Ichika Amasawa: One-shots, Snippets, and Drabbles, etc.

Call Me By Your Name

"I love you." 

It was a clear summer night when he said that. The word, the voice, the gaze; it was soft, crisp, and alluring. I shut my eyes, say the words, and I'm back there. From the direction of the ocean wind approaches whistling and booming; still night, it's still early. 

My heart danced at the elation. It occurred to me that if three words from him could make me so happy, then another could easily crush me. I ought to learn to beware of such little joys. 

We walked on the shore of silence. Months, seasons, years, a lifetime could go along with nothing but this; that was what my heart declared. The crashing waves engulfing the strips with barely any foam engulfed the land—and us—with hardly a thought. 

Hobbling on my feet on the bare sands, which pooled like puddles at my steps, I walked at a pace to an unseen dawn. We moved away, slowly, for it was very calm, to a place that was rather separate from others.

The breeze sailed above, flapping. Beneath the sentinel gaze of the Moon, I stood drowsed motionless. The waves furled, rippling, running over, and ceasing; alike to my fingers curled tightly behind me. There was no motion.

I stepped onto the strip of rocks assailed by the waves, grinding against them. The waves ran over it, rushing like children eagerly to play, usually. I turned, facing him; twirled, facing the rippling waters. The soles of my feet entered the cool, transparent surface. The ground beneath sinking unto itself softly at my weight. 

You will get wet, he says in his soft voice, but what does that matters here? Treading deeper into the waves, I bring out my foot out of the water, drenched and dripping, then swerve on the ocean surface, sprinkling dancing drops upon him.

A smile blossomed onto my face seeing his exasperated face as he removes the arm shielding him—and failing—thereafter soaked. He steps along with me into the shallow waters. Our feet brushes each other idyllically.

He takes off the clothes from his upper body, steps into the blue water before me; to my right as far as the eye could see, rising and falling, following the stars twinkling to some country untouched by man.

We play together in the ocean, going deeper and deeper slowly. The water climbs up,first reaching my ankle, then reaching my knees, and now it's circling at my hips. Tethered to the waters we danced, my hips caressing his without inhibition occasionally, flitting together like fishes trapped in water, his hands straying over my face, my hands roaming over his muscles with unabashed recklessness and squeezing them.

I let out an exhale, and stop together, floating with the ripples. To him I whisper, my words nearly drowned in the ocean of noise, "Hide from me, eh?" I swim closer to him, leaning in took hold of his hands into mine, then leaned into him as our lips brushed like a prelude to an intricate contact. 

My hands in his hair, his under my shirt; damp and drenched. Unfettered and unrestrained, we swam to a big rock resting with a chill draft ushered at times. Like breaking a spell I lifted my knee to him, closing the distance between us, inch by inch, faces and bodies almost touching. I wanted our lips to connect, tongues flailing in each other's mouths, leading to a mutual surrender. Wordlessly I mouth it to him. 

He said nothing and lifted my hand to his lips, and kissed it. I turn around in disappointment, our bodies and faces touching, but angles apart. Shaking my head and sighing, I curse him, my words being muffled.

My palm clammy with perspiration slid into his. "How mean, such trickery," I said, my breathless words hanging in the shadows round us.  A fluttering travels through my belly, hand pressed to my copious bosom with the salty scent of ocean water; really, he just can't stop himself. And then I turned back to gaze at his face.

"You are so mean," I said, complaining while showing a pouting face. He shakes his head with a sigh as if tired. 

His face covered by soaked, dropping hair was smooth and glistening under the moonlit sky. I brought some water in my hands and threw at him; it was cold but insufficiently, leaving behind an unslaked likeness of thirst. 

I offered a teasing smile and said nothing. He understood. In such moments, I liked having my mind read. He brought his lips to mine and smacked them together. There was no inhibition in the midst of the waters. Our lips connected, fluid and instantaneous. 

As we disconnected, I saw his furtive glances at my lips, lips I knew were painted a perfect red. To him I say, why stop now? I put my fingers to his lips, he pulled me close to his chiseled chest, and kissed the side of my face with fervor. I returned with a kiss softly like petals that would fall apart at the slightest touch. All to make him soar in his fervor, not because he lacked in zeal and neither due to a want of savage passion. I didn't need that. 

I didn't need proof. I didn't need words. Blindfolds over eyes, hands intertwined, thoughts eliminated. Here was the illuminating moon, the rough rock, the chill ocean wind, the fresh scent of his drying body. 

I sidled up to him, kissed him again. And again, hands racing passionately over his body, and his hands under my shirt. Take me, turn me inside out, molt me, and make me all with lust.

I say, do one thing for me, will you? "Call me by your name — Ayanokōji."

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Author's Note:

Thanks for reading! It's the end of the year, and my (likely) last chapter for next few months while I would be not writing due preparing for exams.
 
And Happy New Year in advance!

Words: 962
Published: December 31st, 2021