Beat the Heat

Beat the Heat Reveals!!!

solanum_d — Sun, 28 Sep 2008 13:07:44 GMT

Herein lies not only who wrote your fic for you, but also a complete list of links to all fics written. If you haven't read them yet, you should! Enjoy! It's been a lot of work, but a lot of fun as well. We may even do this again next year! XD

Lemon Cinnamon Raspberry Dream for llamachan by lumelle
Vacation Vexation for maja_li by polyurethane
Serendipity for decollement by lafuego
Old and New Games for vacivity by acantabloom
Some Things Were Never Meant to be Seen for wiccanlily by jupiter_star
Fast for Fear of Choking for gottis_chan by _pseudonym
Second Chances for lumelle by yes_rhade
A New Look for blackjesskat by kyaatoti
What a man can do, and what a man can't do for feuillu by kat8cha
Stumble Upon for _pseudonym by maja_li
Star-Crossed Lovers for jupiter_star by wiccanlily
Making It Count for senshixdoukeshi by pixxers
Três Semanas for solanum_d by crazy_marik
Water Lilies for acantabloom by plural_force
Passing Fascination for crazy_marik by solanum_d
Summer Time for kyaatoti by kasey_sanada
Sugar Sweet for kat8cha by llamachan
Getting What You Want for kasey_sanada by senshixdoukeshi
Popsicles and Pina Coladas for lafuego by decollement
Experiment for polyurethane by gottis_chan
Seeking Enlightenment for wolfe_tone by solanum_d
The Pact for plural_force by dawnrune
Overture to the Prelude of One Afternoon for decollement by wolfe_tone

A million and one thanks to our beautiful and wonderful pinch-hit authors: pixxers, dawnrune, and yes_rhade. You girls are lifesavers!

Thanks to all of our participants! We hope that you enjoyed the exchange. Look forward to another!

Cool off, Claire! And thank you, pinch-hitters!

senshixdoukeshi — Wed, 24 Sep 2008 21:53:34 GMT

Due to minor confusion in the assignments sent, Claire is the lucky recipient of two.

We'd love for the all of the authors who were fabulous enough to pinch-hit for us to see this fic as also being for them.

Recipient: decollement
Title: Overture to the Prelude of One Afternoon
Pairing/Characters: Marui/Kirihara
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Just playing with the characters; I don’t own them.
Notes: Thanks so much to R. for betaing for me even when you were pressed for time. I hope you enjoy, Claire!
Summary: An overture. As defined by dictionary.com: “(in music) a similar orchestral work intended for independent concert performance; an act, offer, or proposal that indicates readiness to undertake a course of action or open a relationship.”

Summer kind of sucked.

The weather was muggy, filling his lungs with disgustingly thick air as he sucked in breaths while playing tennis; plus, his schedule was boring as all hell: play video games until he was kicked out of the house to go play tennis, play tennis until he was kicked off the courts back to his house. Lather, rinse, repeat.

Kirihara really wasn’t sure how else the summer was supposed to waste by, anyway. There was no school, but most everybody had this or that to attend to, which drained the fun out of actually going anywhere to do something. Whatever tennis matches he could get he took up, even if it were with amateur losers on a street court.

Yesterday he got a hold of Yanagi, who was in between studying or reading or whatever the data master was doing to prepare for high school more, but today was with Marui-senpai.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” the redhead asked after their match, blowing a bubble with a fresh piece of gum.

It wasn’t like the older boy to ask him somewhere unexpectedly, and Kirihara narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Why?”

Marui flicked Kirihara on the forehead and rolled his eyes. “Jackal’s off in the jungles again, and I need someone to go with me to the beach.”

“Gee thanks, senpai,” he replied caustically, shoving his tennis racket into his bag for added effect. “I’m just the back-up friend.”

“Nope, see I already asked Niou and he was busy with some family thing,” Marui corrected unmercifully, lips twitching into a grin in what Kirihara could only assume was an unsuccessful attempt to soften the blow. “So that makes you the back-up to the back-up.”

Slinging his bag over his shoulder, Kirihara flicked off the volley tensai and started walking off in the direction of his house.

“’Kay cool! I’ll let you know when we’re leaving later!” Marui called out after him.

Kirihara bit down hard on his tongue. Marui-senpai was lucky he had a crush on him.

-

In the middle of Devil May Cry 4 for the third time, Kirihara jumped at the sound of his phone receiving a text message.

The time is at hand… babe-watching awaits you tomorrow…
7:15PM Fri, Apr 25
From : Tensai-senpai ;D

…When had Marui stolen his phone? Kirihara glared at the inputted name, editing it to change back to ‘Sugar Freak’. In the meantime, the phone signaled another text.

Don’t think you’re getting out of it. You’ll crush my fragile heart. :’(
7:18PM Fri, Apr 25
From : Sugar Freak

The only reason your heart’s fragile is ‘cause you eat too much cake
And don’t play around with my phone! D<
7:21 PM Fri, Apr 25
To : Sugar Freak

I thought you’d like it. You probably changed it to something uncreative like ‘Marui-senpai my hero’ or ‘Magnificent Marui’.
7:21 PM Fri, Apr 25
From : Sugar Freak

Oh yeah. I’ll be at your house at 1. We’re taking the train.
7:22 PM Fri, Apr 25
From : Sugar Freak

Kirihara frowned; Marui was too fast at texting.

Y U IGNORE ME LYKE DIS? D:
7:24 PM Fri, Apr 25
From : Sugar Freak

FINE I’M THERE
GO AWAY
7:25 PM Fri, Apr 25
To : Sugar Freak

<3 you :p
7:25 PM Fri, Apr 25
From : Sugar Freak

Tossing his phone on his bed, Kirihara ignored the stupid little flutter of hope in his chest and went back to playing the game. Text messaging with Marui was lame beyond all reason.

-

The sun was really freaking hot, Kirihara decided, shucking off his shirt quickly and tossing it onto the sand next to his shoes. He chanced a look over at Marui – who by this point was bare-chested and lounging on a bright red towel that pretty much clashed with his entire being, let alone his hair – and grinned at the cool vibe the tensai was projecting despite that.

…At least it wasn’t Sanada, he recalled, who owned a tiny black Speedo that was more frightening than anything Kirihara had ever experienced in his young life.

“What are you doing?” Marui asked, raising an eyebrow above the aviator sunglasses he sported. “Sit down.”

Shrugging, the second year flopped down onto his own towel and glinted at the bright light. Why hadn’t he thought of bringing sunglasses?

“Ha! See that girl over there?” The redhead pointed in the direction of the lifeguard stand. “She looks like she was ridden hard and put back wet.”

He liked the way Marui smiled – kind of a lot. Not that he’d ever say something embarrassing like that to the older boy anyway. Heat rose to his cheeks and neck when Marui finally looked at him to see what he was doing. Rolling his eyes, he finally answered, “Yeah, nice to know what kind of girl you go after, senpai. The only kind you could get.”

Marui made a noise of indignation, whacking the tennis ace on the back of the head. “Yeah right. My type is more…” he trailed off, searching for the right girl, “that one over in the water half-way. See her?”

“The one in the purple swimsuit?” Kirihara asked, raising a hand to shield his eyes from the sun. “She’s kind of flat.”

“But she’s cute. Boobs aren’t the only thing you should look for, Akaya,” he pointed out, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Heeeh, how about that girl, if you want a big rack?” Looking to where Marui was gesturing, he saw a girl – rather, woman – that had to be at least twice their age.

“Uh, sure senpai. Pretty hot.”

The volley specialist ‘tsked’ and shook his head. “No fun at all. Live a little.”

Living, according to Kirihara anyway, would have to take a lot more than one or two attractive girls to be worth watching Marui scope out some chick’s bikini.

-

Somehow, for whatever reason Marui thought was legitimate, they were going to build a sand castle. Not just any sand castle – heck no. Marui’s voice echoed in his brain like a foghorn.

“—and it’ll be a Super Ultra-Deluxe Tensai Girl Attracting Drip Castle, plus kouhai.”

It was just them for once, the air was clear and crisp from the salty waves and there was so much to actually do at the beach, but all Marui wanted to do was look at girls and do weird things. The day couldn’t have really happened any other way, Kirihara figured.

“I really don’t feel like “attracting” girls or whatever, senpai,” he deadpanned, nonetheless getting on his knees to help Marui start the thing. Going through at least twenty girls and giving a lukewarm opinion of them all made Marui roll his eyes, but really… Kirihara couldn’t help but think that the guy he was with was better looking. Building a sand castle would have been fun, if it weren’t for the reason the older boy wanted.

“Don’t be a sore loser,” Marui admonished. Kirihara watched for a moment - unsure of what Marui meant exactly - how the other tennis player scooped up the wet sand, letting it fall from his fingers to form a peak.

Copying the motion, the second year started a section of the castle on his own. “What d’you mean?” he asked eventually.

Marui gave Kirihara a Look, and rubbed his sand-plastered hand against Kirihara’s curls. “Girls look at me more than you, duh.”

Kirihara shook his head free of the sand and glared self-righteously at the redhead. “I don’t want to do this anymore, I said!”

“C’mooon, Akaya, don’t you like that ugly chick with the ruffles? She kind of looks like she’s--”

“You’re not getting it!” he burst out. Some fucking tensai he was. “I don’t want to look at those girls because I just wanted to be with you!”

“So you’ve fallen for my charms… inevitable isn’t it--”

“Dumbass! I’m serious!”

The volley specialist stilled, the teasing smile wilting off of his face. “…You really didn’t just call me a dumbass.” At the curly-headed boy’s scowl, Marui scratched his cheek and looked at the half-assed sand castle to avoid Kirihara’s expectant gaze. “But if you’re saying you like me, date-wise… me too.”

The anger and frustration he felt throughout, what seemed like, the longest day of his life melted away gradually as the younger of the two registered what Marui said. His mouth dropped open slightly and he felt his heart drop into his stomach.

“Don’t gawk,” Marui commanded, face flushing as he looked back to their castle and made another castle peak. “’Course you’d want to date me, but… you’re not so bad yourself, okay?”

Kirihara could only smirk and cackle when the Castle d’Tensai was destroyed by an oncoming wave.

-
46
The sunset dripped violets, reds, and oranges as a backdrop of the ocean, but Kirihara could hardly appreciate the scene with Marui’s hand clasped around his as they sat close together on their towels. His own hand was kind of gritty with sand, but as long as Marui-senpai didn’t care then neither did he.

The beach was emptying out slowly, and Kirihara was sure his shoulders were sunburned from the lack of sunscreen; however… there was still one person that caught his eye further down the beach.

“You better be the one taking me on the date next time,” Marui stated. “The arcade is fine, or a good food place.”

Distracted from the other person for a moment, Kirihara whipped his head around to stare at Marui. “This was a date?”

Marui only rolled his eyes in response.

“Hey, Marui-senpai…” the second year ace started asking, “did you like that girl with the no-chest ‘cause she looked like a guy? And kinda like me?”

The comment earned Kirihara another smack to the back of the head, but he was pretty sure the loss of those brain cells were worth the look on Marui’s face.

Cool off, Peophin!

solanum_d — Tue, 23 Sep 2008 18:26:24 GMT

Title: The Pact
Recipient: plural_force
Pairings: hinted Atobe/Tezuka, Atobe/Yukimura, Sanada/Yukimura.
Rating: T
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: Konomi Takeshi’s.
Sum: Apparently the secret to Seigaku’s success lies in mayhem on the beach, so Hyotei decides to go on a little beach adventure of their own, and invites Rikkaidai along as well.

---

“… and apparently, Captain, Seigaku uses morale-boosting activities such as nature walks and beach volleyball, which I believe may be the, ah, secret to their success,” said Morino, a Hyotei 1st year that tried to earn awesome points amongst his peers by directly associating with Atobe. This wasn’t an uncommon attempt at popularity in Hyotei Gakuen in the least, and where Atobe normally didn’t bother with the likes of him, he was interesting. Morino insisted he be given the opportunity to scout the rival schools, especially Seigaku, something which the Hyotei Regulars would normally do themselves; however, they were far too busy preparing for the Nationals to be doing such a thing, so a spy it was. Morino was renowned for taking excellent notes in class, something Sakaki-sensei could vouch for, so somehow it seemed worth Atobe’s time.

“Very well, runt. We’ll see if this is worth my time,” said Atobe, grabbing the notes from Morino as he dismissed the kid. The knowledge scratched onto those sheets was all so trivial, really. Atobe himself felt no reason to bother with such nonsense. Sure, Seigaku was getting stronger by the day, but so was Hyotei. The fact that they were invited to the Nationals despite their last run-in with Seigaku bespoke their power, and damn if they were going to lose again. The Regulars thought using Morino to spy on Seigaku was a good idea, and if they thought so then it was done. If by some miniscule chance they were correct, Atobe would not be made a fool of, but somehow he doubted that they were.

Atobe headed outside, flipping through the notes in hand. Figures, the runt would take the most notes on Seigaku’s brat, Echizen. That kid was a legend and hero among 1st years, and with good reason. Atobe looked forward to squashing that little pest when the time came. He had it coming. Also, the notes on Tezuka, he noticed, were quite insufficient. There was hardly a thing Atobe didn’t already know about Tezuka at this point, having been utterly fascinated by him since their last match. It was the most brilliant match Atobe had ever been in, totally one for the books. Tezuka was easy on the eyes, too, but that was neither here, nor there.

As for the rest of Seigaku, not a one of them struck his fancy. They could be left to the rest of his team, and that would be that. Oshitari would have to have a look at these notes as well, and have a hand in deciding where they went from there. A foray into beach activities for a day may be interesting, or a waste of time. They were, after all, entering a tennis tournament. Tennis should be what they lived and breathed until the end of the Nationals if you asked him, but he supposed he could make a democracy of it just this once. It depended on what Oshitari thought.

He approached the courts from the school with a look of indifference. The morale in Hyotei seemed as high as it could be, as his Regulars and other teammates put on a terrific display of vigor. One hundred tennis rackets were going all at once. Balls were being gathered by half of the 1st years, while the other half was a chorus of cheers Atobe himself had written. It was simply superb.

Yet in the entire splendor, the shouting, the swinging, and the “ploks” of balls from each court, all of that came to a halt when Atobe snapped his fingers.

“Oshitari, Kabaji, I need to see you immediately,” said Atobe, standing before the entire tennis club as regal as ever. Naturally he was an awe-inducing leader of great command, and even better looks; however, the matter at hand was not about two hundred young men gawking over his gorgeous face, but about tennis. “As you were, everyone. I’ll not be pleased if I have to report any slackers to the coach.”

“Yes, Captain!” the entire club responded, which may have amazed anyone else, but Atobe was used to it. That was the mark of a perfect leader, and he wouldn’t let anybody forget it.

Soon after, Kabaji appeared before him, responding with the automated “Yes” that Atobe loved to hear. There was nothing in the world quite like a yes-boy, especially a yes-boy who also happened to be his friend. Yes, even great leaders have great friends. An insincere “yes” was as useless as a victory in tennis against a dead man.

Taking his sweet time, Oshitari strolled up to the bleachers after Kabaji, drenched in sweat while his hair stuck out in even odder angles than usual. He looked like an untamed animal, much like Tezuka had over the net way back when. Atobe had a special place in his heart for such splendor, not that he’d tell anyone other than Kabaji that. A great leader also kept great secrets, granted they were none of anyone else’s business.

“So did that Morino brat have any useful observations for us?” asked Oshitari, knowing exactly what this was all about. Figures he could read Atobe like a book at this point. He’d only been a Regular forever now, and in such a time he had become almost a second Kabaji to him. Though the difference was that the two of them thought far too differently, where he and Kabaji thought alike. If Atobe were a defensive fool he’d have had Oshitari gone a long time ago for butting in as he often did. His opinion sometimes proved useful, though.

