it's not a beautiful girl like Ayase-san under him but a sweaty, writhing mess and that he's such an ugly sight and that maybe none of this should've happened—
“Can you do that again?”
And Ken laughs, and it's wet and shaky and probably a little too close to a sob for comfort. Because he did the thing again, didn't he? The thing Ayase-san had told him to stop doing on the very first day they met. Was he really such an open book, that everyone keeps having him figured out from the start?
Thank god his eyes are still covered.
“ No. ” he chokes out, his voice a faltering whisper. Because these walls are paper thin, and he'd die first before allowing himself to live another day post getting caught in the act by the Ayase women. Jiji on the other hand looks like Ken just kicked his dog. He can see it through the small opening formed between his arms. It's the furthest he dares to go in terms of allowing himself to see his surroundings.
This time, there's no warning when Jiji pushes back in. Not that Ken needed one per se, but at least he would've schooled his startled gasp a little better. The pauses in between gradually become shorter as well, leaving him little room to breathe in and out without running out of oxygen. If he was feeling hot before, he might as well be melting now.
Jiji's movements grow steady yet sharp, the feeling so magnetic that somewhere down the line Ken started meeting him halfway. His hands are frantically searching for something to hold on to while still keeping his face shielded. The pillow under him is probably the best he'll get, so his fingers dig into it like a lifeline.
Labored exhales and choked moans fight to slip past his mouth while his limit rapidly closes in, but it's only when he hears Jiji groan softly that his heart stops. His peeking grows a little bolder, and for that he gets rewarded with the sight of Jiji touching himself in tandem with his thrusting fingers.
Oh.
Ken had been standing at the edge of the cliff for some time now, but the precise moment he jumped is rather unclear to him. All he knows is that everything turns white while he's falling, and that landing feels like sinking into warm sand. Distantly, he feels himself shaking from the force of—well, his orgasm.
And he didn't even touch me there…
Now that's embarrassing. He will proceed to not think about it.
It doesn't take long for Jiji to follow after him. He finishes over Ken's stomach, his spent getting mixed up with his own, and—yeah, no, he will not think about that either.
It's almost too quiet without his ears ringing. His arms are still draped over his face, and aside from his own breathing, he can distinctly hear Jiji shuffling around the room before he feels something damp on his soiled skin.
It's what melts the barrier away, watching in silence as Jiji gingerly wipes off their mess. There's not a hint of mischief in his expression, no silly faces or jokes like usual, and that's probably what makes this entire situation all the more unnerving.
“You…” Jiji starts, pauses, and lets a blush creep into his cheeks when he remembers to tuck Ken back into his pyjama pants. “You're still okay, right? Didn't hurt or anything?”
Ken studies him for a moment, as much as his blurry vision will allow. It's rare to see Jiji of all people at such a loss of what to do with himself. That's usually a spot reserved for Ken. He bites his bottom lip, and the back of his hand moves to rest over his mouth. His words come out muffled.
“Um, no. It was—” His eyes try to wander, but he fights to keep them locked on Jiji for this. “It was nice, actually. Really… really nice.”
And he means it. Despite the borderline aneurysm his brain put him through, that really was fun. A part of him hopes he'll get to experience it again. Maybe, just maybe, with Ayase-san next time, if that's something she'd ever want.
Jiji smiles in a way that makes his face glow, like it was the first time he actually got to breathe all night, and it hits Ken like a truck that oh, god.
The boy was scared too. He had been scared the whole time, and how crazy is that? For Jiji— picture perfect Jiji, to be scared?
“Cool! I'm—um. I'm glad!”
A quick kiss finds its way on Ken's damp forehead and he blinks up at Jiji while a new heatwave warms his cheeks. He can't say anything even if he wanted to, because Jiji crawls into his futon with his back facing him at lightning speed. Ken's left staring at the big lump with his eyes open wide and his pulse higher than what should be the norm.
“Nighty night!”
He should say something. That's his cue to say something, but for whatever stupid reason his words refuse to go past his lips. He can only hope Jiji understands.
You're still okay, right?
A warm smile spreads across his mouth, and Ken rolls to his side, facing the lump.
Maybe he won't have to worry about that.