Long Way Around

It was a murmur that woke him up, soft, almost a shadow tingling at the edge of a dream that started to fade as soon as he opened his eyes. The hotel room was dark, the curtains drawn shut on the night outside. It was still time for sleeping. But something awoke him, a name. His. He thought he’d heard Hiro call him, but he was asleep, breath slow and steady. They lay on the same bed, as they’d done for the past couple of nights. Money was growing low and they’d decided to stretch their budget by opting for single bed rooms rather than double beds. He’d been the one to suggest it, but when he felt Hiro brush against him in the night, unintentional touches as he shifted to get more comfortable, he wished he hadn’t been so hasty. For his skin tingled at the contact, stomach sinking with a ball of emotions tangled so tightly that couldn’t tell one from the other. When Hiro went missing at that diner, he thought the worry was going to eat him alive, mind exhausted by thoughts of Hiro stuck in some horrible past or future, victim of his own power. When he saw him walk through the door, his heart soared and he rushed forward, wanting to kiss him. The sudden desire shocked him. But hearing Hiro moan his name in his sleep shocked him even more.

“Ando.”

His whole body tensed up. His heartbeats grew so hard that they drowned out his hearing. He couldn’t have heard right. It was some misunderstanding. Hiro didn’t think of him that way. He didn’t. Did he?
He turned toward Hiro, wincing as the mattress creaked under his shoulder. He didn’t move, hardly dared breathe, eyes fixed on the shadow that was Hiro’s face. He couldn’t perceive more than vague outlines in the dark and it tortured him, guided by no more than Hiro’s breath, which thankfully remained unchanged. He dropped his head back against the pillow, but didn’t relax. He couldn’t. Maybe he had heard wrong. It was a mistake. No need to get any hopes raised, though it was already too late for that. He moved around, but couldn’t find a comfortable position, the pillow lumpy and aching under his head.

“Mmmm.”

Ando stilled. There was no mistaking what kind of hum that was. Hanging at the edge of a bated breath, he turned his head.

“Ando.”

Oh God.

“Do that again.”

Do what again? What was he, what were they doing in Hiro’s head? Were they... They were having sex, weren’t they? Hiro was dreaming about having sex. With him. Right now. In an unconscious move brought on by nervousness and no small amount of panic, he shifted his leg, bringing his knee up, and gasped as he touched what could only be an erection between Hiro’s legs. He didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t move, that might alert Hiro and he couldn’t wake him. What would he say? What would he do? It was just a dream, right, though people don’t dream about having sex with their best friends without desiring them while awake. Not that Ando could be sure.

“Please, Ando.”

Okay, he was sure. Maybe if he moved his leg really slowly, the tiniest bit. Hiro sighed, deep drawl and Ando shut his eyes, trying to breathe, anxiety and happiness overtaking his system, too much, too fast and he reached forward, hand stuttering as he questioned his own actions, but Hiro was calling his name and he wanted to, needed to. He gripped the blanket, breathing deep as he lifted it, baring Hiro’s body. Hiro wore only a T-shirt and boxers. He couldn’t see them, but knew they were there, remembering four hours ago when Hiro climbed into the bed next to him, complaining about how early they had to get up the next morning. It matched Ando’s thoughts, save for a lingering wish that he could lie closer. But it seemed that maybe that one was also in sync, wasn’t it? He placed his hand on Hiro’s side just above his hip, feeling his heat through the thin fabric of his shirt. Hiro sighed again and Ando thought he saw a smile stretch across his lips. Supporting himself on his elbow, he crawled closer, peering close to Hiro’s face. Yes, it was a smile. Joy flooded his heart. Yet, he was afraid to wake him. What if Hiro wasn’t as willing in his conscious state as he was now? The situation was too fragile. One wrong step and it might break. Part of him told him not to, that he should wake Hiro, make him aware, but what if he wasn’t so lucky? What if he was wrong? He dipped his hand inside Hiro’s boxers, stopping as his knuckles brushed the elastic, then kept going. It was too late to stop. He touched Hiro’s erection, his flesh hot under his fingers, and Hiro moaned, pushing himself against Ando’s palm..

"Ando."

It was an open invitation. How could he ever say no?

“Hiro,” he breathed, gripping him. He began to move, long, fast strokes, the kind he enjoyed, though Hiro might be different, but his quickening gasps told him that they were good enough. He felt Hiro’s breath hot on his face and his own pants grew tighter, his throat clenching as he struggled to keep his own breathing in check. Hiro came soon, his voice rising in a long moan that Ando wanted to taste with his mouth, but he didn’t dare. He felt Hiro go limp and withdrew his hand, rubbing the slickness on his fingers. Hiro settled back against the pillow, a dreamy, little grin nestling on his lips. The dream appeared to be over.

