Hitomi remembers it vividly; it’s one of his core memories from that time in his life.
It had been a warm spring day. The sky was a deep, saturated blue, the trees couldn’t have been greener; the air felt crisp and clean. The whole day seemed orchestrated for a picture-perfect picnic date.
But he wasn’t outside that day. He had somewhere else to be: his boyfriend’s place.
He’d been there a few times before, enough to know the way on his own, enough to feel somewhat safe there. Still, it was never a pleasant place to visit. The house was always crowded with his boyfriend’s siblings yelling, sticking their noses into everything, their mother shouting at them over the noise of the television, which was always blaring in the background, and on the rare days the father was home, he’d just sit in front of it, eyes fixed on the screen, saying nothing.
It was a world apart from Hitomi’s own home. He used to find comfort in its quietness, the way the empty apartment would greet him after school, cold but familiar, before his parents returned from work. Back then, he never thought much of the silence, but after he began visiting his boyfriend’s place, he found himself missing it. The stillness of his own room and the peace that used to fill it.
Whenever Hitomi stood before his boyfriend’s front door, he always took a moment to gather his courage, knowing full well he was about to step into a house brimming with contained chaos.
It was usually his boyfriend’s mother who greeted him. She was a cold-looking woman with unkempt hair; though she smiled politely, Hitomi could sense that his presence wasn’t truly welcomed. Once, he’d overheard her mutter “another mouth to feed” under her breath, thinking he wouldn’t notice. From then on, he carried the weight of that remark, and he began bringing small gifts each time he visited, sweets, snacks or some drinks to share. This was his unspoken attempt to make his presence feel a little less heavy, both for her and for himself.
But that day, the one he can’t forget, Hitomi was greeted by his boyfriend himself. Cheerful, smiling, that same dark yet charming grin he always wore. At first, Hitomi didn’t think much of it, but it wouldn’t take him long to realise what it meant for his boyfriend to be the one opening the door.
“Hitomi-kun! Been waitin’ for ya. What’d you bring?” he asked, his voice bright, almost too bright, as Hitomi handed him the small bag of goodies and slipped off his shoes.
“Just some snacks I picked up on the way,” Hitomi said, glancing around. The house was strangely still. No shouting, no television, no footsteps running across the floorboards. “Where’s everyone?”
“They left early this mornin’, off to see some aunt who’s sick in bed or somethin’,” he said, a small laugh slipping out. “She’s probably fine, they just like makin’ a fuss.”
“Oh…” Hitomi hesitated. “And you didn’t go?” The thought of being alone together crept in slowly; it wasn't unpleasant, just… different, strange in a way he couldn’t name.
“Nah, didn’t feel like goin’. Mum would’ve been yellin’ the whole drive anyway.” He stepped closer, with an arm sliding around Hitomi’s shoulders. “Besides,” he murmured in a lower voice, “didn’t wanna cancel on you.”
Hitomi’s breath caught; the sudden closeness made his chest tighten, half flustered, half uneasy, though he couldn’t tell exactly why.
“I see… well, that means we can have all the snacks I brought!” he said quickly, trying to sound cheerful. “What time do they come back? Should we leave some for them?”
“Tomorrow, I think. They always go for the weekend.” He leaned in a bit, grin turning playful. “So… looks like we got the whole house to ourselves.”
“Yeah… sounds fun! We can keep playing that one part of Biohazard we’re stuck in,” Hitomi replied with an energised smile.
Deep down, he knew something about the situation was off, not bad, just a little too quiet, too conveniently intimate. Still, he didn’t care; he loved his boyfriend. He wanted to stay, to enjoy the small, ordinary happiness of being near him. The empty house felt peaceful, almost like it belonged to them alone. So he decided to let the strangeness fade into the background and just… enjoy it. The games, the junk food, the laughter. The warmth of being together, pretending this moment could last forever.
Maybe it was a little strange, but love made even the strangest things feel right.
-
They moved to the living room, sitting on the floor in front of the TV, controllers in hand. The snacks were spread between them, within easy reach. The dim afternoon light fell through the curtains, and the quiet hum of the house made the space feel intimate in a way it never had before.
Hitomi’s boyfriend nudged him with his shoulder, a little harder than needed. “Oi, careful! you’re gonna get grease all over the controller.”
“I know, I know,” Hitomi said with a soft laugh, brushing his fingers on his jeans. But the nudge lingered a little longer than it should have, and when he glanced sideways, his boyfriend’s hand seemed to brush his arm again, this time almost deliberately.
They fell into a rhythm, alternating turns with the controller, teasing each other over mistakes in the game, laughing at ridiculous jumps or zombie attacks. But Hitomi noticed how his boyfriend’s hand kept drifting closer, resting near his knee, occasionally brushing against his side; it was subtle but very intentional. Each “accidental” touch made Hitomi’s chest flutter; part of him was flustered, part of him thrilled.