“Make of this what you will. I have no use for it,” said Atobe, completely confident in his ability to crush Echizen when the time came. The only predictable thing about that kid was that he was unpredictable, period. Any note on him now would distract him from his game later. Atobe would do things his own way. Oshitari could figure out what to do about the bunch in Seigaku Atobe couldn’t be bothered with. The genius could work up the strategy, and Atobe and Kabaji would enforce it. When all was said and done, they’d win it for sure.

“Hmm,” said Oshitari. He thumbed through the chicken scratches one by one, nodding, humming, and “I see”-ing a few times before he could come to any useful conclusions.

“How very trivial this all is,” he said finally, and if Atobe weren’t so refined his jaw would be on the ground. He and Oshitari agreed on something? Surely that Morino kid had duped him, and now he was out a precious ten minutes of his life. How could he have let that happen? “All Morino-kun had to say is our spirit is weaker than Seigaku’s.”

“Absurd! Our spirit is excellent,” said Atobe, looking down at his team as sure as he had ever been about anything in his life. So he thought, at least. He observed the work, harmonious as it was, it did seem robotic. Was this tennis, or was it the Army? Everyone was soaked in their own sweat as the sun beat down upon them, and every expression of one of total concentration. No one was smiling. Without joy was insincere action. At this rate their desire to win would become their desire to get this over with. Atobe, rare an occurrence as it was, had miscalculated. Or had he? There was only one way to find out. “Right, Kabaji?”

“... No,” said Kabaji, wiping sweat from his brow. There were precious few times Kabaji ever said no. One was when Atobe asked him if he thought Tezuka was attracted to him; another was when Atobe asked if he should get a new haircut. Kabaji never said a thing to spare his feelings. In fact, Kabaji didn’t say much at all. This was why his opinion meant so much to Atobe.

And, too, Oshitari’s say was also valuable. He now had Atobe’s attention. “If Kabaji says no then I’m willing to believe it. What do you propose we do, Oshitari?”

“Well,” said Oshitari, thumbing through the notes again. “There were several mentions of beach volleyball. After Rokkaku’s defeat the two teams took a beach trip together. Seigaku’s spirit increased from there.

“They seem to get their energy from helping others out, and having fun.”

“I see,” said Atobe, not having to put much thought into it. At first it may have made little sense to interrupt the team at work, but that was just it. Tennis was play, it wasn’t work. As long as Atobe governed the asphalt of this turf, the tennis would be no less than perfect. If a silly trip to one of his private beaches boosted their morale, then so be it.

He snapped his fingers, and once again all activity ceased.

“Everyone, to the showers. Regulars, report to room 13A in half an hour. Don’t be late. Dismissed!”

---

“What do you suppose the captain wants to discuss with us, Shishido-san?” said Ohtori, awaiting the arrival of Atobe in room 13A as directed. The Regulars were far from refreshed after the three minute lukewarm showers they had to fight tooth and nail to get to. The sun was absolutely disgusting, and the humidity made it even worse. Despite that, they were all gathered and waiting none too patiently. It was just about dinner time, too, and various stomachs grumbled about. Waiting made it even worse.

“Who knows, but god help him if he makes us put on more leg weights,” said Shishido, usually not one to grumble about working himself to the limit, but damn. If he did so it was usually on his own terms, and/or with Ohtori and no one else around. He hated anyone other than Ohtori seeing him struggle. It was lame, not to mention embarrassing. He needed to be on top of his game constantly at this school, and he would win no matter what, harsh bone-grinding training or otherwise.

“I hear that,” said Gakuto, sitting cross-legged and hunched over on one of the desks. “The weather’s piss-hot all the time, and this stupid training schedule and meal plan he’s got me on? Ugh! Fuck Atobe, I want a goddamn cheeseburger!”

“Don’t talk about food,” said Hiyoshi, ready to smack a bitch and kill a dude after a day in that sun. If only he could kill the sun with tennis, then life would be perfect, and he, too, would have a goddamn cheeseburger. Unfortunately, life didn’t work that way, so he just wallowed in misery instead. All he could do is overcome. One fighting to be the future captain of this school’s tennis team shouldn’t be defeated by the weather.

“The heat is pretty bad. I hate to say it, but I would have rather been doing anything than playing tennis today,” said Ohtori, wiping remnants of sweat and locker room water from his brow. “No offense, Shishido-san.”

“It’s all right, Choutaroh. I felt the same way. I fuckin’ hate this.” Shishido’s head sunk down to the cool desk top. His body was beginning to register the air conditioning in the room, and it sent chills up his spine, where the rest of him was throbbing. It didn’t help that his stomach was growling, he stunk like a hundred armpits festering in a landfill, and Choutaroh was looking at him. Looking cute, in only the way that he could, and all that did was make him feel even hotter. What was he going to do, though? Tell Choutaroh not to look at him?

Mukahi broke him from his stupor with stupidity, but that was OK. As long as it was something. “I say we pull a prank on the captain when he walks in!”

“We? How about you? I don’t feel like doing shit,” said Shishido, pulling his cap down over his eyes. Perhaps he wouldn’t be as hot if his face was mostly hidden by his hat. That was, until Choutaroh started rubbing circles around his shoulder blade. Damn, did this day need to end, and now!

“Mukahi-senpai, that’s not a good idea. What if he gets really angry?” said Ohtori, dreading the kinds of things Atobe may have in store for the lot of them if wronged in any way. It was too late, though. Once Mukahi had his mind set on something, he would achieve it no matter what. That would certainly explain how he could bend at totally unreal angles while playing tennis and, well. Who hasn’t wanted to see the captain flustered at one time or another? It would be pretty funny, but at what price?

“Jiroh, Jiroh, wakey-wakey you damn slacker,” said Mukahi, shaking Jiroh’s head with his foot. This guy was actually physically practicing against ten 3rd years at once, because it took that many combined to be anywhere near as good as Atobe; however, the heat got to Jiroh in the worst way, and Mukahi suspected Kabaji would have to lug him home on his shoulder again. Oh well, if Mukahi could get him to stay awake just long enough to do what he had in mind.

“Huh… uhhhn,” said Jiroh, barely able to crack an eye halfway open. He felt like his body weighed a million pounds, and he was sticky, and quivering everywhere from the high-powered air conditioner. This was the kind of state he felt like sleeping the best, but Mukahi wanted something. What did he want? When could he go bac-oh, too late. “ZzzZzz.”

“Oh no you don’t! Wake up, this is important! The captain… he needs you.”

“What what?! The captain wants to play a game with me?! I can play against the captain finally?! AWESOME!!” said Jiroh, now bouncing in his seat. There wasn’t a soul in Hyotei who excited him more than Atobe himself. “When do we start? Where is he?”

“No, Jiroh, it’s terrible,” said Mukahi, trying hard not to laugh through his little gimmick. “You see, Atobe’s favorite dog, ahhh, Gabocha, was hit by a car today. Died instantly. Atobe is very heartbroken and needs a hug.”

Jiroh looked stricken to the point of tears, and more alert than ever. Frankly, Mukahi never knew Jiroh’s eyes could open so wide. “How sad. Leave it to me! I’ll do everything I can to cheer Atobe-san up, promise, promise.”

“Good,” said Mukahi, happy to see his plan successfully in motion.

“That’s bad Karma, you know,” said Hiyoshi, not very happy with this prank. Frankly he thought dumping lime green paint on Atobe’s head would have been more amusing, or something. Not something that was so, well, lame. Oh well, maybe the look on Atobe’s face would be funny.

“What are you talking about? Karma’s got nothin’ to do with this,” said Mukahi, rolling his eyes at his teammate. Who believed in that shit, seriously? And would Atobe hurry up and get here before Jiroh passed out?

As if the gods handed Mukahi everything he ever wanted at that very moment on a silver platter, Atobe walked through the door. He was all splendor, and brilliance, and awesomeness in his own perfect world one minute, and tackled to the floor by a crying Jiroh the next. Atobe had never looked more like he was going to piss himself when he went down, and Jiroh seemed to be crushing him.

“Oh, oh Atobe-san, I’m so, so sorry abo-abo… oh… uh,” said Jiroh, his juice running out just in time for Mukahi to be in the clear. Atobe was very confused and pretty irritated as well, whilst trying hard to rebuild his cool. He concentrated so hard on getting it together that he didn’t notice Mukahi recording the whole thing on his cell phone.

Unfortunately, though, Kabaji had noticed, and wasted no time in confiscating the phone. Mukahi fought for it in vain, knowing damn well that big lug could crush his fucking arm if he squeezed hard enough. Oh well, the scene would remain immortal in his mind. The fall of Atobe, what a great memory.

“Kabaji,” said Atobe, still very much on the ground with a stubborn Jiroh attached and sleeping on him. Whatever that was all about, it certainly was strange, and Atobe wouldn’t stand for anymore strange happenings. “Get Jiroh off of me, bring him home, and stay with him for the night. I want him awake enough to pack at the crack of dawn, understand?”

“Yes,” said Kabaji, pocketing Mukahi’s phone. He’d have any offending videos and photos of Atobe erased from it before the night’s end, and then he’d return it. After all, he was no thief. He just did what he could to help Atobe keep his good name.

Kabaji peeled Jiroh slowly off of the captain and placed him on his shoulder. This was actually becoming a normal thing. On nights before important events, Kabaji would carry Jiroh home and stay with him, in order to ensure his teammate was awake enough to make it to tennis. The Akutagawa family had become quite accustomed to Kabaji’s presence, to the point where they’d prepare some of his favorite meals for dinner, and had a spare futon in the closet just for him. After all, due to Jiroh’s… interesting little desire to sleep life away, he didn’t have too many friends.

“Yes, well,” said Atobe, being helped off the floor by Oshitari who, too, was trying hard not snicker over that little incident. He’d overlook whatever came over Jiroh at the moment, because he, too, was tired, and hungry, and wanted to go home and play with his dogs for awhile. Not that he’d let another ounce of disgrace be drawn on his flawless face. This would have to be brief. “Everyone, tennis for tomorrow is cancelled. I’ve told the rest of the team as much.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” said Ohtori, trying hard to sound disappointed, but truth be told it was wonderful news. The weather was supposed to be even hotter tomorrow. Maybe there was a severe heat advisory in effect? Somehow he didn’t think that would stop Atobe. He’d find a way to fit two hundred people at the private indoor courts at his house, because he’d done that before on rainy days. For tennis itself to be cancelled really was a problem. Maybe his dog really did die.

“What’s the catch, Atobe?” said Shishido, refusing to get remotely excited about shit until he knew just what was going on. He was more than prepared to join Mukahi for a burger if it was really a real day off, but somehow he doubted that.

“My, you don’t beat around the bush, do you, Shishido?” said Oshitari, grinning that stupid grin that screamed “I know something you don’t know”. Shishido was just waiting for the day he had a genuine excuse to punch that guy in the face, because he was constantly tempted to.

“Maybe you all won’t sound so ungrateful once I tell you we’re going to the beach tomorrow,” said Atobe, holding out his arms for praise that he didn’t get. This was all very ridiculous, but as an excellent captain he would not force unwarranted praise from his teammates. He would earn it, and they would be happy no matter what he had to do. He cleared his throat and tried harder. “We’ll leave for one of my private beaches from the school at 8AM sharp, so be there.”

“Is this some kind of new training, or something, Atobe?” said Mukahi, narrowly avoiding a whiny tone. “Because if it is I’d rather just swing a racket in the hot, fucking sun.”

“Don’t ruin it, you idiot!” said Shishido, striking the desk with his fists.

“Calm yourselves, everyone. Atobe’s generous intention is to get us to relax and have fun for a day. No training required,” said Oshitari, in a successful attempt at keeping an ugly fight from breaking out among the Regulars. Indeed, each expression in the room softened in a matter of moments, and though Atobe refused to show it he was grateful for Oshitari’s back-up on this. The Regulars looked nothing short of exhausted and pissed, all because Atobe did his job as team captain and kept them in motion. He would give them this chance to get it together, for their sake, and they would appreciate it, if it was the last thing he ever did.

“Indeed, and you’ll have to forgive me for being late arriving here. I just spoke with Rikkaidai Fuzoku’s captain Yukimura Seiichi over the phone. The Rikkaidai Regulars will be joining us tomorrow,” said Atobe, all too proud of himself. That captain was a difficult nut to crack, and it was especially hard to reveal his intentions without revealing the weakness in his own team. Eventually, though, he had Yukimura under his belt, and it was smooth sailing from there. Besides, Atobe and Sanada had quite a score to settle. Nothing like defeating his not-quite-Tezuka-class rival at a game of volley ball, or something.

“Rikkaidai?” said Choutaroh, not quite sure if he should like that idea. They were supposed to be Hyotei’s ultimate be-all-end-all rivals until Seigaku reared its incredible head. From there, Rikkaidai seemed like a far off dream, even though Seigaku defeated them at the Kanto tournament. With Yukimura back in business, Rikkaidai became a very real threat to tennis teams all over once again. Why give them an opportunity to get under Hyotei’s skin?

“Oh man,” said Mukahi, slapping his knee and laughing. “Marui-kun is doomed when Jiroh finds out about this.”

“Then it’s settled,” said Atobe, dismissing his Regulars as he contemplated how tomorrow’s little trip was going to go. The things he did for his team, what’s more, for his rival team. After all, he had always counted on Rikkaidai Fukoku being Hyotei’s biggest rival team to the bitter end, so he’d have a hand in kicking both of their games up if it was the last thing he did. Oh, and he looked forward to crushing Sanada at something in front of his precious Seiichi, but that was neither here nor there. Tomorrow was going to be fun.

---

When morning fell the sun was perfect. The weather was perfect, the sky was perfect, and Atobe’s hair, teeth, and nails were perfect, so it was a perfect sign that this day would be no less than perfect, and Atobe would have it no other way.
His staff had been up since 4AM working on this beach trip, packing all the foods, clothes, beach gear, and every brand of sun block under the sun to ensure that not only he had flawless skin, but that the rest of his team had as well. Having a team tired and sunburned just before the Nationals simply wouldn’t do. They would shine with Atobe and nothing less.

The bus Atobe had arranged stopped in front of the school a half hour early, giving Atobe just enough time to get caught up on his book. It was certainly awhile since he found time to read for pleasure, so he took it all in slowly as though being reunited with an old friend. As he was reading, the first Regulars to arrive twenty minutes early were Kabaji and Jiroh, which was quite fortunate since they were the quiet ones, and Atobe was just getting to the good part. As he was reading more rapidly through the text, Hiyoshi arrived. He may have said something along the lines of “good morning” but it didn’t quite register. After some time the time to leave was approaching. Shishido and Ohtori arrived together, chatting idly as they walked onto the bus, and they sat next to one another. Why, the bus was big enough to fit their Regulars and Rikkaidai’s one to a seat with a few seats to spare. Maybe they didn’t know? Perhaps they didn’t care. Most interesting.

Oshitari then came, informing Atobe that Mukahi may be a few minutes late, but with good reason. Well, whatever this “reason” was, Atobe was gracious enough to give it ten minutes before they took off. He thought this may happen, so he arranged for Rikkaidai to meet at their school a little later than it would have taken for the bus. Very well, back to his book.

Eight of those ten minutes had gone when Mukahi finally arrived. He looked quite distressed, which wasn’t what one who was about to go to the beach and have the time of his life should look like.

“What’s with you?” said Atobe, more curious about the reason for Mukahi’s tardiness than before.

“My parakeet died this morning,” said Mukahi, in a raw voice that suggested he had been crying earlier. Atobe nodded and apologized for his loss. After all, even if he was rich, and powerful, and practically the best thing that’s ever happened to Hyotei Gakuen, he could still sympathize for animals. Why, if it had been one of his dogs he’d have been devastated. The Atobe Mansion hade a graveyard for pets passed in the third courtyard, per his demand. There was no soil Chestnut deserved to be buried in more. Poor, poor Chestnut.