Getting up, he rushed to the bathroom and shut the door. Pushing his boxers around his thighs, he grabbed himself, remembering the exquisite feel of Hiro’s body hot against his. He didn't last much longer than Hiro did. For a long while, he sat at the edge of the bathtub, wondering how the hell he was going to face Hiro in the morning.

||||

"Have you ever wondered what the other 56 varieties are?"

"Mmm?" Ando barely glanced up from his plate.

Hiro nodded towards the bottle of Heinz tomato ketchup sitting on the table next to his waffles and Ando's French toast.

"It says 57 varieties," Hiro continued, "but I've never seen any variety other than this one."

"Maybe this is just the most popular one."

Ando didn't look at him as he spoke. He'd hardly done so the whole morning. Every time Hiro spoke, he avoided his eyes, responding with the shortest sentence possible. He appeared tense, worried by something, and Hiro was starting to freak out, suspecting what that something might be. That morning, he awoke with the memory of a delicious dream clinging not only to his eyelids, but also to his boxers. Ando was in the shower. He heard the sprinkling of the water, every drop blaring an alarm in his head. The blanket still covered him. Surely Ando hadn’t noticed anything, had he? He prayed not. If Ando knew... No, he couldn’t know. The notion was too terrible. Ando liked women, that was abundantly clear. If he found out about Hiro’s feelings, their friendship was over. It could never survive such a loaded weight. He held no hope that Ando would reciprocate his sentiments. Not once had he perceived the slightest glimmer that it might be so and he’d paid close attention, overanalyzing every conversation and stray glance since they’d arrived in the United States. So he kept quiet, preferring to pine in silence rather than risk losing him completely. But something had changed between last night and this morning and as the silence stretched between them, he grew more and more afraid that Ando had noticed his dream.

He pushed a piece of waffle into his mouth, chewing it without tasting it.

"Maybe I should drive today," he said.

"You hardly know how to drive."

"I do, too," Hiro bristled.

Ando finally lifted his head, a bit of his habitual humor visible on his face.

"Then how come you didn't take the car when we separated in Nevada?"

"I..." Hiro stuttered, part of him recognizing that maybe he didn't know the finer points of handling a car, but still, he wasn’t that bad.

"I was waiting for you," he said.

Ando quickly lowered his eyes. His hand clenched on the fork, but though he poked around the plate, he didn’t eat anything.

"Ando?" Hiro asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Why do you ask?" Ando's voice sounded strained despite his obvious effort to avoid it.

"You've been acting strangely the whole morning. And you won't look at me."

Ando froze, his whole body stiff. He glanced up at Hiro, tense eyes searching, but soon he looked away again. Hiro started to feel ill. He gripped his thighs, struggling to keep his breathing even.

“Something happened last night, didn’t it?” he asked, voice barely louder than a whisper.

Ando’s fork clattered on his plate and Hiro choked on his saliva. Suddenly, Ando pulled out his wallet, dropped some bills on the table, and grabbed him by the arm, pulling him up.

“Come on,” he said, not looking at him. “ We can’t talk here.”

Hiro followed him out of the diner, heart thumping so hard that he felt dizzy by the time they arrived behind the building, hidden away from prying eyes. Ando hadn’t turned toward him once in the entire way and now he paced around in a small circle, glancing up at Hiro without really looking at him.

“What is it?” Hiro asked, fighting to keep his fear out of his voice.

Ando quit moving, squeezing his hands on his hips.

"Last night," Ando began, his voice sounding overloud despite its low volume. “I heard you call my name.”

Hiro stopped breathing.

"You..." Ando continued. "It was obvious what you were dreaming about and I didn't know what to do. I never thought that you felt that way. About me."

Hiro tugged at the sleeves of his jacket, his fingernails digging into his palms.

"I understand," he said, his voice hollow.

"No. You really don't."

Hiro stared at him, baffled.

"In your sleep," Ando said, "you asked me to touch you. I didn't know what to do. I just reacted. I kinda jerked you off."

Wait. What?

"Huh?"

Ando's cheeks were bright red.

"I jerked you off," he repeated.

Hiro tried to think, Ando’s words taking small eternities to penetrate his brain, but when they did, he stepped close to Ando, his soul caught in his throat.

"So... you... liked it?" he ventured.

Ando looked at him sheepishly. "Yes. I really did."

"You like me?"

Ando nodded, a shy smile rising on his lips and joy swelled in Hiro’s chest. closely followed a surge of anger.

"Ow," Ando cried out as Hiro slapped him, staring at him as if he’d gone mad. "What was that for?"

"You made me think that you were angry at me, that you were disgusted with what you heard last night. You could have just said that you liked me, you idiot."

Yet as he spoke, a grin broke across his face, and he grabbed Ando by the shoulders, kissing him until he didn’t care about breathing anymore.