An Aperture Apart

*

She saw Paul through the glass that separated the pool deck from the Y's lower level hallway. He seemed relaxed, seated in a tall chair, dressed in an orange tank top and red shorts. Occasionally he shook out his feet, tapping his flip flops against his soles. His hands rested on a long red safety buoy, draped across his lap. Aiko thought she'd find him staring off into space, but instead he was scanning the lanes with a calm attentiveness.

Paul's head turned to look in her direction as soon as she opened the door to the pool. He hopped out of the tall chair and bounded towards her, his face bright with pleasant surprise.

"Aiko. What's up?"

"Not much, just wanted to see for myself when Hannah said you were a lifeguard."

"It is an awesome job," he glowed.

"Anyway, you get off soon right?"

"Yeah, in ten minutes."

"Hannah's in class till late tonight. She said your parents are going to be in the city until late, too. You think you'd want to get some dinner when you're done?"

Paul grinned, trying in vain not to.

*

"Have you been here before?" Aiko asked.

"A couple times, not lately though."

"Anything you'd recommend?"

"Um..." Paul searched the menu up and down carefully. "I think the teriyaki was pretty good."

"Okay, let's get that then," she said. "Would you mind if I ordered some sake as well?

He looked up and shook his head. "No, not at all. You should get whatever you want."

Their meal arrived minutes later. It took everything for Paul to not scarf down his food.

"Do you want to try some of this?" Aiko asked, the small sake bottle in one hand. She pointed at the two cups they'd been given. She thought it was only polite to ask.

He studied the tiny cup on the table. "Sure."

Smiling, Aiko tipped the sake into the thimble-sized vessels. They each took one and reached out for a toast.

"Kampai," she said happily.

They threw back the sake. Aiko sucked it down and exhaled in one long, satisfied gasp. Paul gulped, then breathed deeply.

"What was that, like 'toast' in Japanese?" he said, tears welling up at the corners of his eyes.

"Yes. How was it?"

He wiped the tears away and sighed. "Actually, not as bad as I thought."

"Your first time?"

"Nah," he shrugged. "I've had a beer or two before."

"Enough to know you hate it, huh?"

"This I think is okay," he said, nodding slightly.

"Have another then." She quickly poured him another cup.

"You trying to get me drunk?" He laughed.

"Oh, I think it'd take more than a couple of cups, to be honest."

"Probably." He lifted the cup to his lips and devoured the drink.

By the end of dinner, Paul was too tipsy to go home right away.

"My parents will bust me for sure," he said. He took his foot off the basketball under the table and produced it for Aiko to see. "Maybe we shoot some hoops and burn it off?"

"Sure," she said, hardly affected by the alcohol. "But I have to say, I'm not much of an athlete."

"Then maybe we'll be even." Paul watched the ball twirl on the back of his knuckle.

*

"I can't believe half a bottle was all it took," she said, tossing him the ball. "I had as much as you did."

They stood a few yards away from the hoop, at the center of a small tree-lined park. Yellow and white street lights peeked through the thick leaves.

"Whatever," Paul said casually. He made a shot and missed. The ball fell to the ground with a rubbery 'bing' and bounced away. He jogged past the hoop to retrieve it.

Aiko didn't really see how this would "burn it off," as he had put it. At least he was in his element and comfortable. She wasn't about to challenge him to a one-on-one. That would just be futile. She planted her hands on the back of her hips and studied him as he made his way back to her, blankly dribbling the ball. Apart from his face, Paul could hardly pass for just an eighteen year old. Boyish curves still lingered in his gently dimpled chin, the sides of his nose, the prominent corners of his jaw ... the ruddy, high turns of his cheekbones. At eighteen he was young but already devastatingly handsome in a subtly clean, American way. He was perpetually dressed in the modest cuts and shades of an athletic city teen. Such a sharp contrast to Ander's tight-fitting clothes in day-glo colors. Aiko flinched involuntarily—something in her stung at the thought.

Paul leapt slightly for another shot—this time farther away, and made it.

"I think you should probably have some water," she remarked, remembering the stone drinking fountain at a shady corner of the park.

"Good idea." He sighed softly and started trudging behind Aiko's lead.

"Are you going to be okay?" she asked, glancing back at him.

"Yeah, fine." His downcast eyes appeared clouded. He shook his head slowly, visibly uneasy about the loss of control that came with being drunk.