“What did I tell you about karma?” said Hiyoshi, which just about set Mukahi into a rain of fists had Oshitari not held him back. Whatever that was all about, it needed to stop before the lot of them headed out to Rikkaidai. They couldn’t see Atobe’s team as any less than perfect on this perfect vacation day. With that in mind, Atobe gave the order to the driver to head out. They had a beach to crash.

---

The bus ride to the beach with Rikkaidai was pleasant enough. Sanada had a bit of an attitude (as to be expected), and he was squabbling with Kirihara for whatever reason Atobe didn’t care to know. Yukimura, on the other hand, seemed to glow in contentment and good health, which was excellent considering the state he was in a few months prior. Atobe knew him and Sanada a few years past strictly as rivals, but now they seemed far more like old friends. Old friends Hyotei would soon exceed in terms of awesome of course, but nevertheless he had an unrivaled amount of respect for Rikkaidai Fuzoku. It was a great tennis team, enough said, though Sanada could certainly stand to lighten up, and Yukimura needed a hair cut. The longer it got, the more he looked like a woman.

In any case, the quiet bus ride had suddenly become rowdy. Kirihara apparently was in the mood to get on everyone’s bad side, including Atobe’s; however, this was Atobe’s perfect day and nothing was going to mess it up in the slightest. When the second year leaned over the back of the chair, telling him how he could take on the whole of Hyotei by himself at tennis, Atobe told him he’d hold him to that, and he’d better not disappoint. There was a price to pay if Atobe was disappointed in any way, which was generally why nobody bothered him with their stupidities. Kirihara minded himself in front of Atobe since. It also helped that Sanada cracked his fist in the mischievous boy’s direction.

All in all, though, they made it to the beach relatively unbruised, save for maybe Marui. Jiroh’s eyes cracked open five minutes before their arrival, and when he saw Kuwahara Jackal sitting in the seat across from him his brow quirked. Where there was a Jackal, surely there was a Marui nearby. Then a shot of pink hair bolted from behind the seat, as he had something to say to his partner. Jiroh’s eyes welled with excitement, seeing has he had never, ever been so close to his idol.

Marui felt the weight of being stared at, looked toward Jiroh, and everything went downhill from there. Everyone on the bus kinda preferred to keep what happened from there blocked from their minds. Needless to say, though, Marui was more than prepared to avoid the hell out of Jiroh for the rest of the day.

Unless Jiroh brought him cake and he could use his hyper psychotic fanboy as a slave, then things would be different. He’d have to keep that in mind.

The trickster and his doubles partner were behaving themselves relatively well, though that probably wouldn’t last. The person Atobe enjoyed speaking to most was Yanagi, for he had the same taste in classical literature as Atobe, which was a pleasure to know. He thought he could go on forever listing his favorite authors, but then the bus arrived in front of the beach. This conversation could resume another time.

Atobe called up his servants. It was show time!

---

When the two tennis teams arrived at the little private resort, everyone tried and failed not to look amazed at the splendor of it all. Closer to the cabin there was a grill going with a variety of food that even impressed Atobe. There was bound to be something there that appealed to everyone. Clearly Marui approved, because the first place he headed for was the table, desserts first. Jackal had a bit of fuzz growing in on the top of his head, so he headed off somewhere to go fix it. Niou and Yagyuu had already disappeared somewhere, but if they thought Atobe’s attendants didn’t have their close eyes on him then they had another thing coming. The rest of Rikkaidai and all of his own team stuck by him until they reached the shore, where there were volleyball nets, boogey boards, and a nice yacht, if a little small. It would at least have a pool on board, once the guys got sick of the sea water.

Atobe quite enjoyed the sea, though. What he enjoyed more than the sea itself, though, was resting by the sea. While the rest of his guys set up teams for volley ball, Atobe went to his chair and umbrella, which was already set up for him. He snapped his fingers toward one of his attendants for a drink and took a seat. While he sipped his peach smoothie, two other attendants of his got to work on applying his sun tan lotion. He hadn’t failed to mention to his team the importance of keeping their skin flawless and burn free, so when he snapped his fingers at the Hyotei Regulars and pointed toward the bin of sun screen, they knew what to do. He wouldn’t tolerate any disrespect today, so it was good that they were so understanding.

The cool breeze and the hot sun on Atobe’s sun were simply marvelous, so much so he regretted not thinking to do this sooner. He could see it in the eyes of his team already. Once half the boys were at the volley ball nets, and the other half were in the water, they seemed to be enjoying themselves quite thoroughly. Even Mukahi managed to cheer up as he Moon Salute spiked a ball right past Kirihara, enraging the competitive 2nd year. Good to see some of that competitive spirit back.

“Is this seat taken?” said Yukimura, patting the towel space next to Atobe’s chair.

“The pleasure is all mine,” said Atobe. After all, that’s what that extra strip of towel was for. Normally Kabaji occupied that space, but he seemed to be discussing astrophysics with Yanagi close by. Simply superb Yanagi was. Atobe would surely have to invite him to dinner sometime.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for the laid back type, Atobe,” said Yukimura, clearly not buying that this was out of the kindness of Atobe’s heart. Certainly this wasn’t something Atobe would have thought of on his own, but who was Atobe to reject such a splendid idea when it presented itself. Why, he felt more relaxed already, even with one of his biggest rivals sitting two feet away from him like an old friend.

“I’m a fair captain who rewards his team for good behavior,” said Atobe, taking another sip of his drink. “You should try one of these, they’re wonderful.”

“Perhaps later.” The breeze picked up Yukimura’s hair, and with him so close Atobe knew that this guy was a force to be reckoned with. He had quite a few scars marring what could have been perfectly flawless skin. The ones from his surgery were a given, but those lining his upper back and down his forearm were rather disturbing. Just how much work had he invested into becoming the legend that he is now? Atobe would take great care in getting to know this guy, because he truly struck him as someone important. Perhaps even more important than Tezuka. He still needed a haircut, though.
“So,” said Yukimura. “Why reward my team, as well? Think you’ll dig up any interesting secrets?”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, dear Seiichi.”

Yukimura laughed, and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear. Surely he couldn’t be more feminine-looking if he tried, but it was brilliant nonetheless. Atobe, too, knew first hand that beauty was a powerful thing. It was captivating, as well as deceptive. “Don’t let Genichirou hear you calling me that.”

“Ahn, so that’s his weakness, huh?” said Atobe, trying and failing to make the other captain blush. Yukimura was as resilient as a steel wall, and last he checked words didn’t tear steel down. Atobe would have to do better than that.

“Well, I’m in the mood for some swimming. I’ll take as much out of this day as you will, dear Keigo.” He stood and stretched out his muscles, giving Atobe a fabulous view of more scars past. That was a declaration of war if Atobe had ever seen one, and he’d be happy to comply.

“Please do. I want your team at their best when we face one another at the Nationals,” said Atobe, extending his hand to Yukimura. The two of them shook on it, and their pact was set.

E N D

Cool Off, Jen!

senshixdoukeshi — Mon, 22 Sep 2008 17:30:35 GMT

First, I apologize for the minor posting debacle from yesterday. It was a mispost.

Recipient: wolfe_tone
Title: Seeking Enlightenment
Pairing/Characters: Jackal Kuwahara/Marui Bunta; mentions of and appearances by the other Rikkai regulars
Rating/Warnings: R; mildly graphic m/m, voyeurism?, profanity, future timeline
Notes: Many thanks to my beta who is my fanfiction heart and soul. There's a great wiki on zen buddhism if you need it, though any references in this fic are largely irreverent. wolfe_tone, I really hope that you enjoy this fic.

Seeking Enlightenment

Training camp was not the way Marui Bunta dreamed of spending his summer vacation. Beach trips. Video games. Sleeping late. Eating too much ice cream and washing it down with too much soda. That was a vacation. Ideally, Sanada only figured into his vacation plans for the three days of mandatory practice each week of their summer break.

The bus hit another section of unsteady road, jostling Marui to knock his head against the window again. He gritted his teeth, cursed under his breath, and prayed for them to arrive at the lodgings soon. They were heading vaguely east - his genius didn't necessarily extend to geography and directions, so he didn't know exactly where they were or where they were going. The meager airflow provided by the windows - only half of which would lower at all - did nothing to alleviate the heavy summer humidity. The backs of Marui's thighs felt glued to the cheap vinyl bus seating with sweat. Not even his pack of emergency road snacks did anything to lift his mood... particularly because he'd eaten almost all of it. Kirihara had started the trip out chattering like the little monkey that he was, deteriorated into complaining, and now his whining was a constant counterpoint to the frequent applications of the air-brakes. Niou and Yagyuu weren't even sitting together. Niou had fallen asleep shortly after failing to convince Kirihara that they were driving to mainland Asia. Yagyuu was doing his summer homework, which made Marui roll his eyes because nobody - not even geniuses - did their homework until the weekend before it was due. Somewhere along the ride, Yanagi had lost reception for his laptop and resorted to his old notebook methods. Marui thought he was probably revising his planned training regimen for the trip. Sanada sat at the front of the bus, unwavering and silent. He'd decided on the training camp at the last minute. Yukimura wasn't with them. It had been three years since his surgery, and he seemed fully recovered, but the doctors kept a close eye on him. He'd be at the hospital for the week undergoing a variety of medical tests and physical examinations. Sanada's response to Yukimura's hospitalization had been the spontaneous training camp adventure. Marui understood: he was worried. They all were. Yukimura would always be their captain, and he seemed fine. The doctors' constant supervision always made them nervous, though. Sanada mellowed a little when Yukimura was there to run the show, but on this bus ride all Marui saw was the stern, set features of Sanada from their senior year of junior high - the Sanada that had to win it all for Yukimura. It was a side of Sanada that set Marui's nerves on end. He'd rather hope for the best and then kick back and take it easy while fate worked her way.

His hair lifted off of the back of his neck, and he turned to look at the culprit sitting next to him. Jackal let the hair fall through his fingers, and it stuck in patches to his skin. Marui held in a grimace. "You're sweaty," the deep timbre of Jackal's voice barely carried over the rumble of the bus' engine, the hiss of the air-brakes, and Kirihara's whining.

"Duh. Aren't you?"

"A little, yeah," Jackal shrugged, and Marui remembered that he was more or less from a rain forest. Clearly, Jackal would not sympathize.

"This whole trip is hair-brained." The heat, the long, bumpy car-ride, and his partner's latest less-than-complimentary comment were making him feel a little less than diplomatic.

"Give Sanada a break. He's trying to make something productive of this week..."

"No. He's trying to fill up the hours with strenuous activity that will keep him from thinking too hard and make him tired enough that he'll just fall dead asleep at night."

"That too."

Jackal smiled and Marui had to admit that in a pathetic way, it was kind of cute how Sanada freaked out over Yukimura. But he would never admit that aloud. "Anyway, he could freak out on his own without dragging us into it."

"I think that it's reassuring for him to have us around. Like when we were in junior high."

"Okay. Great. So, we're baby-sitting Sanada while he makes us run a ridiculous number of kilometers. I'll let my ancestors know that my charitable works for the year are so done." He was bitching, and sounding dangerously like Kirihara, and he knew it. But he was hot enough to not be hungry - some injustices could not be tolerated lightly.

Jackal only smiled at him and offered a bottle of water. It was lukewarm from the heat of the bus, but it felt good moistening his throat. "Jackal, I want to sleep for the rest of the ride, but I can't lean against the window because I keep smacking my head, and even though I know it'll be hot with our skin touching, I'm going to lay on you because you'll be more comfortable," and Marui flopped over unceremoniously half-into his partner's lap. Jackal was kind enough not to argue and even readjusted Marui's limbs so they'd both be comfortable.

Marui closed his eyes. Jackal was warm, but it was different than the suffocating heat of the bus. It was a good kind of warm. The kind that made his eyes stay shut, and then made him forget anything else for a while.

*****

They went to a prestigious school, but it was no Hyoutei. So, it came as no surprise to Marui that the "training camp" wasn't a luxurious sports complex. But he hadn't expected the run-down cabin in no-man's land. What were they? Seigaku? He didn't even see tennis courts. What was the point of this trip? He quickly felt the good mood that his nap had provided evaporating in the face of their accommodations for the week. Renji stood by Sanada's side, likely asking questions about the surrounding area. Kirihara had already bounded off to explore said area. Three years of aging hadn't managed to settle him down much. Marui privately thought he needed a healthy dose of ritalin. Both doubles pairs stood looking at the cabin. Even Yagyuu looked dubious.

"This place is probably haunted..." Niou's voice trailed off ominously.

"Can it, Niou. Kirihara's not around and none of us are buying it." Marui didn't mean to snap. Usually, he found Niou funny; he just wasn't in the mood. He wanted modern convenience. It was a western-style building, so Marui was holding out hope for an air-conditioner or at least fans. He started up the rickety cobbled walkway to the house. "Sanada, is this place locked?"

In response, a key was thrown to his partner. "Set up your bunks and meet down here for conditioning."

The only conditioning Marui was in the mood for involved a compression unit, but he made his appropriate affirmation as he followed his doubles partner into the cabin.

It was hot inside. Hot and stale. Not that he'd ever been in one, but Marui imagined it was what a grave felt like. They wandered in slowly, looking around. It seemed like a rustic vacation house. Probably privately owned by some people the Sanada family knew. Jackal and Yagyuu immediately headed up the stairs. Marui and Niou stood in the common area, staring around.

"Okay. So it doesn't look haunted, but it is kind of decrepit," Niou's voice was deadpan. It wasn't one of his jokes.

Marui nodded his agreement. The place clearly hadn't seen any recent use. There was a fine layer of dust on everything. Rather than running, their first order of business should probably be to make the cabin livable... not that he was going to suggest it. Marui hated housework. He was forever conniving ways to make his younger brothers do his chores. A glance at the far wall made his heart swell: a thermostat! He hurried over, adjusted the temperature, turned it on, and waited for the telltale hum. Nothing. Weird. He looked out the nearest window and easily saw what he suspected used to be the compression unit, and had been transformed by time and nature into a planter. Niou'd followed him over and joined him at the window. A low whistle from his teammate confirmed his suspicions that he was looking at the air-conditioner and that it was in no condition to work. He almost let his forehead sag against the glass, but it was covered in some grime that Marui did not want on his forehead, so he just sighed instead.

By this time, Jackal and Yagyuu were coming back down the stairs, each step echoing loudly in the otherwise quiet house. "What are you two doing? We need to meet Sanada back outside." Yagyuu could really get on Marui's nerves sometimes. Sure he could be kind of devilish and cool on the tennis courts, but Marui suspected that was Niou's influence. Off of them, he was the kind of goody-goody that made Marui want to act like a grade-schooler and put gum in his hair.

Niou chuckled and turned towards the stairs. "I hear ya, but we're gonna wanna open these windows. The AC's not working."

Jackal only nodded and went to doing exactly that. Marui swallowed up his bitterness at his doubles partner being infinitely better at dealing with the weather than he was and hurried up the stairs. There were two bedrooms with four beds in each; Niou was in one, putting his stuff on a bed next to Yagyuu's. Marui turned to the opposite door and tossed his duffle on a bed that creaked alarmingly. They were tiny, metal-framed twin beds. Jackal was going to look comical sleeping in one. He'd had a growth spurt during their freshman year of high school that turned him into a veritable giant. He was 6'4" when he'd finally stopped growing. It impressed Marui as much as it pissed him off - he'd never grown over 5'6". While in the room, he went ahead and opened the window, waiting for a breeze that never came. Weren't they near the mountains? Shouldn't there be some kind of cooling wind? Maybe the nights would be colder. He'd heard about that happening in the mountains, and while he knew they weren't in the mountains... they had to be near them. He didn't bother to grab his tennis racket before he left, as there weren't any visible courts. Some tennis camp.

When he got downstairs Kirihara was grousing his way inside and up the stairs to drop his bag, and everyone else was unloading some basic foodstuffs. He was secretly glad that he'd missed any heavy-lifting, and waited to join Jackal as he made his way back outside to start their training camp.

