Ocean Avenue

May passed, just like June, July, August, September, October and November and by the time that it was December, Hiruma's instincts were telling him that he could not live like this. He was itching to move on, do something before he was going to go insane.

The talk with Mamori back in April had gone well, better than he had expected, they had agreed on a specific date and everything to complete Musashi's plans – 4 and a half years from now – but it just wasn't enough.

The worst thing was that they had not had sex yet.

At all.

After nine fucking months.

Some kissing, a bit groping, a lot of cuddling in front of the TV or skyline, but nothing else. Musashi behaved like he was some fucking saint and every once in a while Hiruma wondered if Sachiko was really his daughter. But then he took a look at her eyebrows and there was no doubt left that Musashi was really her father.

Thus, Hiruma wondered what he would have to do to seduce that self-proclaimed saint or if he had decided that they did not have to have sex until the time that he was finally free from his marriage. And if that was really the case, Hiruma swore that he would kill himself within the next few months.

Which brought him back to his original plans.

So far he had been able to spend a lot of time looking for a place to stay at, for a way to get there without being noticed and other important details. He had cooked up a master plan, thought of each and every possibility, he had even considered the impossibilities. Now he was getting bored and while that apartment of Musashi's was still great, it was getting colder outside and Hiruma was getting fed up with everything.

To put it frankly, he was so frustrated and pissed off that he lashed out at everybody who dared to say a wrong word to him. On top of that, he intentionally ignored Musashi, waiting for the other to make the first move into the direction that he wanted. But that did not work as well as he had hoped, since it drove the other further away from him. Perhaps he had spent too much time being anti-social that he had forgotten how to make Musashi interested in him?

Hiruma sighed and realized that drastic measures had to be taken. He sighed and closed his laptop, making plans to leave the apartment for his old storage room.

~*~

As Musashi returned from his work that day, stressed out and dead-tired, he did not trust his eyes at first. He blinked, shook his head, pinched himself, but Hiruma was still wearing a maid's outfit. Complete with a little headpiece, stockings and probably a garter underneath, too. He could not help it; he had to lick his lips at that.

The blond bit back a smirk as he bowed lowly, talking in a voice as sweet as candy, "Welcome back home, master. How was your day?"

"...What's with that outfit?" Musashi asked, too distracted to notice that Hiruma took his coat and scarf and put it away, just to lead him to the dining table.

There he sat him down and the man stared at the perfectly laid out plate and cutlery. Even a pair of candles and a small but pretty bouquet that consisted mainly of a single red rose, but with the skyline in the background, the night sky and the whole ensemble, Musashi felt like during his university time again: Romantic, full of dreams... young.

"Oh, nothing, I just wear a dress because I fucking like wearing dresses all the fucking time, I just didn't want to you show this fucked-up side of me yet," Hiruma shrugged as he put the dinner in front of him. Home-cooked, not burnt for once and perfectly arranged traditional Japanese dishes that made Musashi wonder if Hiruma had really cooked all of this by himself.

"Oh, okay," Musashi said with a smirk as he started eating his soup.

Hiruma sat down on the other side of the table and started to eat his own share of the dinner he made, always feeling Musashi's eyes on him.

"...What," he said, raising a delicate eyebrow.

"Nothing," Musashi smirked.

Hiruma wrinkled his forehead and narrowed his eyes. Glaring at the other as they savored their dinner, the blond started to feel slightly uncomfortable in his garter belt. And the other thing that he was wearing, especially since he had to sit for longer than he had anticipated.

"This is really good," Musashi said after he finished the fish. "Did you cook all of this yourself?"

"Pfft, no, I have no time to cook myself. I mean, I just sit here all day and night, do nothing and... Oh! I wear dresses when you're not there and slip back into my usually clothes once I hear the elevator coming up here," Hiruma lashed out as calmly as he was able.

"You're really pissed off, hm?" Musashi mumbled, but looked slightly amused nevertheless.

Glaring even harder, Hiruma wished he had not packed away his gun; it would have been so handy right then.

"No, what makes you think that?" he said in a bittersweet voice, baring his fangs.

"Hm, I don't know, but I think the fact that I had to exchange the sofa three times this month thanks to the shot holes in the cushions. Oh, and those burnt toasts I have to share with you every morning," Musashi smirked as he started to eat the rice. He raised his eyebrows at the slightly different taste.

"How did you make that? It tastes good."

"Oh, that's a recipe I learned in America and... What the hell? You're not interested in it anyways," Hiruma pouted, put away his chopsticks and crossed his arms in front of his chest, pouting like a little child.

