by Anna Veriani
They proceeded into the showers together. When Hiro turned on his showerhead, adjusting the temperature and water pressure, Kai promptly returned to staring. Hiro’s back was beautifully muscled, contrasting with the slim tapering of his hips.
“Good,” said Hiro, sitting down. His legs stretched out, thighs thick. Kai couldn’t move, still standing. “Because I have to watch you carefully.”
Kai laughed, and that helped him unfreeze. He took the stool beside Hiro, switching on his showerhead. “What’s that, weirdo?”
Hiro grinned at him, revealing how full of shit he was. “How do I know you remember how to wash for a hot spring?” Hiro asked, squeezing out soap from a bottle and dousing his chest with suds. “What if you miss a spot?”
“Oh, screw you.” Kai lifted his showerhead and let the warm water run over him, sighing. He hadn’t realized how sore he was from traveling. He picked up a fresh bar of black charcoal soap. Its sharp scent brought him back to his childhood.
“Maybe I should wash you just to be sure,” Hiro said.
Kai chuckled and, as he was distracted, Hiro grabbed Kai’s soap bar from him.
“Hey!” He punched Hiro in the stomach.
“Was I supposed to feel something?”
“You’re such a doofus.” Kai couldn’t stop grinning, though.
When he’d moved to New York as a boy, one of the biggest sources of culture shock for him had been how little his new friends touched him. Japanese boys were affectionate with each other in a casual way he had never stopped missing. In New York boys brushed shoulders in the hall and screeched, “No homo!”
When Hiro came to New York for university, living with him was like coming home again. Hiro was more mature than Kai in a lot of ways, but he was also perpetually boyish. During his freshman year of college, Hiro hugged, cuddled, spanked, wrestled, and noogied Kai every single day. Properly touched for the first time in a long while. When Hiro moved back home again, Kai promptly returned to craving it.
“You need to lift some weights.” Hiro reached over, lifting Kai’s arm above his head as if inspecting it.
“You really think so?”
Hiro smiled, letting him go, and handed his soap back. “Nah.” He turned away, focusing on getting clean. Kai got a full view of his broad shoulders, his back, his calves. He was transfixed. The backs of Hiro’s ankles, a patch of dry skin, made Kai’s heart thunder in his chest.
After a moment Hiro looked over his shoulder. “You don’t need to do anything, Kai. You’re perfect.”
MAYBE his stupid comments about washing thoroughly had actually made an impression on Kai, because Kai took longer to finish washing up. Once Hiro scrubbed between his toes and behind his ears, his skin zinging pleasantly from the charcoal, he trotted out into the open air. He embraced the icy chill before unwrapping the towel from his waist and throwing it around his neck.
The private open-air hot spring was lined with evergreen bonsai and statuettes of snow hares and white geese. The falling snow steamed as it hit the water, and Hiro stepped in, leaning against the tiled pool wall.
The hot mineral water always felt amazing. After twenty-six years, it was safe to say he’d never grow immune to the pleasure.
He would also never grow immune to the pleasure of looking at Kai. Kai came outside, skin fresh and glowing, naked but for his small waist towel. He moved through space with unconscious artistry, all dancer’s legs and taut, graceful arms.
Hiro stuck his fingers between his lips and whistled.
“There’s America’s best swimsuit model,” he called out.
“You are the least Japanese Japanese inn owner ever,” Kai huffed. “Since when do inn owners whistle at their own guests?”
“If you recall, I, too, am an honored guest at this inn now,” Hiro said. “And I had to book this private bath because I’m so famous that random strangers might try to photograph me naked.”
Kai shook his head. “My entire life is a joke to you, isn’t it?”
“Only the funny bits.”
Kai just shook his head, obviously knowing better than to take Hiro seriously.