*****

Night four of training camp found Marui lying in bed hating life... or more specifically hating Sanada. They'd brought up the air-conditioning on day one, after a particularly grueling session of physical conditioning. Sanada's rationale had been that dojo don't have air-conditioning. Right. And Sanada had only become more zen by the day - a steely stoicism replacing his usual zeal in the face of the heat and humidity. Marui didn't know whether it would be the weather or his vice-captain that drove him insane first.

It didn't help that Renji had decided that all activities would be done with a partner. Seemed awesome at first... until he realized that Jackal would be permanently partnered with Kirihara - being the only one who could continually control the little brat. Marui honestly didn't know how Jackal didn't lose his patience and snap the cocky sophomore in two. Despite Kirihara's rather impressive growth spurt, he wasn't nearly as big as Jackal. No one was. No, Marui didn't get the pleasure of Jackal's company, but he wasn't stuck with Kirihara. He didn't get to hang out with Niou, but he didn't have to be bored by Yagyuu. Even better: he got to play third wheel to Yanagi and Sanada. He wasn't Yukimura and he had no place in that little trifecta, nor did he want one. Yanagi wasn't so bad - nice, if quiet. But with Sanada there, next to him, breathing down his neck, he couldn't complain about anything. He'd actually tried reasoning quietly with Yanagi about the insanity of the workout during a set of sit-ups, but somehow Sanada had heard and assigned him an extra fifteen for whining. It hadn't even been whining!

Marui attempted to unstick himself from the scratchy sheets, shifting sore, sweaty limbs as little as possible. He felt a drop of sweat make its slow way down over his collar bone and shoulder, grossing him out and not doing anything to cool him off. He shuddered. He wasn't going to survive the week.

"Bunta," the quiet whisper barely carried over the hum of cicadas, but the groan of the bed frame next to his definitely did.

"You never call me by my given name in front of our teammates," Marui turned his head towards Jackal's impressive silhouette.

"They're sleeping."

"Ah. Yes. Well, what makes you talkative this evening? Aren't you so exhausted that you want to fall dead asleep? We all know that was the plan, after all."

There was a short pause before Jackal answered. "I've been having trouble sleeping on these beds... They're uncomfortable."

Marui snorted and immediately covered his mouth. He lifted his head and checked the only other occupied bed in the room. Kirihara didn't move, which didn't surprise Marui in the least; the kid fell asleep all kinds of places. The only person in the universe more adept at sleeping was that fanboy of his from Hyoutei.

"You haven't been sleeping well either," Jackal didn't say it like a question, which meant he knew that Marui had spent the nights laying in his puddle of sweat and staring at the ceiling in misery.

"It's too hot to sleep properly. And why the hell didn't you say anything sooner if you were awake?"

"I was hoping that one of us would eventually get some rest."

"Well... that's kinda thoughtful," Marui admitted reluctantly.

"You're hot?"

"Yes, Jackal. I'm hot. I think I've said it a million times since we got here and that hasn't changed in the time we've spent at this beautiful summer retreat."

"There's a lake..."

"What?" He covered his mouth again. He was really going to have to get control of those little outbursts. They both listened for any movement from their teammates. Clearly, Sanada's Operation Exhaust Team was working for everyone else.

"Kirihara found it, actually," Jackal continued after several minutes passed without any sound from Kirihara or the room across the hall.

"So, his random activity has proven useful, after all." Marui climbed off the bed. Unless the lake was fed by a hot spring - and they'd all be smelling sulfur in that case - it would feel infinitely better than this house. "Come on, Jackal. We're going swimming." He could just see his partner's toothy smile in the scant moonlight the window provided. He grabbed his t-shirt off the foot of his bed, yanked it over his head, and noticed that Jackal was doing the same. They stopped at the door to the room to shove their feet into their tennis shoes and continued to creep out, concentrating on being as quiet as possible. They were so focused, they didn't notice the shift of the figure in the bed across from Jackal's.

Down the stairs, out the back door, Marui tried not to laugh or make any other noise. It felt good to be breaking out of Sanada's structured days. There was enough moonlight to easily find their way along the path that lead from the cabin. They hurried along it, not quite running. It was amazing that after days of running, he could still move quickly and wanted to.

"It's not far," Jackal didn't say the words so much as breath them as he turned off the path and into some brush. Marui was doubly glad that he'd taken time to grab his shirt. He didn't want to be wandering around the woods in naught but his boxers.

He wouldn't have been wandering long. They quickly came out of some trees that opened to a lake shore. It was a much bigger lake than Marui'd expected. Big enough to be put on a map. He briefly wondered what its name was... then he noticed Jackal stripping and such details seemed trivial. He hurried to join his partner, kicking his shoes off at the base of a tree and throwing his shirt and boxers over a branch. Jackal was already walking to the water by the time Marui'd undressed, and he waited till Jackal was knee deep before running at the water and his partner with the full intention of knocking him down. Only, he forgot sometimes that Jackal was nicknamed the Wall. He hit Jackal hard... and Jackal didn't so much as flinch. Marui clung to the broad shoulders futilely. Jackal's laughter rumbled in his chest, Marui had only a moment to suffer indignance before he was plucked from Jackal's back, yanked around his body, and tossed further into the lake. He hit the water with a slap and tried to imagine that he hadn't actually squealed and flailed on the way down.

Jackal was still laughing when he came up sputtering. "Not cool," he didn't want to sound as petulant as he did.

"You tried to knock me down."

"But I didn't."

"Only because you couldn't."

"Totally irrelevant."

Jackal waded out to him and Marui couldn't help noticing that the water only came up to Jackal's hips. It was cold. The lake must've been fed by those mountains that had to be around somewhere. He shivered in the pause of conversation and activity.

"Not hot anymore?" Jackal smiled a small smile - just the tiniest curve of his mouth that was beyond sexy in Marui's esteemed opinion.

"Not so much. No." Though, it was a welcome change from the heat, he didn't particularly like being cold, either. Marui was a person of moderate temperatures; he liked to save "extreme" for things like emotions, tennis, and eating.

"I could keep you warm," Jackal's voice was low and rough, and Marui didn't have to guess what he meant. Even though they were in the middle of nowhere, there was something incredibly arousing about Jackal saying that out in the open.

"You wouldn't hear any arguments from me," Marui's fingers found Jackal's leg, sliding up the firm muscles to the smooth plain of the front of his hip.

Jackal groaned, and it was all the warning Marui received before arms wrapped around him and yanked him against his partner's very warm chest. He tilted his head up to meet Jackal's kiss. It was impatient, like it had been waiting all week for this moment. He opened to the kiss, inviting Jackal deeper, moaning into the press of lips.

His leg slid against Jackal's, and a knee slid between his. He sucked in a breath, and Jackal sucked on his bottom lip. The water lapped against his back, and Marui was surprised that it wasn't evaporating with how hot he felt - an infinitely better kind of heat than he'd felt all week. He scraped his teeth down Jackal's neck, loving the growl that rumbled through Jackal's chest and into his, loving the hands tightening on his back, loving the way he was pressed so firmly against Jackal that he wasn't sure he'd be able to move.

A dark figure watched from the trees near the lake's shore with eyes wide, breath short, heart pounding, and shorts tight.

Those hands on his back and hips were gripping and groping and Marui knew that he'd spend the rest of the week looking like bruised fruit. It only made him want to return the favor. "Pick me up, 'Hara." He didn't have to ask twice, and large, strong hands slid down over his ass, grabbed, and lifted. Their chests rubbed together. Their erections pressed against one another. It felt too good. Marui leaned in and sunk his teeth into Jackal's shoulder. Jackal grunted, and those hands on his ass gripped unforgivingly tight. His legs wrapped around Jackal, pulling him closer to the delicious friction.

God, it felt good. Nothing felt as good as this. Marui's fingers dug in where they clung to Jackal's back, nails biting skin. Jackal loved it. He knew Jackal loved it by the way he groaned into Marui's hair and the way he roughly ground against him. Marui couldn't keep his voice down, secretly enjoying the way any sounds they made echoed back at them in the clearing. They thrust against each other; faster; heat building. The water splashed against them, cold droplets dotting Jackal's skin. Marui licked them away.

He wasn't going to last. He pressed his face into Jackal's chest, hot against his cheek. His teeth clenched. Heat curled low in his belly, his balls drew up painfully tight. Jackal grunted, choked, and jerked; his hands tightened and their hips bumped together painfully hard. Come spurted hot and sticky between them. Marui thrust against Jackal, sliding in the thick and viscous liquid. He felt his muscles seizing, felt the heat erupt. It hit him like a wave, a dozen waves. He trembled with them, lucky to still have Jackal's arms holding him up. He couldn't breathe or think. He just held on until the world came back into focus.

"Bunta... I need to put you down," Jackal's voice was strained and his breathing was labored.

Marui only nodded, and the water was even colder this time. He leaned against Jackal and let it rinse away any evidence of what had just happened. They sagged together, catching their breath. Marui used the time to enjoy the way Jackal's skin felt when it was wet. "You always know how to cheer me up, Kuwa-chan."

"Of course I do, Buntita."

"I thought -ito was the masculine ending."

"It is, but Buntita sounds cuter."

"You are really lucky that I don't take offense to that sort of thing." Marui finally stood under his own power and looked up to Jackal's smiling face.

The bushes near the water's edge shook with hurried movement.

"Kirihara thinks that we didn't notice him," Jackal chuckled.

"The little pervert. That should give him something to think about for the rest of the camp."

"Who's the pervert? We let him watch," Jackal raised an eyebrow.

Marui shrugged. "He needed an education. I don't really care about anything else when you're touching me, anyway." He lowered himself backwards into the water, legs lifting up as he floated.

Fingers slid along his back under the water, and he shivered. "I intend to be the only one touching you."

"Possessive." Marui didn't mind.

"I'm possessive? You left a bite mark."

"I'm going to have bruises all over my back and hips and ass."

"It's not my fault you have such pale skin." Marui knew that his skin was one of Jackal's favorite things, so the comment had no weight.

"It should be pretty interesting in the showers tomorrow."

"I don't think anyone will say anything..." Which meant that Jackal hoped that no one would say anything. Niou might, but Marui wouldn't mention that.

"I just hope it wrecks Sanada's zen a little to see finger marks on my ass."

"You can wreck anyone's zen."

"I don't know... I'm feeling pretty at peace with the natural world at the moment."

"Zen?"

"Sure."

"What we just did is zen?"

"Why not? Don't you feel closer to enlightenment? My inner voice is definitely quieted."

"Did you just compare orgasm to satori?"

"Scandalized yet?"

"No, I think you're onto something. The buddhist monks should've discovered it ages ago."

"It kinda involves being tied to the flesh a little, though."

Jackal shrugged. "But it's a kind of 'out of body' experience."

Marui laughed and sank into the water. When he came back up Jackal brushed his wet bangs back from his face. He did feel calmer. "Mm. 'Hara, we should meditate like this more often."

Cool off, Manders!

solanum_d — Sat, 20 Sep 2008 12:17:22 GMT

Recipient: polyurethane (Amanda Eileen)
Title: Experiment
Pairing/Characters: Yanagi/Kirihara, Rikkai ensemble.
Beta: U-L-chan.
Disclaimer: The boys belong to each other and to Konomi-sensei. Just borrowing them for a bit.
Rating: T (PG-13) mostly for swearing...

If you are to ask the members of Rikkaidai’s tennis team, almost everyone has their own idea of what has happened that night, but only two people know the truth. It is a regular outing; summer is upon them, Yukimura is finally well and has recovered enough from his surgery for Kirihara to be able and drag him with him to the onsen, to cheer him up as he says. Sanada has followed because he is worried about what Kirihara can do to Yukimura, Yanagi has followed because why pass up a good chance to get data, Niou has followed because he wants to see if there are some fun to be had, Yagyuu has followed to keep an eye on Niou, Marui has followed because he is bored and Jackal has followed because someone needs to keep an eye on everyone.

It’s all supposed to be a regular trip to the onsen. Well, as regular as it can be, with Kirihara being the one instigating the entire trip, and no one knows exactly why things have turned out the way it has. The teachers responsible for each student sit down with them, having a lengthy one on one talk with them. Maybe, just maybe, this can bring some light to the situation…

Yukimura:

I’m not sure where to start… Well, I’ll try. Please be patient with me, as I really don’t know all the details… To begin with, it was Akaya’s idea. The entire team ended up at the onsen and we were having a good time, at least I think we did. And after eating and spending some time in the hot spring, I went for a run. I love to be able to exercise my body again, you know? So I ran. The night was nice, still warm even though the stars were out, and very peaceful. And when I came back, it had already happened. They were gone. But even though we searched high and low for them, we couldn’t find them… And yet they reappeared without as much as a single explanation the following morning. I… really don’t’ know what to think about that.

Sanada:

I have nothing to say.

Please, you need to give me something to work with here…

What do you expect me to say? That they were stupid? I’ll say it. That they should have kept from running off? I’ll say it. That it was good that they weren’t hurt? I won’t say that. As irresponsible as they were, they’ve gotten of the hook far too easily.

But if they were abducted…

Has anyone implied that they were?

Yanagi:

I don’t see why you bother asking me this. Please leave.

I need to know the details…

There are none. …But that can’t be true, and this boy has to know everything… That was what you were planning to say, wasn’t it? Maybe so. Still… That’s only for me to know.

Please leave.

Niou:

Lemme just start by sayin’ that none of it was my fault, ‘kay? I didn’t make ‘em disappear and I didn’t mess up the room either. Wait. You’re not askin’ about that, are you? Crap. Well, forget the room, ‘kay? Ain’t important right now. I’ll tell you what happened. Nada. They just got lost. And the room was a mess when we got there, ‘kay? You’re just tryin’ to find someone to blame because it’s gonna make it easier for you guys. Well, I ain’t helpin’. Puri~

Yagyuu:

Very well, I’ll try to be as thorough as possible. Everything was in order as we arrived at the onsen. We booked a room, went to change into our yukata, and then went down for dinner. I believe they served an assortment of seafood, really delicious. Yukimura-kun, Sanada-kun, Yanagi-kun and Kirihara-kun sat at one long side of the table, Marui-kun, Kuwahara-kun, Niou-kun and me myself sat at the other. We all drank water and I remember Kirihara-kun complaining that there weren’t any soda… Or alcohol for that matter. I believe Sanada-kun snapped at him then, and we all wondered if Kirihara-kun had earned himself a slap now… But that didn’t seem to be the case.

After we finished with the dinner, everyone made their way over to the spring, and the water was wonderful. Of course, Kirihara-kun had to ruin the serenity of the place by splashing around, and he got Marui-kun to start as well. In the end, Sanada-kun had to scold them, and believe me, you don’t want the details.

We were all in all having a good time however, and by the time nightfall came, we wanted to head back to the room for some friendly game of ping-pong and just chatting around. Yukimura-kun – I think that boy is extremely restless, actually – wanted to go for a run however, so he did. The night went by peacefully, and then Yanagi-kun had to go to the bathroom. Nothing wrong with that, most of us had went of course, at some point of the day. What was odd however, was the fact that he took quite a bit of a time at the bathroom. Yanagi-kun is often very quick were such matters are concerned, and still he wasn’t back even though fifteen minutes had passed. Kirihara-kun was certain he had been attacked or murdered, and really, he watches too many criminal shows on TV, or if he reads too much detective manga, I’m not sure… Oh, but I digress. Where was I? Oh, yes. Kirihara-kun. Anyway, he went looking for Yanagi-kun, and I was actually glad that he did. Not that I believed that Yanagi-kun was killed or anything, but he could have slipped and hurt himself. So, someone really should go and look for him.

There was only one problem… Kirihara-kun didn’t come back either. They were both gone. We searched everywhere for them, asked the staff if they had seen them, and when Yukimura-kun came back, he helped looking for them as well. But no matter how much we searched for them… Nothing.