Musashi could not help but chuckle, even though he knew exactly what was going on here. By all he means, he knew that it was his fault, but he wanted to know just how far he could push Hiruma nowadays. Then again he was also unsure about his own abilities, it had been years since he had done anything with another man and while he was sure this was just like riding a bike, he could not help but feel self-conscious about his abilities.

On the other hand, he followed the tactics of keeping Hiruma at bay until the other was so depraved that anything would seem like good sex to him. So, maybe tonight was the night.

Looking at Hiruma's seething face though, he knew he had better get it on tonight or he would drive him away completely... again.

Thus, he also put away his chopsticks – he had finished dinner anyways – and wiped his mouth before he stood up and walked over to his pouting maid for the night.

"Thank you, it was delicious," he said as he placed a kiss on a bared part of the blond's shoulder. The tense muscles under his lips relaxed a little, but not nearly as much as to seem comfortable.

"Fuck, you don't know anything," Hiruma grumbled, still pouting. "You don't know what's for dessert."

"Oh, I think I know," Musashi smirked and nipped at the other's point of ear.

He could see him shudder and sigh and the blush that spread across the blond's cheeks which made him smile softly. Maybe he was not so rusty after all.

"No, fuck, this is not it. This is the after-dinner snack, not the dessert," Hiruma growled as he leaned his head to the side, granting the older one more access to his neck. "The dessert is crèpes with red bean paste and vanilla ice-cream... and not this."

"Don't tell me you object," Musashi mumbled with his mouth around Hiruma's sensitive ear and his hands on the other's thighs. The stockings felt nice on those almost too thin legs and for a split second the man wondered how his lover had managed to stay this skinny in America, of all places. Not that he minded, but he started to feel a little self-conscious because Mamori's cooking had not ceased to have its effects on him.

Ah, wealth, the downfall of every six-pack if you did not pay attention.

For a moment, Gen was hesitant about his next move, but then Hiruma had put his hand behind his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. What was that movie called? Spiderman? Back in the beginning of the century... Anyways, kissing like that was quite uncomfortable, even more than he remembered. Consequently, it did not take long for them to break the kiss.

"Hey, uh, how about we take this... to the other side of the room?" He asked softly, his voice laced deeply with lust.

"What, dessert in bed?" Hiruma smirked. "This'll get messy, you know?"

"I'm counting on it," Musashi grinned back as he stepped back to make space for Hiruma to push back his chair. Then he took the blond's hand and led him over to the other side where his queen-sized bed stood.

But they did not even manage to get that far. On their way, Hiruma tackled the slightly taller man down and they landed non-too-softly on the ground, their fall thankfully softened by the thick carpet Musashi had put down in his couch-corner.

The blond's thin lips were on his, a strong, familiar tongue deeply in his mouth. He sighed, giving back as much as he received and let his hands roam over the cotton fabric of the maid's costume. It felt so nice under his hands, but he knew it would only get better once he reached under the ruffles of-

"Oh no, not yet," Hiruma smirked as he pushed himself up and to his knees in one fluid motion, helping his lover to do the same, and together they managed to make it the last missing meters towards the bed.

Hiruma smirked when the backside of his knees hit the edge of the bed and he let himself fall down on it, taking good care that his clothes billowed around him nicely, the short skirt riding up so high that Musashi could see he was not wearing any underwear besides the garter belt. The older licked his lips and a few seconds later Hiruma felt a strong and calloused hand ghost over the sensitive skin of his thigh.

"Come on, old man, it's not like it's going to bite you," the blond smirked as he put up his other leg, thus making the skirt ride dangerously high.

Musashi licked his lips in anticipation before he leaned down and resumed to kiss the other. Meanwhile, his hand had finally reached its destination and with a gentleness that the former quarterback was not used from the other, he started rub up and down on the hardening length.

He moaned dutifully, but he also pressed his pelvis further against Musashi's hand, demanding more friction. At the same time he pressed his knee against the other's crotch, making him feel just how impatient he was. Unfortunately for him, Musashi was still not convinced that easily.

"Fuck, I've been waiting for over 20 years for this, I would encourage you to minimize the foreplay and get on with it!" Hiruma hissed, burying his nails into the other's back.

Musashi inhaled sharply and squeezed his eyes shut in pain for a moment, before he glared good-naturedly at the blond.

"Fine, but I have to warn you: I'm a bit rusty," he said, before he sat up and pushed up the layers of the skirt non-too-gently.

Hiruma squeaked and instinctively tried to push down the hems of his skirt, but as soon as Musashi's mouth enveloped his erection with his mouth all thought of covering him up decently were washed from his mind and he just reacted by arching up and pushing himself deeper into the other's mouth.

The older choked and backed up a bit, took a deep breath and then tried again while relaxing his whole body. With his thumb and index finger around the base, he concentrated on twirling his tongue around the head of the blond's penis, and massaged the underside of it as well as he was able to.