Not everything was a joke to Hiro, though. Right now there was nothing funny about the freckles on Kai’s bare arms, or even the mere fact of Kai’s arms. Extraordinary. All of him felt like a miracle, always, but especially when Hiro was with him in person. Kai’s nipples were tight, flat, and pink. His chest was flushed from the heat of the water, melting snow forming droplets in his hair. There was nothing remotely funny about any of this, but maybe the most serious thing was the arch of Kai’s long neck as he looked up, letting the cold hit his cheeks. Hiro traced that delicate curve with his eyes, his fingers tingling with the need to touch.
He hadn’t expected it to feel this intense this quickly. He used to hunger for Kai in university, but he’d thought that febrile need would have cooled now that he was older. It hadn’t, but at least he had years of experience ignoring it.
“This feels amazing,” Kai breathed. “The heat and the cold all at once. I don’t have this in New York.”
Hiro felt a niggle of pride at that, pleased he had something good to offer. He watched Kai intently, the way he sank deeper into the water, leaning back against the rocks.
Then Kai opened his eyes and saw him watching, and the moment was broken.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” he said, and hilariously he shifted like he meant to conceal something.
“Scared I was checking you out, Kai-chan?” Hiro grinned. “Wasn’t, promise. Just trying to work up the nerve to ask you for your autograph.”
Kai rolled his eyes. “Why did I think spending time with you would be relaxing?”
Hiro didn’t know anyone who loved being messed with half as much as Kai did. For all of Kai’s chastising, he’d probably complain about being cheated if Hiro didn’t spend most of his time teasing him. Right around puberty, Kai went through a phase when he’d do something to piss Hiro off almost every day. It took Hiro months to figure out all Kai really wanted was to be tackled to the ground.
“You do seem awfully shy,” Hiro observed. “Are you hiding something? Maybe I need to check.”
He grabbed Kai’s wrists as Kai struggled, laughing, and Hiro was glad no one was around to see what idiots they were being, practically tainting sacred ground.
“What could you possibly be checking?” Kai asked, wrenching himself free.
“For tattoos!” As long as his grandmother was alive, uncovered tattoos wouldn’t be allowed in the Asada hot springs. “You got a tattoo, didn’t you?”
“Of course I didn’t. It’d be all over the tabloids if I did.”
“I don’t read your tabloids, you narcissist.” He forced his way under Kai’s arms and tickled him. Kai squirmed, and their chests brushed.
Hiro yanked himself away, heartbeat skyrocketing. Kai was panting, his lips parted and flushed. Probably just from the hot water.
“Sometimes I get a little too handsy,” Hiro said by way of apology. He wasn’t sure what Kai’s boundaries were, but it was always easy to get carried away with him.
Kai shook his head, but he didn’t say anything. They just gazed at each other, a foot or so of space between them. Hiro could make out the faint freckles on Kai’s cheeks.
“You’re not—” Kai started and stopped. “I mean, you’re just—” He shook his head again, closing his eyes. Hiro desperately wanted to know what he was trying to say, wondering if he was angry. “You’re just sexy, Hiro.”
Oh. Well. Oh.
Kai’s eyes opened wide like he was as surprised by those words as Hiro was.
Hiro couldn’t think of a single thing to say in response. It had never dawned on him that Kai might think that, mostly because he’d spent half his life watching Kai date other guys while expecting that he himself would magically wake up straight one day. He was pretty comfortable being in the friend realm of Kai’s life; it meant he never had to worry about them breaking up.
/> Sexy, though. That was new. That was really new, and Hiro was split between saying something sincere and making a not-quite-insincere joke about how flattering that was. He almost settled on the latter when a cell phone shrilled inside, left on the edge of the shower room on a towel.
Kai cringed. “That’s mine. If it’s important, it’ll ring twice.”
After a moment the ringing died down—then immediately started up again.
“You should probably see who it is,” Hiro said.
A small battle played out in Kai’s eyes before he finally turned and rose out of the water, then wrapped his towel back around his waist. Hiro gave him a small wave as he trotted reluctantly to the shower room, and the intensity between them dissolved. It was just a normal bath again.
VERONICA Hillstone, his PR manager, was talking without pause, and Kai could easily imagine her face purpling as she sputtered.
