Shifting Sands

Chapter One

Nowaki eased his way out of traffic and gratefully pulled into a lane leading off onto a quieter felt his spirits rise as soon as the apartment building appeared through the slightly smoky glaze of his helmet's visor.

Trying not to speed too much, he opened the throttle and felt the power of the motorcycle's engine purr between his legs. A half-smile crooked his mouth as he thought about something or, more aptly, someone, he'd also like to feel pulsing between his lean thighs.

As he pulled into the apartment building's underground lot Nowaki tried to push his wanton thoughts aside.

Hiro-san had been tense and agitated lately (more so than usual) and the result of this was that they had not been intimate for weeks.

Knowing when to advance with his professor and when to abstain was a complicated choreography that had taken Nowaki years to master. He had been trying to give Hiro-san some space, but he was also growing increasingly aware that his own need for physical contact was reaching its limits.

Nowaki exhaled a soft breath of frustration that shifted into relief as he moved further into the dim lot, relishing the slightly cooler air the subterranean garage offered.

It was summer and Tokyo was sweltering.

A bead of sweat trickled down the side of his face as if to underscore this. Before he lifted his hand to wipe the wayward drop that now hung precariously from his jawline, Nowaki reached over and pushed a buttoned control that hung from the key in his bike's ignition.

Ahead of him in the midst of a bank of small enclosed garages tucked back against the far wall, a door quietly slid open.

The small smile that still occupied Nowaki's lips bloomed into sudden fullness.

He'd waited months for one of these small-doored stalls to become available before purchasing his motorcycle. It was an added fee, but now that he was a full-fledged surgeon he could afford it easily. Along with the mortgage on his and Hiro-san's apartment.

Nowaki cut the power to his bike and coasted into the tiny garage.

Besides, it was worth it to protect his new ride.

Dropping the kickstand, he dismounted gracefully, his long legs making the process look effortless.

Undoing the chin strap, he pulled the helmet off and wiped his sweaty forehead with his forearm before setting the black hood on the seat of the bike. He knew better than to bring the helmet upstairs with him and chance Hiro-san seeing it. The motorcycle had been a sore spot between them.

The grin on Nowaki's face dimmed slightly.

He had suggested that they get a car. But Hiro-san had adamantly refused, saying it was ecologically irresponsible and that Tokyo's transit systems were more than adequate.

In truth, however, Nowaki thought it had maybe a bit more to do with the older man's pride: not knowing how to drive and not liking the notion of being chauffeured around.

Still, Nowaki had decided he needed some form of alternate transportation.

Being on call as he often was, there were times when an emergency meant he had to get to the clinic immediately. Working around the schedule of buses and trains cost precious minutes.

When he had first proposed the idea of the motorcycle as an alternative to a car, Hiro-san had protested no less vehemently. Nowaki, however, had made his decision.

Seeing this, after his initial outburst, Hiroki had remained silent on the matter and stood stoically by, watching as Nowaki had moved forward with his plans.

Hiroki had, however, begun not-so-subtly leaving out pages of statistics on motorcycle fatalities and news stories about recent bike accidents he'd printed off the net. He left them in places where Nowaki was sure to find them.

Regardless of this, Nowaki had purchased a motorcycle anyway.

I'm a man of almost thirty years now, after all, and not an easily awed teenager any more.

Considering this, Nowaki stepped back and admired his steel steed.

He'd had the Yamaha now for three months but he was still filled with a certain quiet pride every time he saw it. The polished bright blue paint and gleaming chrome of the FZ-1 shone under the pale light of its private quarters.

While the motorcycle might not have been the most expensive model, it was a far cry from the raggedy scooters he had spent so much of his youth on, making deliveries or running errands for his various jobs. And there was no argument the bike was good looking.

A little like sex on wheels, Nowaki thought.

Unable to resist, his mind drifted to the only thing he found more arousing: his Hiro-san.

Despite the contention over the motorcycle or perhaps because of it, Nowaki's favorite fantasy of late popped up unbidden: Hiro-san, naked, bent over the seat of the FZ-1.

He could too easily imagine his lover's taut arms outstretched, scholarly hands white-knuckled, gripping the handlebars. Nowaki pictured his lover's muscled shoulders beneath him as he rode both the bike and the man.

While he knew that such a fantasy would never occur, the sheer mechanics of it impossible, he could still easily envision the much more realistic possibility of taking Hiro-san here in the privacy of the garage.

Nowaki had a sudden flash and saw Hiro-san, back bowed, lean forearms resting on the slick black leather saddle, offering up his glorious ass.

Then he imagined taking his fiery partner yet another way.

Lifting Hiro-san up off the ground, Hiro-san's muscular legs wrapped around his hips as he fucked him up against one of the narrow walls.

Nowaki could almost smell the scent of their sex mingled amidst the heavier odors of oil and exhaust. His ears tickled with the imagined sounds growling up from Hiro-san's throat and echoing off the concrete walls as he reached the pinnacle of his ecstasy.

The sharp honk of a car's horn off in the distance of the garage broke Nowaki from his reverie.

He ran his fingers through his thick, damp hair and sighed.

His other hand drifted unconsciously to the front of his jeans as he adjusted the denim to ease the hard ache now trapped there.

Nowaki stood quietly a few minutes and willed his arousal to subside, knowing that he must keep his desire in check… at least a little longer.