Hitomi let himself enjoy everything: the teasing, the laughter, the game, the snacks, the warmth of his boyfriend’s closeness, the way he couldn’t quite keep his hands off him. Just the two of them, together, in a sunlit, quiet living room.
Looking back, this was the calm before the storm.
“Wait,” his boyfriend said suddenly, pausing mid-round. “Just remembered! That new game my mate lent me is in my bag upstairs.”
Hitomi looked up, bright-eyed, “new one? Really?”
“Well… not new-new, came out last year. Silent Hill? You’ve heard of it, yeah?” He grinned, a little proud. “C’mon, I left it in my room.”
Hitomi hesitated, “Right now?”
“Yeah! Why not? You’ve got to see it!”
-
The TV hummed behind them as Hitomi followed, the living room’s warmth faded with every step until only the soft sound of their socks against the floorboards remained.
His boyfriend’s room was dim, and the curtains were half drawn; a faint scent of deodorant hung in the air, mixed with something sharp, like the faint musk of a closed-off space. His clothes were scattered near the bed, and a half-zipped bag rested on the floor.
“Sit,” his boyfriend said, crouching to dig through his bag. Hitomi perched on the edge of the bed, folding his hands neatly on his knees. The sound of zippers and rustling filled the silence before the other finally turned, holding up a case with a flash of triumph.
“There.” He smirked, holding up the cover. “Silent Hill, creepy-lookin’, huh?”
“Wow,” Hitomi said softly, leaning closer. “You really got the game…”
“Borrowed it off a mate,” his boyfriend said lightly, tossing it onto the bed before sitting beside him. Their knees touched for a second before Hitomi instinctively shifted a little, just enough to hide how his pulse jumped.
Then the older boy turned to him, voice low but easy. “Hey.”
“Mm?”
“Wanna kiss?”
Hitomi blinked, startled. “Now?”
“Yeah, why not?” The tone wasn’t demanding, but more like teasing, like he thought it was a small, obvious thing.
Hitomi hesitated; the space between them suddenly felt too close, too private. He could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, quick and loud. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to do it; it was just… too odd from what he was used to.
“Okay,” he whispered finally, his voice barely audible.
His boyfriend smiled then, softer this time, and leaned in.
The kiss began like all the others, soft, familiar, something he knew. But then suddenly, something changed. The pressure deepened, a tongue pushed in unexpectedly, and a strange warmth startled him.
Hitomi’s breath caught, and his heart stuttered. For a moment, he didn’t know what to do; the closeness felt overwhelming, his heart beat so fast he could feel it in his skin. It wasn’t unpleasant, just foreign, something his body hadn’t learned to understand yet.
When his boyfriend finally pulled back, smiling faintly, Hitomi’s face was hot. He looked down, his fingers curled against his knees.
“Hey,” his boyfriend murmured, still sounding casual, “you okay?”
Hitomi nodded quickly, though he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. His lips tingled, his chest felt tight.
“Did you like it? Wanna do that again?” his boyfriend whispered to his ear, while placing a hand on his thigh, a bit higher than what Hitomi would have predicted.
Hitomi nodded again. He had kept his hands to himself the whole time up until now, until he reached out tentatively, finding his boyfriend’s hand and holding it. something steady to anchor himself against whatever came next.
His boyfriend leaned in again, this time with more intent. The kiss deepened, and though Hitomi kept his eyes closed, his lashes trembled faintly, a detail his boyfriend found almost unbearably endearing.
A hand drifted higher along his leg; the warmth of it was steady and disarming. When it reached a place that made his body jolt in surprise, the movement paused.
“Hey… It’s just me,” the boy murmured against his lips, voice low and careful.
Hitomi tried to breathe, but his thoughts were a blur. The closeness, the heat, the unfamiliarity, it was all too much, and yet not enough. A quiet sound escaped him, a half gasp, half sigh, swallowed by the next kiss.
“Hitomi, it’s okay” his boyfriend whispered softly, his eyes locked onto him. “We’ll take it slow, yeah? Just trust me.”
His words were oddly gentle; they made Hitomi catch a sense of artificial calm. He nodded, and with a voice barely audible, he said “o-okay”.
-
Hitomi remembers the details of that afternoon very vividly even today. How their hands roamed tentatively at first, just brushing, learning the curves and planes of each other’s bodies, learning what felt good… and what didn’t. Hitomi’s palms were sweaty, his breath shallow, but he understood that this was the sensation of desire without fear, that strange delight of being cared for while being taken into new territory.
At times, his boyfriend paused, letting Hitomi adjust, he searched on his face for any sign of hesitation —there were many, but Hitomi’s words said otherwise.