“I have no idea where you are, and your security calls me, asking me where you could be, and I am left to worry about what people are going to think when I don’t know where you are and—”
“I’m okay, though,” Kai said, flinching when he realized she hadn’t said she was worried about him.
“That’s great.” She made it sound like a filthy curse. “When are you going to be back at the studio?”
“Studio?” Kai repeated blankly. His voice echoed against dressing room walls. He might have toweled off, but his hair was still damp, and he was shivering. He’d left his yukata in a bin just outside the shower room. He’d tried to put it on one-handed and failed, dropping the entire bin onto the floor. He gave up rather than putting the phone down while Veronica raged at him. He felt distinctly vulnerable being yelled at while nude, even if Veronica had no idea. “I’m taking advantage of my vacation.”
“But you haven’t updated your Instagram in eighteen hours. Didn’t you leave orders for your assistant? Where is Leslie? And what about the interview I scheduled for you and James? You’re supposed to show off the new car he bought you.”
Kai felt like he’d just swallowed something bitter. “He’s not buying me a car. I can buy my own car.”
“Good. You can pay for the Lovey Buggy, then,” she said.
“The what?”
“That’s what we’re going to say you named the car we’ll say James got you. It’s going to be a Tesla. Very green. People will love it.”
He groaned.
“No? We can figure out the details later. Just get back here, Ledging.”
His heart sank to his stomach. “I was really hoping for just….” Thirty-five days. “Until the Christmas special,” he said. “I’ll come back in time for filming.”
The Asadas were like a second family to him, and even if they didn’t celebrate the American holiday, he trusted Hiro to make the day special. The thought of eating a roast turkey across from James Duffy made him want to cry.
“That better be a joke, Ledging.” She sounded devoid of humor.
“No?” He sounded like a squeaky chickadee.
“Oh-ho-ho. A week or longer. Do you hear yourself? Do you have any idea how many people are on the hook for your little getaway right now? James is furious. And where the hell are you? Did you even think about—”
Kai held the phone away from his ear as her voice got louder and louder. He felt like she was right in the room with him, screaming in his face. He could imagine the spittle flying from her lips.
He jumped when someone touched his arm, but it was only Hiro holding open his cotton yukata for him. He was dressed in a matching robe. Kai looked over his shoulder and silently thanked him, pushing his arms through the sleeves.
As Veronica continued to holler, Hiro wrapped his arms around Kai, tying the robe’s belt around his waist. Kai wanted to sink into his body heat, but he restrained himself.
Finally Hiro took the phone from him. Kai probably should have stopped him, but he was completely numb.
“Hello?” Hiro spoke.
“Who the hell is this?” Veronica screamed.
“This is Hiro.” Hiro was completely unperturbed. He added cheerfully, “I’m hanging up now. Bye-bye.”
He ended the call and turned off Kai’s phone as Kai rubbed his temples. He had a headache coming on.
“You really shouldn’t have done that,” he said.
“Just giving my outside perspective here: that conversation didn’t seem productive.” Hiro squeezed his shoulder. God, Kai wanted to hug him. Hold him. Be held.
“I made a mistake,” he said. “I should never have come here.”
“Of course you should have.”
“No, I’m sorry, you don’t understand.” Kai stepped back. “Veronica—my PR manager—is right. I left without telling anyone, and I have about fifteen people in my employment who are wondering where I am right now. I have scheduled interviews and promo shoots. Paychecks to sign and promo events to host….” He swallowed. “I’m so sorry, Hiro. I have to go back. Tonight.”
He felt pressure building behind his eyes as he said the words, but Hiro’s only response was to tilt his head back and release a bark of a laugh.
“What—”
Hiro interrupted him with a finger on his lips.
“I’m fairly certain that in the last hour or so, it has been established that I would dominate you in a wrestling match,” Hiro said. Kai felt hot like he was back in the water. “If you think I won’t tie you up before I let you leave this inn, you have another thing coming to you, my friend.”