They paused at the fountain, where Paul leaned over the upward arc of water. Aiko sat down at a nearby bench, sucking in a lungful of clear night air.

"It's starting to get a little colder," she said absently.

Several moments later he had his fill of water and joined her on the bench, wiping away the moisture on his lips with his hand. A low car blasting loud reggaeton music glided by the park, temporarily drowning out the silence. It turned a corner and was suddenly far away.

"What kind of music do you listen to?" Paul asked her, as if prompted.

"Almost anything," Aiko shrugged, unable to single out any genre in particular. "You?"

"Lately, reggae." He grinned, his gaze lingering on her face. "—it's nice to be important, but more important to be nice—"

Aiko couldn't keep from grinning.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whooaa—" Paul continued, obviously enjoying himself.

"You are way too drunk," she quipped. "I'm never treating you to sake again."

"I'll just have to fly to Japan to get some for myself."

"Sure you're not going for all the little Japanese girls?" Aiko surprised herself with her own question. To him, it must come out of nowhere.

"Naw," he said, leaning back, "I actually don't usually like Asian girls."

"Really."

"Really."

They studied each other for several extended moments. Aiko looked away. In the dim light of where they sat she didn't see Paul lean in to press a kiss on the corner of her mouth. It was soft and tentative, made warm by his suddenly labored breathing.

"Oh." She silently formed the word with her mouth, momentarily frozen.

"Sorry," he said, his voice a bare whisper. Paul's face was still held close, searching her eyes for a more legible response.

Aiko uttered nothing but gazed at his lips, mimicking them by parting her own, her eyes heavy and damp. It was the signal he needed. Paul tipped towards her for the second time, this time capturing her mouth in a more surefooted kiss, his breath hot with the sweet odor of sake. He probed her lips with the velvet tip of his tongue, nipping it now and then between his gentle teeth. A barely audible groan escaped from deep within her throat. She returned the kiss with a slowly mounting frenzy. Like clockwork, a dull ache started to unfold and pool in her stomach. Aiko's knees pulled close together as Paul laid a broad, warm hand on the curve of her waist, the added contact sending a brilliant shudder through her lower back.

They broke the kiss for several seconds to catch their breath. Paul's eyes were closed as he gently huffed. When he reopened them they were black with want, his eyebrows heavily knotted. He gently pulled her to him, closing the distance between them. Aiko clutched at his shirt for balance, feeling his heart beat in double time. A fine sheen of perspiration showed on his neck and forehead. She felt her nipples harden into tender points.

"Paul." Her voice was low, faintly trembling. He eagerly tilted his head, prepared to kiss her again. His mouth found the tender, sensitive skin of her neck, just below her earlobe.

"Paul," she repeated. "You have to go home."

He drew back to study her eyes, not sure what to say.

"Our parents are probably wondering where we are," she said glumly. The mention of parents reminded them both of the futility of the evening's situation. Neither of them had their own place.

"Okay."

They reluctantly broke their embrace, still panting softly from their encounter.

***

Providence

Sept 25

I hate more than anything that A lied to me. I had never thought I'd be one of those idiot girls that believed a guy's bullshit when he said he wanted to spend the rest of his life with them. Two years of my life, gone. The fact that I can't even cry about the break up is an embarrassment. The whole thing amounts to nothing.

Aiko paused, then continued writing.

My one consolation is the fact that I used A as much as he used me. I made sure he knew it, and he does. I'm sure he also knows that I hate his work. He knows he was only good for the fuck.

She snapped the journal shut and threw it on the nightstand, as if in severe disgust.

Two weeks had passed since she returned to the dorm in Providence. She loathed herself for continuing the entries this way, but they gnawed at the tissue of her brain unless she emptied them out. Perhaps this was her way of grieving, she thought. Each letter was a tear she couldn't bring herself to shed, but could be put to paper quite easily.

Aiko surveyed her small bedroom, relieved to be its single occupant. She could hear her suite mate preparing breakfast in the kitchen.

Got to pull together. She steeled herself and stood up, gathering her things for class. Her phone buzzed. She slid it open and was met with a message from Hannah.

Paul left home this AM, I think to find you. Call me if you see him.

She stared blankly at the screen. The events of that one evening three weeks ago flooded back to her with full force. She sat back down on the bed, hand clutching the phone against her breast. An inexplicable mixture of joy and horror assaulted her thoughts. I'm not ready. She sighed. I can't do this!