Moaning, Hiruma buried his fingers into graying black hair and massaged the scalp underneath. Taking this as his encouragement to go on, Musashi doubled his efforts and started to move his hand in addition to his mouth, trying to remember what Hiruma had liked once.

To his horror, he remembered nothing. So he simply improvised, just like the times when he did not know what to say in business meetings.

Frowning, he pushed away any thoughts about work and concentrated back on the present and the cock in his mouth. Obviously he was doing something right, because the blond started to writhe uncontrollably, pushing his pelvis up now and then. Smirking, Musashi doubled his efforts once again, but it was not enough.

"In... Inside me...." The blond moaned and spread his legs further, inviting the other to complete his work. Musashi licked his lips, knowing exactly what Hiruma wanted and – with a very sudden movement – he jumped off the bed to rummage through his drawer.

"Hey," Hiruma said as he propped himself up on his elbows, "are you looking for this?"

As the older turned around to look at his lover after he was about to rip out the drawer of his nightstand.

"When did you...?"

"Oh, I put it in my little apron here, hoping that you'd have me before dinner," Hiruma said in a fake hurt tone and threw the little bottle at him, which the other caught with little problem.

"...Would have been a waste of food," Musashi concluded while he spread some gel onto the fingers of his right hand. He crawled back between the blond's legs and continued to work on the neglected erection, while his fingers searched for the hidden entrance. Since Hiruma showed so much impatience, he would give him what he wanted quickly.

So, with much difficulty he did not remember from the last time, he managed to get one, two fingers inside the tight tunnel, pushing deeper, feeling around until he had found what he had been looking for. He gently caressed the little nub, which resulted in him having problems to keep the blond down as he bucked up with a howl. Musashi smirked and repeated his movement a few more times until Hiruma started to break out into spasms and tried to warn him that he was cumming. Warm seed coated the man's throat and he had a hard time controlling his gag reflex as he tried to swallow everything.

When Hiruma had calmed down and was breathing normally again, Musashi had already managed to widen him enough for more. Feeling a little playful, he pushed in three of his fingers as far as he could once the blond opened his mouth to say something to him. Thus, instead of words, only another gasped moan came out of the kiss-swollen lips.

"Fuck! Do you want to kill me?!" Hiruma yelled after the older man had pulled out his fingers with a grin.

"Nope, just being playful," Musashi grinned and crawled up to kiss the other's lips, spreading his legs in the process. Calloused hands moved over the backside of pale, thin legs, strong fingers grabbed the firm ass tightly and he tried to push inside the widened hole, but he quickly realized that it would not work without proper guidance.

Hiruma chuckled as the other readjusted himself. "I'm not a fucking woman with self-lubrication ability; I really thought you'd remember that- Ack!"

"Sorry, I'm getting old and my bra-ah!-in is not working at full capacity right now," Musashi smirked back after he had guided himself into the still tight tunnel. He pushed forward, not once hesitating until he was completely sheathed inside.

Hiruma clawed at his back, his long nails leaving dark red lines underneath his shirt and Musashi reveled in the pain that distracted him from feeling so wonderfully ecstatic inside of the only man he had always treasured more than himself.

"Shit! Don't move so fast! I wasn't ready yet!"

"Oh, but I do think you were ready a long time ago," Musashi smirked and lifted the blond's ass up, so that he could move freely, but before he started moving, he took a few moments to look at Hiruma on his bed, hair and costume deliciously disheveled, and with the barely reawakened erection and the joint point where his own cock was deep inside him, it was more than just a wet dream.

It was the best damn thing that had happened to him.

In that moment of weakness he almost blurted out the three words, but he caught himself instead and simply started moving. He started with long, slow strokes, watching Hiruma's face as it displayed emotions of various kinds, starting with pain and ending with pleasure, just to moan loudly when he plunged back inside.

From Musashi's point of view it looked very nice and used all of his mind-power not to be overwhelmed just by the feeling of Hiruma around him and concentrated on the visual arousal, mostly because he wanted to appreciate Hiruma in the maid's dress in all of its glory.

The blond thanked him by moving most sexily, writhing with his thrusts, holding on to his forearms as his legs wrapped around the older one's waist, his ankles hooked against his knees for stabilization as he moved up against Musashi's thrusts. Letting himself fall forwards, supporting himself on his arms on both sides of the blond head, the former kicker fixed his eyes on his face, letting his hips work on their own, while Hiruma did his best to destroy his rhythm and take the upper hand.

He did not succeed though and Musashi determined the rhythm until Hiruma pulled him down to kiss him. They continued moving and Hiruma's now fully erect cock rubbing against his stomach did the rest to make Musashi come with a howl and spill his seed deeply inside of the blond.