All Kai’s atavistic brain could process was: He’s gay, he’s gay, he’s gay. And all the times he’s wrestled you—he was gay then, too.
“Don’t say I don’t understand,” Hiro added softly. He cupped Kai’s chin and lifted his head so that Kai had to look him in the eyes. “I know what it’s like to have responsibilities that you’d do anything to get away from. I was born an Asada, remember? From the time I was a baby, all I heard was ‘One day this inn will be yours; one day this will all be your responsibility, Hiro.’ Do you have any idea how much I hated that?”
Kai blinked. “But you love this inn. Being its owner is your… your calling.”
“Damn right it is,” said Hiro. “And you know how I know that?”
Kai shook his head.
“Because I escaped. I went to NYU. I lived on the other side of the world for four years, and by the time I had my degree, I knew that the only thing I wanted to do—what I wanted more than anything in the world—was run the Asada Inn. But I needed to leave home before I could realize where my home really was.”
“I never knew that.” Hiro had always seemed effortlessly mature to Kai, prepared to accept his duties with grace.
“This is your NYU, Kai. Your time away from home.” Hiro put his hands on his shoulders. “I know exactly how stressful it is to be away from your work. I’m not telling you to take some carefree holiday. You’re too selfless for that.” Hiro tucked Kai’s phone into the belt of his own robe. “But I’m not going to let you leave for New York reluctantly. When you check out of Asada Inn, it’ll be because you’re ready to go home again.”
He pulled Kai into his arms like he could read his mind. His embrace was the antidote to Kai’s stress, almost like dipping into the hot spring; all of the tension in his body melted away against Hiro’s warmth. He looked up at him. When had his best friend become so wise? Kai couldn’t think of any other person who could have persuaded him to stay tonight.
“Are you thinking about how sexy I am?” Hiro whispered.
Kai snorted. “I was thinking about what a dork you are.”
“I’m not the one who called me sexy,” Hiro said. “Don’t think I’ll let you live that down, by the way.”
“Damn you, Asada.”
Hiro spanked him and walked toward the sliding doors. “Let’s get some dinner, Kai-chan. You’ll stop talking nonsense once you’re full on some of my family’s cooking.”
Chapter Three
HIRO was not wrong. Once K
ai popped a mouthful of rare Kobe beef between his lips, he was transported to a heavenly realm where nothing existed except the tender smoked meat and the sound of roaring laughter as Hiro told some elaborate joke from across the room.
Kai was sitting on a cushion at a small, low table in a banquet room centered around a painting of Mount Haku. The Asada family was entertaining dozens of guests, delivering plate after plate of multicourse kaiseki-ryouri, while Kai had nothing to do but be served morsels of achingly delicious food and wash it all down with hot sake that warmed his bones.
Hiro went from table to table, talking to everyone. Kai liked watching him. Kai might have been the one with the TV show, but Hiro was so much more captivating. A few curious glances were made at Kai, either because he was half-white or because people were trying to place his face.
“Kai-chan.”
He flinched. He thought it was the first guest of the night to approach him for an autograph, but instead it was a familiar face. Sort of. It took a moment to place her.
She was a mix of chic and cheeky, with a pixie cut and dark lipstick that was at odds with the way the other women of the inn were modestly made up. She wore a dark blue kimono that glimmered with silver thread, scintillating like diamonds as she moved. She was unusually tall, probably taller than Kai, with broad shoulders, a mark of the Asada genes that usually only touched its men.
She cocked her head, pursing her painted lips. “Can I still call you Kai-chan? Or is it too strange now, like a stage name?”
“Risa,” Kai blurted, standing. “My God, you’ve grown up.”
The last time he’d seen Hiro’s cousin, she was nineteen years old and fresh out of high school. They’d grown up together, although she was always too young to interest Hiro when they were kids. Most of Kai’s memories of her featured her stomping away, slamming delicate shoji doors when Hiro wouldn’t let her hang out with them.
“Yeah, no ‘Kai-chan’ from friends, please,” he added. “Makes me feel like I’m about to be attacked by rabid fans.”