We went to bed with heavy heart, everyone, and I actually doubt that either Yukimura-kun or Sanada-kun slept at all that night… But when morning came, Kirihara-kun and Yanagi-kun reappeared. And the odd thing was that they could offer no explanation as to why and where they were gone. And that’s all I have to say on the matter.

Or wait, maybe not all. Some time before we realized that Yanagi-kun was missing, Niou-kun thought that it’d be fun to put some crackers into the shell of a left over lobster. So… It exploded. I hope you don’t have to pay for cleaning the room up… You do? Oh. Well, of course you do…

Marui:

We came, we saw, we got wet, lost some gained some. Dunno what else to say. Yeah. Got any gum?

Please try and understand that this is serious. Now tell me, what’s going on here?

Ask Kirihara? Or Yanagi? I dunno. Quit bothering me.

Kuwahara:

Course we were worried. I mean, I was worried, I’m sure everyone was. And we went looking for them when they disappeared, you know? But we didn’t find them. They turned up though and they seemed fine, so I don’t really understand why you need to ask us all these questions. No one got hurt, and if they don’t want to say where they were, it’s their business, right? The only one that got hurt was that poor dead lobster. Oh! I shouldn’t have said that, should I? Oh, you already know who did it? Oh, okay then…

Kirihara:

Talk about lame.

Don’t stare at me! I talk if I wanna talk.

And I don’t.

So piss off!

Niou-sempai? How should I know what he’s been up to? Oh, that… Well, doesn’t matter, does it?

Screw this.

*

And the teachers realize they’re not going to get much more out of the boys. Yagyuu-kun has been helpful, but there is still one large gap. What exactly happened to Yanagi-kun and Kirihara-kun? The truth that only two people know, the truth everyone else is itching to know… That truth is here.

***

Well, Yanagi-senpai had to be somewhere, Akaya realized as much. He stopped out on the porch and glanced over towards the lavatory. No sign of Yanagi there. Akaya shrugged to himself, hating to admit it, but he was getting a little bit worried. So maybe he should go and look, just to make sure…

“Yanagi-senpai?”

No reply.

“Yanagi-senpai, are you there?”

Still no reply. Being half a mind to just walk up to the door and pound onto it, Akaya stopped suddenly when he caught a glimpse of something. Footprints. That lead away from the lavatory. Into the forest? Why would Yanagi have made his way into the forest? That didn’t make sense.

Curious, Akaya considered calling the others, but then thought against it, as he wanted the honour of finding Yanagi all to himself. Instead he followed the footsteps deeper and deeper into the forest, until he reached a small brook, where the prints ended. Instead came there a voice from somewhere within the trees.

“I knew you’d come here.”

“Yanagi-senpai?! Hey, what gives?”

Yanagi stepped out from the shadows, his face calm as ever.

“Two things. First of all, an experiment.”

Akaya blinked. “Buwah?”

“Would I be missed? How long would it take for people to miss me? How pivotal to the team’s structure am I? Who would come look for me, would anyone come and look for me?”

Akaya was silent for a moment, his brain slowly processing what it was Yanagi was saying.

“So you like went and made people worry about you purposely? That’s a pretty crappy thing to do, you know!”

“Of course it is. People would never suspect me of doing something like that, therefore I can do it.” Yanagi shrugged. “The other reason… Don’t you want to know what it was?”

“No.” Akaya sulked and was just about to leave when Yanagi’s hand placed itself upon his shoulder and he moved closer to the younger boy, his ever closed eyes hidden in shadows.

“I knew you’d be the one coming to look. And I knew you’d come alone. That’s not difficult to figure out. And since we are alone, I have one more experiment I want to try out.”

“I don’t like experiments, you know? Really don’t like mind fuckery ones like the ones you’re doing. So just let me go! I’m gonna go back to the others.”

“But I think you’ll like this experiment… But you have to promise to keep from telling anyone.”

“Why is that?”

“You’ll see when I’ve done it.” And then he did it. Yanagi leaned forward, lightly catching Akaya’s lips with his, and Akaya could do nothing but stare, his mind slowly coming to the conclusion that it didn’t taste all that bad. Really, it hardly tasted anything. Girls in his class had muttered something about kisses tasting like lemon or something or the other, but it was nothing like that at all. It was just warm and cold and dry and wet and weird. And it was Yanagi-senpai who kissed him. And it was Yanagi-senpai who pulled away from him.

“Wha—What was that about?!”

“The experiment.” Yanagi looked incredibly smug. “I wanted to see what your reaction would be. And how you tasted. If I could get myself to get used to the taste.”

“Why would you want to do that? And what kind of bastard are you anyway? Kissing someone – a guy, me, - as some kind of experiment? That’s lame. Like totally lame! I ain’t no fucking experiment, you know!”

Yanagi shook his head and smiled. “Of course you’re not. The main reason for the experiment is that I’ve considered several times to ask you out, or something along those lines. However, I’m not good at expressing sentimental feelings. I need to make my point clear though, and this seemed like a way as good as anyone.”

Akaya thought for a moment, his mouth wide agape. “So… You’re like saying… You wanna be with me?”

Yanagi nodded, then said with an uncharacteristically swiftness: “But of course I understand that it was a very roundabout way and that you’re probably not interested, but can I please ask you to keep from mentioning this to the others anyway?”

Akaya, never one to really think before he acted, simply walked up to Yanagi, pushed him down onto the ground, straddled him and smirked.

“Shut up. I liked it. I sure as hell don’t understand you but I guess I kinda wanna be with you too. So just shut up.” He leaned down to kiss Yanagi on the lips, then awkwardly tried to push his tongue into the other boy’s mouth, just like he had seen them do in hentai movies, found out that it was wet and slippery and just plain odd, and quickly pulled out again. Ugh.

“I didn’t like that though.” He spat. “I think I have your spit in my mouth!”

Yanagi only looked at him, one eyebrow crooked. Akaya thought there might be the hint of a smile on his lips, but it was too dark to really tell for sure. One little thing tickled him in the back of his mind however, and he had to ask:

“So… Why the not telling?”

“Simple. Prejudice. If it gets known that there is a gay relationship within Rikkaidai, the club’s morale could falter. Our name could be slandered and we could lose whatever dignity we have.”

“We have no dignity. Seigaku took that from us. And besides, if the team knows… Who’s gonna tell, huh?”

“Do you really expect Niou and Marui to be able to keep quiet?”

To that, Akaya had no reply.

“Fine. No telling. So, should we go back?”

“No… I want to spend the night under the stars.” Yanagi paused. “… With you.”

“It’s gonna get cold.”

“I… think we can keep ourselves warm.”

A smile made its way to Akaya’s lips and he nodded, grinning.

“Fine!”

And Akaya found out that the warmth of the summer day spread its way all the way through the night; he wasn’t cold even once.

END

Cool Off, Rei!

senshixdoukeshi — Fri, 19 Sep 2008 15:40:22 GMT

Recipient: lafuego
Title: Popsicles and Pina Coladas
Pairings/Characters: Yuushi/Gakuto
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis, I am not making any money off of this.

The second day of summer, Oshitari Yuushi woke up to find a piece of paper tacked onto the bedroom door and himself the sole occupant of the apartment he shared with Mukahi Gakuto.

Dear Yuushi,
I was reading a book the other day, about how birds migrate away during certain seasons, and I thought that maybe I'd try it too. It's been a long spring. I left you my itinerary on the table so that in case I didn't come back by the end of break you'd know where to start looking for me.

Take care, you bastard, don't break too many hearts, gotta leave a few for Shishido to try his feeble attempts at flirting on. Make sure they're the ugly ones though, just to piss him off.

- Gakuto.

------

It’s harder than he thought it would be, getting along without Gakuto. The girls swarm him with no mind for personal space now that Gakuto isn’t around to scare them off, and he misses laughing at what happens to the unfortunate people who approach Gakuto thinking he’s Oshitari’s girlfriend. Nobody buys him chocolate spontaneously, or leaves bird feathers all over the house, speckled bits of brown fluff that only mean something to people who know the joy of flight. Every glimpse of red hair is an inadvertent compulsion to turn his head (his neck is beginning to ache; he would never have guessed that redheads were so prevalent in these parts.)

There is nothing for it, then. He checks where Gakuto will be within the next two days, hastily dumps a few items of clothing into his bag, and heads off to the train station.

------

He arrives at five o’clock in the evening on a Wednesday.

“You’re blocking the sunlight,” is the first thing that Gakuto says to him, in a rather bored tone. He cannot help but feel slightly hurt at the lack of appreciation of his efforts. “Why are you here, anyway?”

“Surprise?”

Gakuto rolls his eyes expressively, but makes space under the umbrella for Oshitari to sit down anyway.

------

The weather in the morning is beautiful, sea and sky vast in equal portions, shifting masses of white cloud and wave stippling the expanse of blue. Gakuto walks the edge of the tide, the water lapping at his toes. The waves crest as dollops of frothy foam that dissipate, fizzling away into the sand, which falls away beyond the outline of his foot.

Oshitari has a rather nasty tendency to burn and peel until he resembles, very unattractively, a half-ripened strawberry: shiny, red and white in patches, and freckles. This explains the monstrosity of a sunhat on his head: it is made of straw, the size of a rather large puffer fish and looks like a miniaturised beach hut. Gakuto snorts.

“What?” Oshitari turns around to shoot Gakuto a pointed look. “When you drag yourself back, raw and pink like that sashimi we had for dinner, covered in sand that rubs against your tender skin, you’ll wish you had worn a hat like this and I’ll tell you I told you so and grin smugly at your pain.”

"Huh." Gakuto rolls his eyes and turns back to contemplating the sea dissolving the sand around his feet. "You didn't tell me why you came, by the way. A lack of anyone to feel superior to is not an emergency, genius. You could just have called up Shishido if you wanted to feel good about yourself."

"You know perfectly well that if I did, I'd be wasting my superior intellect and Ohtori would give me reproachful looks throughout the entirety of next month's Hyotei tennis club reunion. And it's much more scenic around here." Oshitari wiggles his eyebrows meaningfully.

Gakuto mimes gagging and kicks sand at Oshitari, who dodges deftly. "No thanks to you."

"You wound me, my love," replies Oshitari, clutching his chest in mock anguish. "How do you know that I didn't just yearn for your delightful company?"

There is a moment of awkward silence, wherein a hermit crab scuttles across Gakuto's half-submerged foot and Oshitari suddenly becomes very interested in a mass of sopping, mangled seaweed several metres away.

A seagull abruptly swoops past and squawks loudly in Gakuto's ear, making him yelp and leap up, spraying wet sand all over. Oshitari takes off in the direction of the ice-cream stand, clutching onto his hat in an uncharacteristically undignified manner and pausing only to turn back and yell, "Last one there buys icecream!"

Gakuto makes sure to strategically drip some strawberry icecream down the back of Oshitari's neck afterwards.

----

At three o'clock in the afternoon the sun is incandescent above the palm trees, and everything is soft and hazy, mirage-like. Umbrellas dot the horizon, perched gingerly in the sand: lone defenses against the onslaught of heat that shimmers faintly in the air, drooping a little at the edges. The seawater vapour blown in by the breeze mixes with their sweat, sinks into their skin, evaporates from between their fingers. It leaves faint mineral traces glistening in the hollows of palms, crooks of elbows; the tang of salt on their lips.

Oshitari is lying limply in a hammock strung between two palm trees that look equally as wilted as him, a book over his face and his arms dangling over the sides.

"You look like a corpse," says Gakuto, cheerful in spite of the heat. "It's not very attractive, you're like that dead squid I threw back into the sea yesterday, only more... sunburnt. Like a lobster-squid hybrid." He looks appraisingly and smugly at Oshitari's nose, which has begun to peel and is streaked red (this due to Oshitari's poor sunblock application skills).

He saunters over to the umbrella and seats himself casually on the mat. Oshitari considers hurling something at him, but the heat is immense, like sub-aerial magma seeping into his veins, spreading laterally, solidifying; and in any case the only things he has on him are his shorts and his book (his spectacles lie abandoned on the sand beneath, having long slid off together with the perspiration dripping down his nose), and he doesn't want to offend public decency or lose a perfectly good romance novel.

"I should be speeding down a highway in an open-top car blaring music, with the best of my half of Hyotei's fangirls in bikinis giggling adoringly in my ear, arms draped over my shoulders, not lying in a plastic hammock leaving sweat splotches on the pages of my precious new book." Oshitari tries very hard to sound indignant, but he is muffled by the book covering his mouth and it comes out slurred, a laughably unintelligible string of sounds.

Gakuto, lying on his back staring up at the underside of the umbrella, sniggers. The fronds of the palm leaves above Oshitari's head shiver slightly, stirred by a momentary breeze; Oshitari for a second thinks giddily that they, too, are shaking with suppressed laughter at him. The heat is surely unhinging him: over the top of his book he can see Gakuto's hair, damp red tendrils stuck to his cheek with sweat, and somehow he is more interested in staring at that than continuing to envision his open-top car-with-adoring-girls fantasy. It's too hot even to move his head, so it's not really his fault if he keeps looking in that direction.

Something cold lands on his stomach and he sits up so fast that he falls off the hammock and emerges with a mouth full of sand.

"Popsicle!” says Gakuto, around the one in his mouth, with unholy enthusiasm given the heat. Oshitari gingerly gropes around in the sand for the one he has been given, and they sit in companionable silence for some time sucking the colour out of the ice.

The juice is the colour of the sunrise, slipping down the webs of their fingers like liquid light, tracing out an imaginary map of their veins, down the back of Oshitari’s hand. Gakuto casually leans over and palms it off and Oshitari feels the stickiness of his hand and the grit of sand grains rub against his skin, raw with the heat.

“Let’s do something exciting tonight,” says Gakuto, lips pursed in thought.

Oshitari shrugs. “Whatever you like.”

---

"THIS IS YOUR IDEA OF EXCITEMENT?" Oshitari doesn't believe in shouting. It is boorish, uncouth and goes entirely against his upbringing. (“Only the uncouth have to holler to make themselves heard, darling, it’s just not done, that is the epitome of inelegance.” This is one of the clearest memories of his mother, with her buttery drawl and the aristocratic curl of her fingers around a teacup: he bursts into his room, an excited six-year-old whirlwind, finds her perched gingerly on the edge of his bed, all curled hair and eyelashes and crossed legs; stares with all his might until she rebukes him for being gauche.)

Even at top volume his voice is barely audible over the thumping of the music, someone's head is bumping against his chin and someone else's elbow is uncomfortably close to his nether regions. He's not sure when they started making people so short. Probably pina coladas have a growth retardant.

The only reason why he's here is because Gakuto insists that to come all the way out here on a summer holiday and to sit in their little beach hut at night watching reruns of dramas is ridiculously boring. He knows why Gakuto likes clubbing: it's physical, faceless, unconditional, and Gakuto is good at dancing.

Inside the room feels like another galaxy altogether; the darkness lies heavy like velvet so that the lights waft their way across the room, cutting swathes of white illumination through. Oshitari catches a glimpse of cherry gloss there, the smooth tan of calf here, the shadowed groove of sinew; the sensuality of it all is driving him mad. "GAKUTO!" he yells, no longer caring who he might deafen. "I'M GOING TO THE BAR NOW." He sees someone shaped like Gakuto turn towards him, then flees as elegantly as it is possible to when one is nearly asphyxiating.

In contrast the bar is fairly empty, dim and quiet but for the chink of glasses on the counter-top. Oshitari wavers between looking like a loser on the middle seat, or looking like a loser in the corner instead, and decides he'd cut a better figure by himself in the corner - in the manner of a brooding romantic hero cloaked in shadow.