As if on cue her phone came to life, ringing loudly at her chest. She shook with a start.

"...Paul?"

"Hey, it's me!" His casual voice left her disoriented.

"Where— where are you?"

"I'm on a bus approaching Providence."

She felt numb. "When are you getting here?"

"Ah, probably in about fifteen minutes? I think we're getting off at— Fifty Exchange Terrace."

"Okay, stay right there when you get off and I'll come get you." Aiko's heart was beating wildly in her ribcage.

"It's okay, just tell me which way to go and we can meet half way," he assured her.

"Um... get onto Washington heading towards the water, and I'll come meet you."

"Alright, see you." He hung up.

*

They met over the bridge closer to the side her school was on. He had on dark blue jeans and a gray t-shirt, a small blue duffle bag slung low on one shoulder. He hurried towards her as soon as he got sight of her. They came within a foot of each other, yet at that moment couldn't decide if they should hug. They hugged anyway. Aiko inhaled his scent—it was clean and crisp, and deeply intoxicating. Carefully, they pulled apart.

"How've you been?" Paul breathed excitedly, hands dug deep into his back pockets.

"Fine." She managed a weak smile.

"That's not very convincing," he said, eyebrows arched. They headed in the direction of the school.

"Paul, does your family know you're here?" Aiko blurted out.

He almost groaned. "No. But I told them I was going away for a few days and that I'd be back."

"Paul—they're going to be worried sick about you. You really should at least call them and tell them you're here."

"I will, I will, don't worry."

"Really, Paul, it would make me feel a lot better."

"Fine," he complained, as he pulled out his phone and typed a short text. "There. I told my sister. Happy?"

"Thank you," Aiko muttered, shaking her head.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, tension creeping into his voice.

"I'm fine," she said. "Let's just get you to the dorm so I can go to class. I'll be late."

*

Paul set his bag down at the foot of Aiko's bed. "I mean, it's okay with you if I stayed here for a little while, right?"

"Sure, it's no problem. I just wanted to make sure your parents know where you are." Aiko darted about the room gathering sketches and prints and stuffing them into her backpack. "Do you know how long you'd be staying?"

He smiled wanly. "I don't know. I haven't thought that far ahead."

A small knot of worry settled in her chest. She stood to look at him. "Paul, we both know your parents are upset with you already for missing out on college."

His jaw tensed, silent for a long moment.

"Well, that's why I came here," he said quietly. "I figured I'd come and sort some things out."

"Alright, well," Aiko said. "If I leave for a couple hours for class, will you stay out of trouble while I'm gone?"

Paul produced a most seductive grin. "Jesus, I'm eighteen. I can take care of myself."

*

Two and a half hours later, Aiko pulled a half empty bottle of Jim Beam out of her freezer, then set her keys down on the counter. Having no tumblers, she removed a small juice glass from the dishwasher and filled it all the way up. She padded into her room with her glass of whiskey and backpack. Paul was perched at the edge of the bed, reading quietly in front of the muted light of the table lamp. His silhouette was unbearably arresting.

"Stay there," Aiko said. She set down the glass and pulled her manual camera out of her bag. She aimed, focused the lens, then committed the image to film. Satisfied, she retrieved the glass and made her way to the bed.

Aiko set the camera down on the nightstand, then the glass. Its moist bottom formed a wet seal with the surface of the table. She froze.

Paul shut the journal in his two large hands. He held it like a heavy stone between his knees.

A nauseating, deafening silence filled the space between them. Aiko's gut seized up as she gaped at him. His eyes were glued to his hands.

"Who is 'A'," he uttered weakly, his voice cracking ever so slightly. It was hardly a question but a cold demand to know.

Aiko shuddered at the sound of his voice, at what he was saying. Absently she brought up a trembling hand to cover her flushed face.

"He was this guy I met in Japan."

"Are you still talking to him?" Paul asked darkly.

"No." Aiko shook her head, almost violently. "I broke up with him when— when I found out he just wanted someone to bring him to the States."

He inhaled sharply, his eyes murky and illegible. Paul took the journal in one hand and rested it carefully next to him on the bed.

Though a voice screamed out in her, denouncing the sudden interrogation and the need the explain herself, Aiko exclaimed, "He is nothing to me!"