Hitomi’s chest heaved, his body trembled, his hands gripped the edge of the mattress.
And then, when the moment came, his boyfriend whispered “You ready?” in a soft voice while brushing a lock of hair from Hitomi’s forehead. Hitomi nodded, barely able to speak from the overwhelming situation. He didn’t truly know if he was ready, only that turning back felt impossible now. So he said yes, perhaps more to convince himself than anyone else.
And then slowly and carefully, his boyfriend pushed himself forward. At first, it sent a sharp sting through Hitomi’s body, his breath hitched and his back arched instinctively, as if he was trying to pull away. The pain mingled with pleasure, and the confusion melted with longing. Hitomi froze for a moment, his heart jumped frantically, and his eyes shut tight. Then, without thinking, his lips parted as a whimper escaped.
“I… it hurts…” Hitomi whispered, his voice trembled, and yet he didn’t pull away. His heart was full —full of love, full of trust —and he wanted to endure this pain for him.
His boyfriend’s hand cupped Hitomi’s burning cheek, and he ran his thumb tenderly over the flushed skin. “I know, I know… I’ll go slow, I’ll make it feel good, I promise.” He shifted carefully, adjusting his angle, trying to ease every sharp edge, whispering sweet encouragements, caresses, and praises.
“You feel so damn warm, Hitomi,” he breathed. “You’re makin’ me the happiest guy in the world… swear you’re perfect.”
Hitomi’s muscles were tense; they clenched instinctively at the touch. Each movement pressed into his body in a way that made him gasp and shiver. The pain lingered, but there was also an underlying warmth, intimacy, and the feeling of being cared for with a sense of devotion. Every whisper, every gentle press of his hands, every small adjustment felt like a wordless promise that his boyfriend would not let him fall.
He bit his lip, trying to focus on the brief moments of pleasure that flared among the sharpness. Hitomi let himself feel the closeness, the shared breath, the press of their bodies together. His boyfriend’s hands roamed over him, guiding, holding, making him shiver with careful touches that translated into loving words that assured him he was safe.
Hitomi breathed rapidly while his body trembled. Tears were gathering on the corners of his eyes, which shone with everything he felt: trust, adoration, and longing. His pain mingled with pleasure; it was so good he endured it willingly, holding onto every gentle touch and encouraging whisper.
“You’re doing so well,” his boyfriend whispered as he adjusted and held Hitomi’s warm and strained length in his hand, rubbing slow and soothing circles on the sensitive spots. “I’ve got you,” he added, while guiding Hitomi into sensations he’d never known before.
Hitomi’s back arched involuntarily, his muscles relaxed in small, hesitant waves with each press and stroke. The pain hadn’t fully vanished; it stayed there as a sharp reminder of his inexperience, but now it mixed with something achingly sweet. Pleasure began to bloom alongside the sting, and Hitomi let himself feel it, with cheeks flushed and hands trembling as they clutched at the sheets.
“Feels good… right?” his boyfriend’s voice was soft but insistent, coaxing him, watching every reaction. Hitomi nodded. The words failed him, muffled with his own shyness, but he felt it— the pressure inside him, the guiding hands touching his core, and the whispers of his boyfriend against his skin. He understood that this mixture wasn’t something to be afraid of, that he could be fine exploring new worlds as long as his boyfriend was next to him, guiding him into them.
Hitomi’s body couldn’t hold back any longer, and a hot, shaking shiver ran from the crown of his head down to the tip of his toes. This strange and jolting wave that he was feeling for the first time erupted with a mixture of contained sighs and demure moans. The pain and the pleasure blurred together in waves, his body quivered in reserved shakes as the fullness of the moment consumed him.
His boyfriend felt it too right after, the image of Hitomi spent, flushed and red below him was overwhelming enough to push him over the edge. And with a low, hoarse groan, he followed, gripping Hitomi close as he released inside, slumping slowly over Hitomi and resting his temple against his shoulders while slowing down his movements.
-
They spent a few minutes just breathing, as if their breaths had been scattered across the room and they were slowly gathering them back again. The air felt different now, warmer, quieter, almost weightless.
Hitomi lay on his back, eyes fixed on the ceiling, still trying to catch up with what had just happened. His mind was blank and loud all at once. There was disbelief in him, yes, but also a soft glow that spread through his chest, a realisation that they had crossed some invisible line together.
It wasn’t how he had imagined it, though he’d never really imagined it much at all. He knew people their age were meant to be curious, to explore, but he had never felt in a hurry. Now, with the hum of the old television filling the silence and his boyfriend’s hand resting loosely against his, it didn’t feel rushed or wrong, just real.
“See? You did fine”, his boyfriend remarked with a teasing grin.
Hitomi tried to speak, but all that came out was a shaky, half-laughing breath.