The drink he ends up picking is a peculiar shade of pond-green, which he hopes is simply some trick of the dark. Watch the alcohol, he tells himself. At Atobe’s post-Nationals party (which turned out to be more of an alcohol binge session for the majority and created a good deal of incriminating photographic evidence for the less discreet amongst them) he sat in the library drinking sake by himself to cloud out the torment of loss: to the point that he only vaguely recalls pressing someone up against the bookshelves in the library after, hip awkwardly jammed against the massive potted plant beside. The next day he'd woken up with a bruised jaw and he can’t remember how or why (wilder theories include his attempt to master a dance involving the ice sculpture, a pole and a pair of heels).

Unfortunately by his third glass he forgets his own caution to himself. The drink is more potent than it seems, which explains his current inebriation and everything that happens after.
----------

Oshitari slides the pad of his thumb gently over Gakuto's cheekbone and leans in, kisses him with the slow burn of alcohol warm in his throat and the scent of cigarette smoke tainting the air between them.

This feels too familiar for it to be novelty; and he recalls with a sudden sickening clarity the striking red hue of hair against the dull brown of leather, the dark curve of eyelashes on a pale cheek.

Inevitably he braces himself for the punch that will follow, but instead Gakuto simply looks at him for a moment, eyes wide and purple, and runs away: a leaf swirling across a field, blown by the wind.

----------

By unspoken consensus nobody is mentioning what didn't happen last night. They’re in the movie room because everywhere else is either closed at this time or too full for comfort.

Gakuto gingerly pokes at a plush red seat two rows from the back. It looks fairly clean, but then again everything tends to in the dark.

"Are you sure you can see from there?" Oshitari can't help but lapse into their usual mocking banter, but today it feels hollow and trite and he wishes he could take it back the moment he says it. Gakuto flips him the finger and flings himself with a sigh down on a seat.

----------

Oshitari doesn’t see Gakuto until the next afternoon at lunch.

He’s spent a sleepless night trying to figure out what he can conceivably do to redeem himself this time, but when Gakuto turns up looking as terrible as he feels he loses his eloquence from sheer guilt.

“Gakuto.” Gakuto turns away from him, but he grabs his arm and says, “Look, I -”

“No, you look.” Gakuto whirls around in fury and wrenches his arm free. "You pulled this crap with me after the Nationals party when you were drunk and you never did anything beyond that, or acted any different, then you dated everything and anything remotely attractive in a skirt and do you think that was fun, listening to you talk about everyone you dated like something you could drop whenever and wondering if that was what what you did was about, too. If I was just conveniently there when you needed a body after us losing in Nationals, and I was the default choice because I was your doubles partner, or I was in the library at the right time.”

There is a defeated, ironic twist to Gakuto’s mouth that Oshitari has never seen before. The silence stretches between them, a chasm possibly unbridgeable by any words or means; the fear jolts him into action.

“I’m sorry,” he says, shrugging helplessly, palms open, knowing full well how inadequately ridiculous it sounds. “This - I - No. You’re not dispensable. Please forgive me.”

He places his palms on his things and bows, holding the position long enough that the blood rushes to his head and the world goes briefly out of focus. Gakuto doesn’t say anything and dread seeps like rainwater into his heart, filling the tiny cracks with panic.

“You’re really stupid, this isn’t some lame romance novel,” he says evenly, eventually.

Oshitari looks up and catches the upward quirk in the left corner of his mouth.

“Anything for you, Gakuto.” He earns himself a shove for his pains, but Gakuto is smiling at him again, so it really doesn’t matter.

----------

On the last day they take the night bus back home. Oshitari sings cheesy boyband songs in English ("Lame," huffs Gakuto, who doesn't understand half of it anyway), against the backdrop of a grimy window full of fingerprints, occasionally backlit by the passing orange of streetlamps. Midway he is interrupted by the popping of fireworks, glittering shrapnel widening into cosmic, concentric circles, winking out; but it's hard to feel annoyed when Gakuto has grabbed him by the hand and is bouncing childlike in the seat beside him, eyes alight with mingled sparkle of flaring fireworks and excitement.

He supposes that this is possibly the most romantic moment of his life.

Cool off, Kasey!

solanum_d — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 19:16:22 GMT

Recipient: kasey_sanada
Title: Getting What You Want
Characters: Minami Kentarou and Sengoku Kiyosumi, with appearances by Higashikata Masami and random Yamabuki freshmen.
Pairing: Minami/Sengoku
Rating: PG-13/not totally worksafe
Disclaimer: This is owned and usually operated by Konomi-sensei. I'm hijacking for joyrides and making no money from this.
Warnings: Boys making out and grinding, some light language and a little UST, sorry I totally forgot the lemon.
Summary: Minami thinks that Sengoku doesn't know what he really wants.
Notes: My first fic of this pairing, but truth be told I think I have at least one more in me. XD Oh and for those of you not in the know, I looked it up and Minami is actually a little taller and quite a bit heavier than Sengoku so everything you read is entirely possible.

Sengoku hummed absently as he strolled into the clubroom with just enough time to see the last of the tennis team members hurrying out to afternoon practice.

"Sengoku-senpai! Actually coming to practice for once?"

"Better hurry up and get changed. I hear Minami-buchou is out for you."

He waved the first-years off with a smile and grimaced at the courts that appeared to shimmer in the summer heat. Even though he was standing in the doorway of the air-conditioned clubroom he plucked at his shirt reflexively. Definitely not a day for running around on hot courts with a bunch of sweaty guys! Though it wasn't like he had any other plans and it would get Minami off his back for a while if he showed up today…

His cell chimed, breaking his train of thought and he quickly dug into his bag to see who'd left him a message. Lucky! he cheered mentally as he read over Mami-chan's invite to karaoke and thumbed a quick response to the text. Looks like I do have plans for today. Sorry Minami! He started to change out of his uniform into clothes he stashed in his locker in case of date emergencies. He'd just finished pulling on his spare jeans when the door to the clubroom opened and shut with a slam. Startled he looked up and froze at the sight of Minami.

"Hey Minami, um just changing."

Minami quirked an eyebrow, "Sengoku, those aren't your tennis shorts."

He sighed and scratched his head sheepishly. "Heh, you caught me. I have a date." He finished buttoning up the fly of his pants and reached for his shirt. He decided to ignore Minami; it wasn't like this was the first time he'd walked out on practice in front of his captain. Besides, it wasn't as if Minami ever tried to stop him, almost like it didn't matter if he showed up at practice or not. Sengoku frowned and dug through his bag in search of his wallet, so busy ignoring his captain he completely missed the way he was being watched.

"So which girl is it this time?"

The question caught him off guard and Sengoku looked up, surprised to see Minami standing over him. He backed up quickly to put some much-needed space between them. "Mami-chan, why?"

Minami stepped closer again and Sengoku stepped back.

"What number is she?"

"What?"

"What number is she." Minami repeated slowly, emphasizing each word and taking a step at each one.

"What do you mean by that?" Sengoku frowned, irritated by Minami's questions as he continued to back up. Why was he bothering to ask now when he never had before? Any why the hell was he getting so close?

"Which number girlfriend is she? Or maybe none of them are your girlfriends? Does that mean you aren't two-timing any of them?" Minami questioned, raising an eyebrow.

Sengoku smiled, all teeth, "I don't know what you mean and I don't really care."

Sengoku's back hit the wall of the clubroom and he realized he'd been backed into a corner. "Damn, if you want me to come to practice that bad, I'll come, ok?"

Minami braced a hand against the wall and leaned closer. "Are they your girlfriends?"

Sengoku shifted, uncomfortable with how close they were standing. "Back off, Minami."

He jumped when a hand fumbled at his pocket. "Wh-what the hell?" He shoved at Minami's shoulder and blinked when it barely gave.

"Mmmm, that's a lot of numbers…"

Sengoku looked up and saw Minami casually scrolling through the contacts. Minami smirked at him and Sengoku grit his teeth.

"Give me back my phone."

"Are any of these your girlfriend?"

"Why do you care? Give me back my phone!" He pushed again and was shoved against the wall. He forgot to breath at Minami held him against the wall using his body.

"Have you ever even had a girlfriend?"

The question, whispered in his ear as Minami pressed closer caught Sengoku so off-guard he actually thought about his answer.

"You've dated plenty of girls, but never had a girlfriend." Minami leaned back smirk at him. "I don't think you want a girlfriend."

"Then why am I dating?" Sengoku said, struggling slightly.

"I don't know, you tell me. You like Momoshiro-kun though." Minami grabbed the hand Sengoku was trying to push him with and pinned it against the wall.
"He's a friend." Sengoku tugged at his wrist.

"I think you like how strong he is."

Sengoku stopped struggling and stared at Minami. "What do you mean…" The clubhouse suddenly felt like it never had a/c.

"You know, I'm stronger than I look." Minami smiled and leaned forward to kiss him.

At first he couldn't move, too surprised to do more than feel a kiss that was harder and more aggressive than he would have expected from Minami. A flush of heat and a second kiss followed, Minami's tongue tracing along his lips, teeth nipping to get a response and Sengoku couldn't help comparing them to kisses from girls. Soft little touches that were weak and undemanding, wet bumps that never interested or excited him. No girl had ever kissed him first or kissed him so hard it almost hurt and he could feel his lips swelling and liked it. No girl had ever licked his mouth or bitten his lips or made him feel like he needed to kiss back. And he was kissing back when Minami pulled away, leaving him feeling dazed and warm low in his stomach.

"I know what you really want." He said.

Minami kissed him again, intense and bruising and better than any girl. Sengoku opened his mouth this time when he felt the touch of tongue against his lips and Minami didn't hesitate to kiss deeper and demand more. Sengoku opened his mouth wider and moaned a little as their mouths slipped, his tongue sliding across Minami's upper lip wetly, messy and eager. Sengoku shifted as the warmth spread, making him breathless and hot and his jeans feel tight. Minami finally let the wrist he held go to pull Sengoku closer and dig fingers into his carefully styled hair. He made a pleased noise as a hand slid around his neck, the other gripping his hip as they ground together, he could feel Minami hard against him and moaned. He gasped as he was nearly lifted off his feet and Minami laughed breathlessly, dropping kisses along his neck. Wrapping an arm around Minami's neck, Sengoku tugged him into another kiss, fighting for control. He quickly lost it when Minami's hand fell from his hip to cup his butt and lift.

Minami fit himself between his legs and just held him against the wall, a hand still on his ass, mouth still pressed against Sengoku's who couldn't do more than breathe. A breath turned into a whine as teeth closed over his bottom lip and pulled. His lips parted and the kisses began again, quick, hard, and hotter than the courts outside. Sengoku wrapped his arms around Minami's back, fingers digging in to feel the muscles, a leg bending to press them tighter.

"What do you want?" Minami panted between kisses.

"This…" Sengoku panted and pressed they're erections together.

The door to the clubroom opened so fast Sengoku could feel the rush of air from outside, it almost felt cool against his skin.

"Hey Minami, I know you wanted to wait for Sengoku, but-"

Whatever Higashikata had been about to say was cut off with a garbled choke. Sengoku was past caring and he whined when Minami stopped to look back at his doubles partner.

"I'll be out in just a minute." He smirked and his partner only nodded with an averted gaze and quickly ran out of the room.

Sengoku felt Minami lower him carefully, making sure he was steady before letting go as he came back to himself. Before the panic set in a gentle kiss calmed him.

"Hey," Minami's hand found his and he leaned their forehead's together so their eyes met. "Stick around after practice and we can talk, okay?"

Sengoku stared at the sincerity in kind brown eyes and felt himself nod. He wasn't ok; it wasn't ok, not really. But maybe it would be.

"Good." Minami smiled. "Now I've held practice long enough for you so you'd better change and get out there or you'll have extra laps."

"I can't run like this!" Sengoku gasped.

"Then change quick." Minami called back as he headed out to the courts before Sengoku.

Sengoku stood still a moment, still shocked at the rapid shift before remembering how serious Minami could get as a captain and scrambling for his tennis uniform. While he was tugging on his shoes his cell, dropped completely forgotten to the floor, chimed. He picked it up and checked the message out of habit.

Mami-chan: Where are you? ;_;

Sengoku stood a minute, staring down at the message before biting his lip and typing out a quick reply.

Sengoku: Sorry, I think I found someone I really want.

He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the send button.

"Sengoku you've got 30 laps around the grounds!" The shout carried easily through the thin club walls from outside.

He closed his eyes with a groan; girls were easier. He hit send. Minami was more exciting.

Cool Off, Kat!

senshixdoukeshi — Thu, 18 Sep 2008 03:05:32 GMT

Recipient: kat8cha
Title: Sugar Sweet
Characters: Chitose Senri, Chitose Miyuki
Rating: G
Summary: Senri has the perfect solution to boredom on a hot summer’s day.
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis is owned and usually operated by Konomi, I'm hijacking for joyrides and make no money from this.
Notes: Lots of thanks to the mystery beta. I apologize for the length, the original was lost!

It was the hottest day in Osaka on record. The radio announcers assured its listeners of that fact, the meteorologist’s report confirmed that fact, and for the umpteenth time that day, Miyuki wished that she could be at the beach with her school friends.

Or at least somewhere with an air conditioner.

Instead, she was forced into what Senri called “sibling bonding day,” which mostly consisted of Senri’s commentary on the state of the world, Japan, and other things that a kid simply wasn’t interested in. Much to Miyuki’s chagrin, their mother heartily approved of the idea and left for the day, promising to be back sometime that evening after doing her shopping.

Miyuki had never felt any ill will towards her parents before. That suddenly changed.

“It’s all important,” Senri decided to start off with. “Understanding the many ways that things work together is the basis of understanding the universe. Take, for instance, a drop of water. When it falls, it-“

“Can you stoooop already?” Miyuki whined. “Why can’t we do something?” She hated having to be a little kid and doing what her brother told her to. Why were they spending the day inside when they could be at the beach, or playing tennis (Miyuki had perfected a killer serve, there was no way she couldn’t beat Senri now!)

Senri paused from his study of the window. “We have a very long list of chores, if you’re interested. They’re in the kitchen.”

Miyuki didn’t even budge from the floor. Being bored was bad, but doing chores was even worse. That was even more boring than being bored! Why couldn’t they have a television, like any normal family, anyway?

She kicked at the tatami flooring with her bare toe. “Boooored.”

“You wouldn’t be bored if you were working, y’know.” Senri stood up suddenly. “Come on. They won’t take that long anyway.”

The shaggy-haired boy was halfway down the stairs before realizing that his sister wasn’t behind him. “Miyuki, are you coming?”

He could hear the telltale sigh and rustling in his bedroom that meant Miyuki was prying herself up from the floor. The loud stomping down the hallway confirmed that while she was coming, she was not indeed happy about it.

Senri sighed and finally did the thing that he swore he would never do.

He resorted to bribery.

“The first chore on the list is ice cream.”

The thumping became louder and quicker, and soon it was Miyuki calling up to him to come down and go to the grocery with her.

Well, perhaps bribery wasn’t that bad after all. Senri took his time getting downstairs, and Miyuki was already standing in the foyer with her shoes on.

“You’re slow,” she greeted him when he arrived.

“We’re not going anywhere.” Senri held up the list.

“We’re not? But you just said that Mom said we had to go get some!” Miyuki looked as though all of her hopes and dreams had been crushed. “Did you just lie to me? Big brothers aren’t supposed to lie!”

Well no, that wasn’t true. Miyuki’s best friend’s big brother lied and teased her. But Senri had never done that, so why would he start now? But Senri was weird. She stepped out of her shoes and traipsed back into the kitchen, with what was becoming a good mood quickly souring.

Senri showed her the hastily written list of chores. “Here. What does it say?”

Miyuki studied the items carefully. “Make ice cream? But we’ve never made ice cream before.”

“You were too young to remember it.” Senri paused long enough to rumple Miyuki’s hair and cause her to stick her tongue out at him. She hated that. “It’s going to be fun.”

“Can’t we just play tennis?” Miyuki asked, for the thousandth time that day. And for the thousandth time, Senri pretended not to hear her and rummaged into the refrigerator instead.