He didn't flinch. How can he understand, she thought hopelessly. How can I ever make him understand? She couldn't. She stood lamely in front of him, her hands clenched into small bitter fists, watching him sit motionlessly on her bed. Paul looked away, his face unreadable. He looked away for the longest time before swiftly turning to her again. Horrified, she watched uncountable emotions tremble and flicker through his dark features, the muscles and tendons in his body wound up tight like a bomb.

Aiko saw him leap up and throw his hand back, as if to strike her. She winced. For several moments time came to a standstill. She opened her eyes as his hands clenched around her shoulders to hurl her onto the bed. She landed on the cover and he was on her, briskly pinning her panic-stricken wrists above her hair. His eyes like hot black coals, Paul forced her hands into the bed several times, making it clear she was not to move them. She watched him peel off his t-shirt, now slightly damp with his sweat, and wring it into a thick, makeshift rope. As he straddled her he set about tying her hands together.

Paul's fingers trembled visibly as he held the shirt up to her wrists. Below him, Aiko's body trembled harder. Her eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Paul's lips pressed together in a pale, taut line. His chest heaved violently with strained breaths. Wordlessly he straightened up and pitched the coiled shirt to the floor.

"Look at me," he commanded, his voice surprisingly hushed. "Aiko, look at me." Reluctantly she blinked her eyes open, suddenly feeling at her most vulnerable.

Warm relief washed over her when Paul rested an elbow on either side of her shoulders, shrouding her body with his own. She studied his face, searching for some expression or scrutable word on his lips. Instead he leaned down and closed his mouth around the side of her neck, flattening his scalding tongue against her bare skin. Aiko gasped and twisted her face away. Her hands found his shoulders. Her blood pulsed beneath his tongue like a wide, feverish river.

"Paul..." Aiko breathed, the sound barely a whisper. Her fingers grasped his shoulder and the velvety base of his neck as he crushed her hips with his erection. Panting gently, his hand circled her neck, trailed between her breasts and slipped down to unbutton her jeans. With the zipper undone he released it from her waist, taking her panties with it as he tugged it down past her thighs. It silently joined the discarded shirt on the floor. Paul gathered her ankles and folded her knees against her chest. He pressed his palm against her sex, feeling its heat and its softness.

"Look at me," he said again. His eyebrows were tense with hunger. She did as he told, locking his gaze with her own as he dipped an index finger into her pussy. Aiko moaned. Her outer lips were dry but his finger came out thickly coated with her slippery juices. She clenched her teeth as he tested her again, this time with two fingers. He felt her muscles close tightly around them as she writhed beneath him.

"J-Just fuck me already," she groaned, her eyes quickly darkening with frustration. She found his speed intolerable. He yielded, sitting back on his haunches to unbutton his own pants. Impatient, Aiko reached out and jerked it open. She dove her hand behind the band of his boxers and unceremoniously produced his stiff cock. Her stare bore into his eyes as she stroked him, her hungry mouth agape. Paul sighed hoarsely at the contact and at her sudden boldness. Her hand was full of his cock as she coaxed a large, clear drop of precum out of the tip. With her thumb she rubbed it into the crown, spreading it all around the plump ridges.

Aiko flipped herself onto her knees, her back towards Paul. She bent over and eagerly guided the tip towards her ready entrance. It pushed up against her wet slit with just enough pressure to send shivers through her entire body. Her eyes were closed in a throe of ecstasy when Paul seized her waist and flipped her back to face him, this time lifting her onto his lap. He laid backwards, his hands still firmly clasping the flesh of her hips.

"Look at me," he firmly demanded, his eyes unwavering, "I want you to look at me while you fuck me."

Drawing in a breath through clenched teeth, Aiko grudgingly complied. She took hold of his cock and guided it again to her slick pussy. Eyes trained on his, she slowly sat down, feeling it slip into her narrow cavity. His thickness threatened to tear her. Aiko tried not to wince as she worked to accommodate his girth. Paul held his breath, sweat streaking down his face.

Without warning he swiftly wrenched her hips down against his own, viscously plunging into the depths of her pussy. She screamed.

"Fuck—" he gasped as he watched her face contort in a mixture of euphoria and pain. Aiko squirmed above him, the cheeks of her ass pressed firmly against the skin of his sac. She panted heavily, eyes only half open but still watching him. He felt the strong muscles of her canal clutch at him, stretched tight over the head of his cock.