“Come on, get dressed, we still have some zombies to kill!” his boyfriend nudged at his arm, shaking him gently. “Let’s finish that soon so we can try this one out, okay?” he pointed at the game box from earlier, tossed on the desk.
With a small groan, he rolled out of the bed, he was careful not to put pressure on the spots that still ached with a burning ghost. He got dressed silently, catching himself staring at his reflection in the mirror hanging on the door. His cheeks were flushed, and his hair was a mess. Tentatively, he ran a finger down where he’d been stretched and taken for the first time, he winced at tender, raw sensation, he was still in awe. A quiet thought passed through him that this day would stay with him, whether he wanted it to or not.
By the time he returned to the bedroom, his boyfriend was sitting cross-legged on the floor with the controller in hand, casual as if nothing had shifted between them. Hitomi paused in the doorway, his cheeks still felt flushed, still processing the full weight of the intimacy.
“Hey, you fine?” the older boy asked while making space next to him for Hitomi to sit. Hitomi nodded and sat down, he felt a slight wobble on his legs, “yeah, all good”.
“Hitomi, there’s one thing I gotta ask you, okay? But you have to promise me you will do it?” Hitomi turned and raised an innocent eyebrow. Whatever he asked, he knew he would say yes. “You don’t tell anyone about today, okay? My mum would kill me if she knew we did this while she was away”
Hitomi stared at him for a moment, heart fluttering. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected to hear, but he nodded without thinking, “I won’t,” he said softly.
His boyfriend’s grin came back, easy and teasing again. “Good. ’Cause we got a game to finish, yeah? Don’t want anyone interruptin’ our… streak.” He gestured lazily toward the snacks, the controllers, the ordinary living room around them, as if nothing unusual had happened at all.
When the game resumed, laughter and light teasing filled the quiet house once more. Hitomi found himself sneaking small glances at him between rounds, his heart still fluttering with something too big to name. The thought settled softly in his chest. That this, somehow, would stay with him forever. It felt like the most ordinary day, and yet, the most intimate of his sixteen years.
-
They didn’t get to finish the game that evening. “Next time for sure!” his boyfriend promised, grinning. The mere idea of a next time made Hitomi’s heart tremble with anticipation. “Yeah! Next time we’ll finish it,” he said, smiling back, holding on to the thought like a promise.
When he finally stepped outside, the warm spring air brushed against his skin. Each step felt heavier than the last; his legs wobbled slightly, his body sore in places he hadn’t expected. A dull ache followed him like a shadow. And yet, despite it, a small, proud smile tugged at his lips.
As he walked down the familiar streets toward home, he caught himself smiling at the thought of the secret they now shared, the warmth that lingered in his chest, the faint soreness in his body, the leftover heat on his skin. Everything felt like a badge of private honour, or a testament of the intimacy and trust he just gave… and received.
He unlocked the apartment door and stepped inside. Silence greeted him, the same kind of silence that had filled his boyfriend’s house earlier, only this one felt colder, emptier. He stood there for a moment, listening to it, realising how loud it could be when there was no one left to share it with.
By the time his parents came home, the sun had already dipped below the houses. Hitomi was sitting on the couch, the TV on but muted, a book open in his lap though he hadn’t been reading for a while.
“Did you eat?” his mother asked as she slipped off her shoes.
“Yeah,” he said quickly. “I just stayed home today. Read a bit, played some games.”
She smiled, distracted as she unpacked her bag. “Thank god you’re so independent, Hitomi. You lift a big weight off my shoulders.”
He smiled back, even though the words stung a little. Something in him wished she’d asked more where he’d really been, what he’d done, how he was feeling. But instead, he swallowed that small ache and held onto the one thing her words did give him: a sense of quiet pride.
Maybe it was okay that she didn’t ask for more. He had to keep his promise. Maybe it was okay that no one knew. Maybe it made what happened feel even more his, something untouched by the rest of the world.
In the quiet that followed, Hitomi convinced himself that silence was another way of loving, that keeping it secret was proof of its truth. For a while, that thought was enough to make the loneliness bearable, almost sacred.
-
Now, so many years later, Hitomi remembers that day with a nostalgia so bittersweet it feels almost alive, like a wound that learned to breathe. He sees himself in that dim living room, the glow of the old television washing over two boys who believed the world had paused just for them, and he wishes, sometimes desperately, that he could reach through the fog of time to stop his younger self before walking into that fate.
Yet even now, he cannot bring himself to truly regret it. Because beneath the bitterness, beneath the ache that time never managed to dull, there still lingers the warmth of that first love, fragile and complete, as if a part of him were still there, suspended in that spring afternoon, loving and being loved with all the innocence of someone who did not yet know how cruel remembrance could be.
With time, he learned that love does not vanish; it ferments. What remains of it now is only the aftertaste: a tender, rotten memory that still clings to his tongue.