He clicked off the light and exited his bike's stall, watching as the electric door dropped down. Once he was sure that the Yamaha was secured, Nowaki moved over to the stairs and began the ascent to his seventh floor apartment.

Nowaki could have easily taken the elevator, but the stairs were good exercise and the climb also offered him a small extra space in his hectic day for contemplation.

It had been two years since he had finished his residency and left the hospital. Now he was a surgeon working at a clinic that specialized in pediatric care.

It had been hard to leave the hospital, but the promise for advancement was much higher at the clinic and though he had only been there a short time, he had already earned an excellent reputation and was well respected, even by some of the senior surgical staff.

Nowaki supposed that the transfer might have been a harder transition to make if Tsumori-senpai hadn't decided to make the move to the clinic as well, not long after he had left.

Despite his sometimes disreputable ways, Tsumori was a good doctor and Nowaki had long enjoyed their brotherly rapport.

Nowaki counted each level as he climbed the flights to his floor. With every riser, he consciously sought to leave some part of his stressful, busy day behind him.

He would lay down a child's case with each step, promising to pick it up on his way back down the next morning. Nowaki worked hard to attain a certain serenity, to have his mind cleared so that when he arrived at the apartment he would be able to be fully present for the precious little time he had with Hiro-san.

The summer heat and humidity ensured that by the time he reached his floor the thin tee-shirt he'd donned before leaving the clinic clung even more damply to his muscular frame. Nowaki shook his head.

Such weather could make anyone irritable… although some more than others it seems.

He hoped that the change in climate on the trip he and Hiro-san would soon be taking might serve to improve his partner's mood.

Unless it was he and not the weather that was causing Hiro-san's lately increased shortness.

A long-stilled fear suddenly quivered within Nowaki's broad chest.

We have been together for twelve years now after all. What if Hiro-san has finally grown tired of me?

Reaching the door to his shared apartment Nowaki stopped before going in. The brass nameplate beside the door had caught his attention, as it always did. He slowly extended a single long finger and reverently traced the engraved name that shone there.

"Kamijou"

The sudden tightness in his chest eased. He could hear Hiro-san's admonishing voice clearly in his head.

Twelve years and you're still thinking stupid, Brat?

Nowaki followed the lines of the characters again tenderly, soothed by the action.

"You're right, Hiro-san," he whispered.

After all, why would Hiro-san have gone to all the trouble he had to legally adopt him and share his family name with him if he wanted something else, or someone else?

The subtle tension that marred Nowaki's handsome face melted as he recalled Hiro-san's proposal to adopt him eighteen months ago.

His shoulders straightened as his heart filled with pride.

He recalled how bravely Hiro-san had presented his orphan lover to his parents, requesting they not object to his adoption of "the one I want to be with." Nor would He ever discount the respect Hiro-san had shown his own "father," Director Kusama, when he'd taken him back to the orphanage to ask the same.

"Kamijou Nowaki."

Though his colleagues at the clinic still knew him as Kusama, with the exception of Tsumori, it still pleased Nowaki to no end to think of himself in this way.

He was no longer an orphan: someone had claimed him. The one person he'd wanted to belong to more than anyone else in the world.

With this thought the last of Nowaki's uneasiness left him.

He took out his key and opened the apartment door. It no longer mattered what mood Hiro-san might be in, Nowaki was anxious to go inside and be reunited with his family.

So here I am returning to FF. I have previously been writing under the pennames of Don't Preach and Cerberus Revised, but I thought I'd celebrate my shifts in consciousness with a new name and a new story. If you'd like to know more about my recent hiatus and the new name, I have a longer explanation on my profile page.

I will be re-uploading all my stories under the tag "Daniel Lazerus" and continuing to work on them, though not at the same previous pace of updating.

For those of you who are interested to know, this story will be along the lines of a novella and while there will be moments of conflict, I intend to keep it out of the rut of darkness and angst that I had fallen into prior to my "retreat."

I have missed this community immensely and am incredibly grateful to be back. I also owe a tremendous debt of gratitude for all the wonderful readers who have stood by me, offered their support, and patiently waited for my return. I extend a deep, humble and heartfelt thanks to you.

Hope you like this new piece and the forthcoming updates on my other tales.

An additional cultural note for those of you who may not know this.

Adult adoption in Japan is not only legal, but it is a common practice (it is particularly common for adult males to be adopted into an already existing family) . The only requirements are that the adopter must be older, even if only by a matter of days, than the adoptee, and the petition of adoption cannot be contested by other family members.

It is actually very difficult, due to the structure of the Japanese society and its laws, for a child to be adopted even if the child has been placed in an orphanage. In order for a child to be legally adopted, the parents must relinquish their rights to the child. Many parents will not do this because, despite the fact they have turned the care of their child over to social services, the parents may still have the expectation that when the child is released from custody (usually between the ages of fourteen and sixteen) that the child will return to them to help take care of the family.

As Nowaki's parents were unknown, he could never be legally adopted as a child because the parental rights could not be relinquished. He could, however, be adopted as an adult.

Gay marriage is not sanctioned in Japan, unless the couple gets married abroad in a country where same sex marriage is legal and then returns to Japan. To get around this, while it is not extremely common, in some same sex relationships, one person will choose to adopt his/her partner as a means of formalizing their union and as a way to provide his/her partner with legal rights in domestic matters. So this is what I have had Hiroki do here in this story.