“Cream, ice, milk…hey, Miyuki. What flavor do you want?”

Miyuki did her best not to sound the least bit interested. Why were they making it when they could have gotten to the store and back in twenty minutes? “Don’t care.”

“Right, so that makes it chocolate.” Senri added chocolate syrup to the growing list of ingredients. “Come here and help.”

Miyuki pouted her way to the kitchen and stared at the odd assortment of ingredients on the counter. “Why do we need tofu?”

“Tofu ice cream’s good,” Senri insisted and plunked the block on the counter. In Miyuki’s eyes, her brother was simply growing weirder and weirder. Unfortunately, her mental telepathy wasn’t strong enough yet to make her mother walk in at that moment and demand Senri to stop.

Instead, she begrudgingly poured ingredients into a bowl while Senri mixed ice and salt (why anyone wanted salt in their ice cream, she had no idea.) She busily mixed, not caring that specks of cream and chocolate were flying around the kitchen.

Just as she started to mix the biggest glob yet, Senri poked his head in. “Are you through mixing yet, or-“

The glob hit him smack in the nose.

Senri did not have any time to register shock before Miyuki started to giggle uncontrollably. Seeing her normally serene brother stand there, unable to react, was far too much fun.

Senri cautiously wiped part of the goo off his nose, then snickered and dropped it onto Miyuki’s. Instead of being upset, Miyuki’s giggling only increased. If someone were to walk into the kitchen at that moment, they most likely would have thought that the siblings were in need of mental help because of their hysterics.

Miyuki was the first one to calm down enough to breathe and try the concoction-which didn’t taste bad, for cream and sugar and chocolate syrup, but not at all like ice cream.

“Here.” Senri helped her carry the heavy bowl outside to the mixer, already set up and waiting for the main ingredients. “It’s kind of hard to churn.”

“I can do it!” Miyuki was insistent. She may have been small, but she was strong. She wrapped her hands around the churn and started cranking with all of her might, and found it to be relatively easy. She looked up at Senri, questioning, until the churn suddenly got stuck, She grunted and gave it a firm tug, and just barely moved the handle.

Senri wrapped his hands over hers and helped crank it, not pushing her to the side and talking about how strong he was like the other girls with big brothers Miyuki knew. Senri was letting Miyuki do the work herself!

Well, with maybe just a little help. Just the way it had always been. Senri would make her do her work and practice until she was frustrated and ready to quit, but he was always there when she needed that little extra push-even if she wanted to smack that little grin off of his face and tell him to stop being so smug about everything.

Senri quickly cracked the lid of the container. “I think we’ve got ourselves some ice cream. Just needs to be frozen for a little while and then we can have it.”

Miyuki didn’t even realize that it had finally started to grow cooler.

Two hours later, brother and sister were sitting on the front stoop, enjoying the silence and the fresh, homemade ice cream. It was still hot and muggy, but nowhere near the temperatures of that afternoon. Miyuki idly sucked stray ice cream off of her thumb and stared into the quickly fading sunset. She could hear the crickets starting to chirp and off in the distance, a dog barking.

For the first time in as long as she could remember, Osaka was actually quiet.

“So when did we make ice cream?” Miyuki finally decided to ask.

“Today,” Senri replied simply, closing his eyes and savoring what was left in his bowl.

“Not that. I mean the first time that we did it.”

“Today,” he repeated. “The first time that we did it was today.”

Miyuki was shocked. “But…but what about how you told me that we had made ice cream before and I was just too young to remember it? Were you lying?”

Senri chuckled. “No. I made some with our parents. You were a baby.”

“Oh.” Miyuki was satisfied with the answer and chased the last remaining bit before it melted into a chocolate puddle. “So why did we do it?”

That time, Senri took his time to respond. He closed his eyes and leaned back, and for a minute Miyuki thought he was going to meditate and leave her hanging until she got frustrated enough to go back inside. “It tastes better.”

Miyuki didn’t quite understand yet. She preferred her absolute favorite chocolate chip ice cream from the local convenience store over the vaguely chocolate flavored concoction that they had managed to whip up.

But when she thought about it, and the work that they put into it, and how she was going to have a way cooler summer vacation story than all of her friends…

“Yeah. You’re right.”

Cool off, Katherine!

solanum_d — Tue, 16 Sep 2008 19:19:45 GMT

Recipient: kyaatoti
Title: Summer Time
Pairing: Kirihara Akaya / Marui Bunta
Rating: NC-17; not worksafe
Note: So… hopefully this was as much in character as possible, and I hope you enjoy it!

“Temperatures continue to rise into the high 100’s as we move into the weekend, making it one of the hottest summers Tokyo has seen in recent-”

Kirihara turned off the TV before the weatherman could finish and let out a groan. “Awesome timing for your air conditioner to kick the bucket Marui-senpai,” he complained as he turned his head towards the kitchen.

“Then why aren’t you at YOUR apartment?” Marui retorted, the sound of the refrigerator door closing and footsteps heading closer.

“Uh… mine’s broken too?” Kirihara said with a sheepish grin on his face.

Marui rolled his eyes. “Figured as much.” He plopped down on the couch beside him. “Anyway, I have someone coming over to fix it later, so quit your whining.”

“Sorry Senpai…” Kirahara said, flushing slightly at being reprimanded.

The cherry haired man smiled slightly. “Don’t worry about it, and stop calling me Senpai. We ARE in college now you know. Here.” Marui tossed something at him.

Kirahara caught it and looked at him, blinking. “A popsicle?”

“You were complaining about being hot, weren’t you?” Marui started unwrapping his. “It’s the best I’ve got until the repairman gets here.”

“Right… Thank you Sen- I mean, Marui,” Kirihara quickly corrected himself after seeing the look the other gave him warningly. He then unwrapped his Popsicle and started to suck on the orange flavored treat.

Marui rolled his eyes before beginning on his own ice pop. It was amazing, after so many years of knowing each other, the younger boy STILL called him Senpai…

“Hey, Akaya. Answer me something.” Marui waited until the other nodded Why DO you still call me Senpai?”

Kirihara looked thoughtful for a moment before pulling the Popsicle out with a ‘pop.’ “Because my Mom told me to always be polite to my senpais growing up… though I guess I never really did listen to her on that,” he added with a rueful smile, before putting the Popsicle back into his mouth.

Marui laughed. “I’d say. I can’t remember how many times Sanada would smack you when… uh…” Marui lost his train of thought as he watched Kirihara slide his tongue along the orange Popsicle to keep it from dripping, but for some strange reason the way he was twirling his tongue around it to catch the drops made it one of the most erotic things Marui had ever seen.

Kirihara blinked and lifted his eyes to Marui, sliding the icy treat from between his wet lips. “When I what senpai?” He had no idea why Marui was staring at him like that, but… he had to admit that he looked awfully pretty with that blush on his cheeks.

Marui swallowed hard as he struggled to calm himself down. No way in hell was he going to be thinking about this NOW! “I… thought I said… to stop calling me Senpai…” he managed to get out, putting his cherry Popsicle back into his mouth to get his mind onto something else.

Sure, he’d admit that he had always thought of Kirihara in ways that were indecent… even have fantasies about the boys in certain positions as he jerked off on occasion… but he wasn’t going to think about it now… not when he was sitting right NEXT to him….

Kirihara shrugged and went back to his Popsicle, dragging his tongue along the treat. "I'm sorry.. I've been calling you that for years.. Marui." He grinned and gave the red head a wink. He thought Marui was lovely right now with the flush and slight sweat making the edges of his hair stick to his face. It made Akaya want him even more.

Pulling his thoughts away from how much better Marui would look beneath him, moaning and panting, Kirihara concentrated on the luscious ice in his mouth, sucking and licking happily.

Marui swallowed slightly, watching the younger man. Was Kirihara… teasing him? He quickly shook his head, looking away. No… that couldn’t be right… Kirihara was probably straight as a rod… was he? Marui took another quick peek at the other.

Kirihara caught the glance and smiled at his senpai. He sucked the Popsicle slowly, letting it go with a wet 'plop'. “Everything okay Sen..Marui? Your looking hot. Bothered. Can I do something to help?”

He was teasing Marui. But, if that blush thought what he meant it did, Kirihara was ready to take the chance.

“Uh…” Marui swallowed again, hard. He quickly tried brushed wet strands of hair away from his face, but it stubbornly stuck. “Of course I’m hot, Akaya. It’s over 100 degrees outside,” he said, laughing uneasily. He didn’t even notice that his Popsicle had started to melt and slide down his hand.

Akaya smirked and took Marui's wrist. He gave the other man a wicked look and brought the cherry popsicle up to his mouth, sucking it. “Look at you... making a mess..”

Kirihara swirled his tongue along the messy popsicle, sliding down over Marui's hand, lapping at the red trails. “Umm... Tastes good..”

Marui’s breathing hitched slightly, watching Akaya with wide eyes. Was this… really happening? He shifted slightly, realizing with alarm that he was quickly growing hard underneath his shorts.

“I… should clean up… before I make anymore of a mess…” he said weakly, knowing full well he should get up and do just that, before he really DID make a mess in his shorts, but couldn’t seem to move as he continued to watch Akaya, who had taking the cherry Popsicle away and was running his tongue around his fingers, cleaning them thoroughly.

Kirihara sucked the fingers one by one. Hard and aching, he slid Marui's fingers free from his mouth. He glanced at his senpai with lust covered eyes. “You taste good Bunta... so very good…”

Marui felt his cock twitch as the other looked at him. Deep in his lust filled green eyes… he could see a hint of red appearing. “Shit…” he whispered, his heart racing. “Akaya…”

Kirihara growled softly, lips trailing up along Marui's inner arm. “What's wrong… Bunta?”

“It’s the heat… it’s got to be…” Marui gasped, shivering at the touch. “This wouldn’t be happening otherwise…”

“Are you sure? Why not?” Kirihara shifted closer, kissing up Marui's neck now. He dropped his voice and whispered in his ear. "Don't you want me Senpai?"

“It’s not that…” Marui whimpered slightly when Kirihara nipped his ear slightly. He slid his fingers through his thick wavy hair so he couldn‘t pull away. “Why did it take us until NOW dammit?”

“Because... I was dumb…” He smiled a cheeky grin, fingers wrapping around the back of Marui's neck. “I've always wanted you senpai.”

Without warning, Marui slid into Kirihara’s lap, letting out a frustrated sound. “Will you stop calling me senpai damn it?” he complained before nipping his chin. “I hate it…”

Kirihara groaned and slid his hands down to cup Marui's hips. He flicked his tongue over Bunta's lips. “I'll make it up to you…”

Kirihara took Marui's mouth in a heated kiss, groaning at the longed for taste of him.

Marui let out a excited sound as he kissed him back, letting Kirihara slid his tongue into his mouth, and tasting the faint flavor of orange as the other teased his tongue. “Mmm…” he said, giving the tongue a soft suck.

Kirihara shuddered and slid his arms around Marui's back. Tilting his head to the side he moaned, Marui's taste and texture blowing his mind. Akaya slid his fingers up Marui's back, exploring his skin.

Marui suddenly felt too hot in his thin t-shirt and shorts. “Take… take them off…” he panted, already reaching down to do so. “Too hot…”

Akaya shuddered and runs his hands down to cup Marui's ass. he stood, holding on to the redhead. “Bedroom..?”

Marui nodded, not really caring WHERE at this point, just wanting to get his clothes off now. “End… end of the hall on the right,” he said, licking up the side of his neck, tasting the lightly salted sweat that was coming from the other.

Kirihara groaned and carried Marui down the hall. His entire body was taut and aching, begging him to just take Marui NOW. But, he refused to hurt his senpai.

Kicking open the door, Kirihara stepped inside and slid Marui down with a hot kiss. “Your so hot... I want you.. so much.” Kirihara reached down to push Marui's pants off his hips.

Marui groaned as he let Kirihara undress him, feeling the clothes peel off his skin due to the heat. “Akaya…” he said, kissing him back hungrily.

Kirihara took his time, kissing and exploring every inch of Marui's body. He had been dreaming of this moment since the day he hit puberty. Kirihara slid his hand down to cup Marui's erection, exploring him slowly. “Bunta..”

Marui let out a surprised cry of pleasure, bucking into the hot hand. “Oh god…” he groaned, gripping Kirihara’s shoulders so he wouldn’t fall over. “That feels so…”

He let Marui go, pushing the smaller man back onto the bed. “I want you.. so much..” Giving him a hot, hungry look, Kirihara strips his own clothing off. He slid onto the bed over Marui, giving him another deep languid kiss.

Marui let out a low groan, his lavender eyes half closed, but the hunger in them was obvious. Rocking upwards, he rubbed their erections together slowly. “Mmm…”

Kirihara let out low growl of pleasure as he rocked back with him., the friction against their cocks making him harder and more excited. “Bunta… I don’t think I… can hold back…” he got out, trying to pull away, but Marui quickly stopped him.

“Then don’t,” he breathed softly, pulling his mouth down to his and kissed him hungrily. “Don’t hold back Akaya…”

Kirihara growled and kissed him back, quickly moving over him. “Do you have…”

Without breaking the kiss, Marui reached up and under his pillow, pulling out a tube of lube that was almost empty. When Kirihara gave him a raised eyebrow, he blushed. “I… jerk off a lot…” he mumbled.

Kirihara smirked slightly at that. “About me?” he purred, plucking the tube from Marui's hand. He watched the redhead with a wicked grin, pouring the gel in his hand. “Are you sure you want me?”

Marui swallowed hard, nervous, not sure how rough the other man was going to be, but nodded. “I want you… so badly… Give it to me, Akaya…”

Kirihara laid himself over Marui's body, slick fingers running down to tease over his cock and down to rub over his pucker. “I will Bunta.. I want you too.”

Marui closed his eyes and groaned softly, his pucker twitching before relaxing for the other. “Akaya…”

Kirihara slid his first finger into him slowly, kissing Marui passionately. “So tight Bunta... You feel and taste so good…”

Marui jerked slightly at the pressure, but groaned loudly in pleasure. “Akaya!” he gasped, jerking up against him, hair stuck to his face, sweat rolling off his body from both the heat and Kirihara. “Need you… so bad…”

He groaned and kissed the other boy hungrily. “I don't want to hurt you..” He could barely look at Marui. He was so beautiful, so sexy. The sight of Marui was making him ache, making him harder, making him want to drive himself inside the other boy and lose himself.

“Damn it, listen to your Senpai, Kirihara!” Marui clenched his ass tightly around his fingers, rocking upwards, groaning in need. “Fuck me!”

Akaya groaned and slid his fingers out of Marui. His hands lid down to cup his ass, lifting him up at a steep angle. “Your mine now Senpai... All mine.” He whispered huskily, thrusting deep inside him, claiming him with a harsh kiss.

Marui cried out as Akaya filled him, his back arching off the bed, fingers tangling in the sheets. “Akaya!” he gasped, clenching tightly around him.

Kirihara kissed him, sliding his fingers over Marui's, threading their fingers together. “Bunta... Look at me..” Kirihara shivered and began to move, thrusting in and out of his tight, welcoming heat.

Marui opened his lavender eyes, panting softly in pleasure as he rocked back against him. “Akaya…” he panted, squeezing his hands tightly, his legs wrapping around his sweaty waist, clenching around him over and over. “Akaya…”

Kirihara dove into those amethyst depths and lost himself. His eyes dark with passion and need as he drove into the other's body over and over. Akaya groaned with the pressure building within him. “Your so beautiful… I want to give you pleasure…”

Marui moaned in pleasure, his head falling back. “Oh god… You don’t know… how much I’ve wanted you… I‘ve wanted this for so long…”

Kirihara groaned, pressing in deep and hard. His worshipped Marui's neck with his mouth. “I've wanted this too... so very much.”