Hiruma mewled in response and when Musashi used his remaining batteries to wrap his hand around the other's cock, it only took a few tugs to make him come again, staining the maid's uniform in the process.

"Oh fuck it!" Hiruma gasped out once he had caught enough breath to speak again, "that was fucking great!"

Musashi grunted, lying right next to him, spread eagle, because he was too lazy to move.

"Okay, give me a few moments," the blond said and tried to sit up, but gave up quickly and just turned around to lie on his stomach, fumbling with the fastener of the dress, struggling out of it. "Better."

"...What now?"

"I said, give me a few moments," Hiruma gasped, "Next I'll be on top."

"...You want to do it again?" Musashi asked incredulously.

"Hey, I have to make up for over 20 years without you."

Musashi blushed and felt his weakness coming back to him, but before he was able to say anything, Hiruma had captured his mouth in another kiss.

~*~

"I want to leave now," Hiruma mumbled as they lay there in the aftermath of their lovemaking, the blond tracing lines on the other's chest.

Musashi sighed. "I can't do that. You know why."

"Fuck, yeah, I know, but I can't stay here like that forever! It's been nine fucking months! I can't bear to live in this place like this, waiting for you all day to come home to me as the only distraction of an otherwise boring day! Hell, I even enjoyed making dinner today," Hiruma growled and let his nails run over the other's sensitive nipples.

Hissing, Musashi squeezed his eyes shut and tried to listen to the other's complaints. But there was nothing that he could do. He had to wait until Youichi was old enough to take over the company, he could not leave until then and he had thought he had made that clear to the blond during the last months.

"I don't want to become a housewife," Hiruma sighed after an almost endless tirade of what he had done during the day. "I'm not MADE to be housewife!"

"...I'm sorry for making you stay here all the time," Musashi sighed. "But it's not like you want to go out."

"No, but that's because it's no fun going out here in Tokyo. The fact that I could meet people I don't want to meet and things I don't want to see and... Fuck, I feel claustrophobic here. And I sure as hell won't be able to stand this for much longer. And definitely not for 4 more years," Hiruma complained.

Musashi sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He knew that this conversation would come up, but he had not expected it to come up so fast, or after some mind-blowing sex. In fact, he had hoped that it would never come up but he also knew that he would never be that lucky.

"Listen, I told you I can't go-"

"Of course you fucking can! You just don't want to!" Hiruma interrupted him as he sat up before he was able to finish his thoughts. "What are you doing all day? Signing papers that you don't even read and looking after the children of your employees! You know that both Mamori and Youichi and everybody else in your fucking company can take care of what you're doing and that it's not you who makes all the decisions, but your fucking wife!!"

"Yes, but-"

"Oh, shut up! You know you can leave today! The fucking mother hen knows about your reasons for leaving and if she really needs it, she will find ways to contact you," Hiruma bellowed. "You are just not coming with me today because you are too fucking chicken to take a step towards something you don't know! Towards something you can't control, towards me! Because you are not used to me anymore."

"But this is your own fault," Musashi tried to argue, "you left."

"Oh, thank you Sherlock, for reminding me," Hiruma yelled as he threw his hands up in the air. "But fine, if you want to put all the blame on me, great! I can leave any day and you will never see me again."

With these words, the blond jumped off the bed, naked ass glistening in the moonlight and started packing what little he had for his belongings, which meant that he disconnected his laptop and threw his clothes into his small suitcase.

"What are you- Hey! Where are you going?!" Musashi asked as the blond started to dress back into his black turtleneck and black pants.

"As if I would tell you," the former quarterback snorted. "I'm leaving; I don't want to be confined here anymore."

"But... but... You cannot do this!"

"See me doing it!"

"No! Stay! I need you!"

As Musashi had said these words, Hiruma, laptop in a bad around his shoulder, suitcase in next to him, hesitated a few moments. Then he grinned. "Well, sorry, I don't need you anymore. I want you, but I don't need you. You're twenty years too late for this shit."

"But... Hey! There must be a way to-"

In a fit of soap opera dramatics, the blond wound one arm around his lover and pulled him into a short, but very intense kiss. "If you want to show me that you really want to be with me from now on, I'll see you tomorrow at 6p.m. at Narita airport," Hiruma said breathlessly afterwards. "Here, take this."

"What is this?" Musashi asked, staring bedazzled at the piece of paper in his hands.

"Oh, you will figure it out yourself. Now let me go, I have a taxi to take," the blond pushed his lover aside and took the last few steps towards the elevator. "...Good-bye."

"Hiruma, wait!"

It was too late though. Before the older man could take the last important steps towards the elevator, the doors had slid shut and Hiruma had disappeared from him.

He was reminded too much of the last time that he had left.