Marui grabbed the back of his neck so to hold him there, panting hard. “Fuck… I’m getting close…”

He groaned and picked up the pace, his hips snapping forward. He buried himself into Marui over and over, shifting to rub against the special spot. “Me too.. I want to feel it... together..” Kirihara kissed Marui with everything he had, his desire and emotions flowing through the kiss.

Marui bucked and moaned against his mouth as he came, clenching around him tightly. “A…kaya…” he gasped, gripping the one hand he was still holding, eyes wide in pleasure.

Akaya thrust in a final time, meeting his peak with Marui. He drank in the groan and answered it with his own as he filled him. “Bunta…”

Bunta’s back arched a final time before falling back on the bed, breathing heavily, his body flushed from both the heat, and from the unbelievable sex he had just had.

Kirihara kissed Marui deeply, laying over him, their bodies pressed flush together. “Bunta… Does this mean we can date now?”

Marui looked at the worried look on Kirihara’s face before letting out a soft laugh before kissing him back. “As long as we can beat the heat like this all the time, I’m all yours.”

Cool Off, Rachel!

senshixdoukeshi — Mon, 15 Sep 2008 15:44:31 GMT

Recipient: crazy_marik
Title: Passing Fascination
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi, Konami, Viz, and some other people. I make no profits and write solely for my amusement and that of my readers.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: slight m/m, teenage awkwardness, mild vulgarity
Pairing/Characters: Jackal Kuwahara/Marui Bunta; mentions of others from Rikkai
A/N: I try to avoid using Japanese in my fiction. However, it's common in Japan to call the parents of a close friend aunt and uncle. I've done that here with both the Japanese and Portuguese.
Many thanks, as always, to my beta. You're always wonderful. *kisses*
crazy_marik, I really had a great time writing this and I hope that I was able to capture everything that you love about these guys.

Passing Fascination

Embarrassing is probably the most vile word for an adolescent... closely followed by awkward. For Marui Bunta, the two decided to have an unfortunate meet and greet during his third year of junior high. Of course he'd experienced embarrassment and awkwardness before. But not like that. Not with the tennis team. Sure, they were the guys he spent the most time with; which in turn meant that they mattered the most. What truly made this embarrassing, awkward moment with his teammates unbearable was that it had been life-changing... or at the very least perspective-skewing.

Things couldn't have been more normal. He met Jackal in the hall after class, and they walked to the clubhouse together. The conversation was mundane in an utterly forgettable way. They worked up a sweat just walking between buildings with the hot summer air sweltering around them. Possibly they'd even discussed the weather, if even just to complain about it - beyond boring conversation. The clubhouse had the vaguely cheesy musk of adolescent sweat that it always did. Sanada stood near the door with Renji as they reviewed the regimen for that day's practice. Niou was talking lowly to Yagyuu; lips moving but voice unheard by anyone but his doubles partner. Kirihara was nowhere to be seen... yet; likely, he was going to be late, as usual. Status quo as far as lavender contacts could see. Why that day? Marui had no idea. But as he sat on the bench in front of his locker preparing to change into his tennis uniform, he just happened to glance up. It was a glance that became a look, then bordered dangerously on a stare. The crisp white of Jackal's school uniform shirt fell in sharp contrast to the deep brown of his skin as he slid it off. Muscles rippled along the smooth expanse of Jackal's back as he carefully folded the oxford and placed it in his locker. Marui managed to tear his eyes away from the ludicrously innocuous task quick enough to process a very distressing occurrence... an occurrence in his finely tailored uniform slacks. Not only had he openly ogled his doubles partner - long enough for anyone to have noticed - but his body had elected to get a hard-on about it... in the clubhouse full of guys. Not even a genius could process the chain of events, contemplate the implications, and think of a clever cover in that sudden a shock. He just sat, staring at the metal grates on his locker, leaning but trying not to hunch over the tent in his pants. He wished he could pull his backpack into his lap without it looking pathetically contrived. And he wasn't sure whether he was more disturbed by sporting lumber in the clubhouse or that he'd been staring at his partner when it had happened. He closed his eyes and willed it to pass, knowing full-well that it never worked. He'd been rubbed the right way by his underwear enough times to know that. He heard locker doors slamming, voices fading as players headed out to the courts for the beginning of practice, the sound of Kirihara's feet pounding across the floor as he hurried to catch up. Meanwhile, Marui sat - still in his school clothes - knowing he was blushing and unsure how his blood could be so active in two places at once. He chalked it up to being a genius and then wished for some kind of minor meteor event or small nuclear apocalypse that could distract everyone long enough for him to escape.

No such luck. His vice-captain was way too uptight, and his partner was way too considerate for Marui to have any kind of mercy that day. The sharp bark of his name startled him, but did nothing to diminish the problem in his pants, though he'd been sure that if anything could make an erection wilt it would be Sanada. He was trying to get his tongue to work - since it had suddenly become as soft as his dick was hard - when he felt a big, warm hand on his shoulder. He knew that hand. He knew that touch. It was horrible because it was strong and gentle, and he felt his erection jerk in his pants. "I think he might be overheated," Jackal's quiet voice carried through the rapidly emptying clubhouse, steady and protective. Marui finally opened his eyes to try to form some kind of fabrication because Jackal had just inadvertently given him the greatest excuse ever, but he saw Kirihara staring at him with his mouth hanging open... or more precisely, staring at his crotch. Discretion and dignity took a vacation at this discovery, and Marui's fight or flight response told him escape was the only option. Face a pink to clash with his dyed-hair, he grabbed his backpack, using it to the best of his abilities to shield himself, and ran for the door. Maybe it was because he had the element of surprise on his side, but no one tried to stop him, and he didn't stop until he was safely in his bedroom where he could privately die of humiliation.

The warm orange brightness of late afternoon crept between Marui's slowly opening eyelids. That dream again. He was thoroughly sick of reliving that day. Sand slipped off of his calves as he sat up. How the hell did that get there? Probably Kirihara thinking that he'd developed an excellent sense of humor. His mouth was dry; he hoped he hadn't fallen asleep with it hanging open. How tacky. His nose felt a little warm - the first hints of sunburn. Great. Jackal'd probably never had a sunburn. Marui's cheeks puffed out with an exhale that was one part frustration, two parts jealousy, and a final bit that he didn't like to think about very much, but had become increasingly comfortable with as the years passed. He dusted the rest of the sand from his legs. Fortunately, the little devil - or not-so-little since his latest growth spurt - had realized it would be in very poor taste to bury the parts of Marui that were on his blanket. Though, he probably had Yanagi to thank for that small blessing. The rest of the blankets and towels were gone, oddly smoothed sand the only indication that they'd ever been there. The remnants of smashed watermelon and rind littered the sand near his feet. He'd fallen asleep after gorging himself. His hands were still sticky. He rubbed them on the blanket absently. Had everyone gone and left him to roast in the sun? A glance behind found the Jackal family cooler still sitting on the corner of his blanket, condensation dripping down its sides to a dark wet outline on the fabric. Jackal had stayed with him. Some part of Marui clenched inside and he turned back in the direction of the water.

There he was, standing in the surf. Even from the distance Marui could see the tiny droplets of water clinging to Jackal's back - the same back that had once been the origin of such awkwardness. Back then, he'd have blamed the warm feeling gathering in his stomach on overheating and dehydration, residual bleariness from his nap, or hunger. Now, he knew better... though there was probably a bit of truth to all of the above. He was content to just watch the way Jackal moved in the water, diving into waves, letting them crash into his body. He looked powerful and beautiful; Marui could watch him for hours.

He'd thought it was a phase - a fascination brought on by puberty and propinquity. It was normal to get embarrassing and untimely hard-ons in middle school. It was even normal to have sexual thoughts about a close friend. He'd read that somewhere once. He figured he'd grow out of it in a month or by the end of the year. Then they'd had their first day at Rikkai Dai Fuzokukou, and Jackal had walked into their class - they'd never been in the same class before. He'd looked good in their new blazer uniforms, different than the ones they'd worn in middle school. Marui remembered feeling his heart crawl up into his throat, making a casual "long time no see" impossible. Jackal had spent most of the summer in Brazil visiting his family. It had been Marui's first summer without his doubles partner since their first year of middle school. He'd thought that maybe the time apart would be good - help him get over the strange crush of sorts. An "out of sight, out of mind" experience. It had been a lonely and boring summer. And he really wasn't prepared for how good it was going to be to see Jackal again. Jackal sat down next to him and said, easy as can be, "Hey. I missed you this summer." It made Marui's stomach ache. He'd smiled and said, as lightly as possible, "Absence makes the heart grow fonder." Then he'd watched Jackal laugh, wanted to cry, and knew that it wasn't a passing attraction.

It had been two years since then. They returned for another term of their final year of high school in two days. Marui wasn't in any hurry to leave the beach or Jackal. He sat. He watched. He waited. He didn't know how much time he was allowed to just soak up the moment. Eventually, Jackal saw that he was awake and jogged up the beach to meet him. "Hey."

"Hey."

"Good nap?"

"I think I got a sunburn."

"Oh. I didn't think about that. I should've covered you or something."

"You didn't need to do anything like that." Marui wondered if he was blushing and was suddenly glad of any sunburn he might have. "I'm gonna have freckles." He quickly reached for a shirt and yanked it over his head.

Jackal grabbed his towel off the blanket and dried his body in quick swipes. "I like your freckles."

"They're dorky."

Jackal shrugged and turned to look at the water, towel draped around his shoulders. The sun was setting behind them, gleaming off of the bronze skin of Jackal's back. "Are you ready for summer to end?"

"Not really. I'm not even ready for today to end."

"Wanna stay at my place tonight?"

"Yeah. I'll call home when we get there and let my parents know." They spent time at each other's houses so often that their parents typically assumed if they weren't home they were with one another. Still, they always made the call. It was courtesy or good upbringing or a desire to always have the privilege of staying over together. "Help me shake out this blanket." Sand clung to the underside of the fabric as they each took opposing corners, falling with each vigorous shake to catch on Jackal's moist calves or be flung by the wind against Marui's face and chest - an unfair trick of weather and physics. Marui took the blanket once they'd folded it and shouldered his bag. "What are your parents making for dinner?"

Jackal pulled on a tee-shirt and picked up the cooler. "I think that you just come to my house to eat."

"Not just to eat." They shared an easy smile at an old joke, heading off the beach and onto the wooden walkway that lead to the road. Little trails of sand followed them as it was knocked out of their flip-flops. They walked up the street to the train station with the warm coastal breeze blowing against their faces and the glow of the sunset slowly fading. It would've been a great scene in a shoujo manga, Marui thought with a mental chuckle.

The plastic seat on the train was cold against the backs of Marui's thighs and he ignored Jackal's frown when he propped his feet on the cooler. The train ride was generally smooth, as always, but he made sure to sit as relaxed as possible, so any small jostle would shift him to brush against Jackal. It was pretty cheap and pathetic, but he'd take what he could get when he could get it.

"I don't know."

"That's not too unusual, but what exactly don't you know this time."

"What my parents prepared for dinner."

He said it so sincerely. Marui laughed. "I'd forgotten I'd even asked. I just always assume it's going to be good."

"Well, I'd never answered your question... and I know that food is important to you... so..."

No one would ever care about him quite like Jackal, and that was more than enough. "It's okay, Jackal. Don't look so awkward."

"Your hair is awkward."

"Your lack of hair is awkward."

"No. My hair is awkward."

"You win." Marui'd seen pictures, and that was some crazy hair. Promise to a coach or no, Marui could see why he wouldn't want to grow it back in. Besides, the bald was kind of sexy. Not that he was going to be telling that little detail to his doubles partner any time soon.

When they stepped off the train at Jackal's stop, Marui noticed an oddly cool gust of wind and only had a moment to dread what he knew what was coming next. The rain came in such a heavy and sudden sheet that the sky seemed to have just opened up. It was cold. He bit back on the screech that wanted to work its way out and looked up at Jackal through sopping bangs. "Run," he heard above the roar of the train pulling away. He nodded, and they both gripped their cargo a little more firmly and took off up the street to Jackal's home. It wasn't too far, but by the time they got into the foyer, they were dripping steadily. Jackal's shirt clung to every inch of skin. He may as well not have been wearing one, but he was oddly more interesting with the shirt. "I look like a drowned pink lab rat."

"Only a little."

Marui would have smacked Jackal with the sodden blanket in his arms, except that he knew it would spray everything in the vicinity with water and he felt bad enough for dripping all over the Jackals' floor.

"Mom." Jackal had the quietest shout that Marui'd ever heard... except when he was serving. Somehow his mother heard him anyway.

She came out of her office looking the part of the scholar that she was - glasses, hair messy and pulled back, one of her husband's shirts and a pair of faded slacks. She was a professor of humanities at a nearby university. Her specialization was in Latin American cultures. Jackal's parents had met while she was doing graduate studies in Brazil. They'd been separated briefly while Mayumi returned to Japan to finish her doctorate, but she quickly went back Brazil and Thiago. Marui thought it was a great story. He especially loved hearing Jackal's parents tell it in the strange combination of Japanese and Portuguese that marked all of the conversation in the household.

"You're dripping on the floor, Kuwahara," she raised an eyebrow disapprovingly. She was five foot two inches and could cow her gigantic son with a single look. "Thia, we need some towels in here."

"Just one moment." The call came from the kitchen, where Marui could smell spice rubbed pork roasting. It made his stomach growl loudly enough to cut through the tension.

"Ah. Marui. You must be hungry. We'll get you a towel so you can dry off," she smiled warmly at him.

"Thanks. It's good to see you again, obachan."

"You know you're always welcome. Will you be staying over?"

"Yes, if it's alright."

"Absolutely. Just don't forget to call your parents."

"Of course."

At this point, Jackal's dad came in wearing an apron and handing off towels. He was as big, dark and seemingly imposing as his son and twice as gentle. His Japanese was broken, interspersed with random Portuguese, and heavily accented. Marui loved it. "Thanks, Tio."

"Go. Clean up." He took the wet blanket from Marui and turned back to the kitchen. Marui found himself being dragged up the stairs by his doubles partner.

"They never get mad at you."

"Just be glad I'm here to smooth over the situation with my calming presence."

"Calming?"

"Charismatic then. Now drag me faster or let me walk. I want to eat."

****

"Ugh. I'm stuffed." Marui flopped onto Jackal's bed. It was an appropriately huge bed. He remembered when Jackal started to grow out of his old bed from middle school. He was some huge height these days that totally negated any growing - two meager inches - that Marui had done.

"If you're stuffed I suppose you don't have any room for this." Jackal pulled a shiny box out of his closet. Marui recognized it immediately. Occasionally, Jackal's cousin would send him things from Brazil, including yummy chocolates. Jackal didn't have much of a sweet tooth, but he liked these because they were filled with liqueur.

"NO. I've got room. I have a second stomach for desserts. You know that."

Jackal's laugh easily echoed through the entire house, even though his door was shut. He joined Marui on the bed, flopping less and leaning against the headboard. He offered the box to Marui first, who took his time picking exactly the right chocolate. Food choice was important. The dark chocolate was smooth and the orange liqueur complimented it perfectly. Marui laid down, chewing slowly and letting all of the flavors wash over his mouth. He looked around the very familiar room. He'd spent as much time here as he had in his own since middle school. It was a really normal room. A couple of posters: tennis; soccer; a band from Brazil, Placebo. The weird thing was the lack of posters with scantily clad women... not that Marui had any. That would be fronting and Marui didn't front. Sure, he still thought girls were good-looking, but they couldn't compete with Jackal. "Are you still thinking about returning to Brazil for university?"

"Mm..." the thoughtful sound came deep from Jackal's chest, "I am. I'm still not sure."

"You'd stay with that cousin that sends you these chocolates, right?" He took another for emphasis.

"Yeah. She said I could."

"I can't believe you intend to leave me." Marui rolled onto his stomach, not quite face-down. There was no way he was going to let Jackal see how much that actually bothered him.

"You were leaving me first."

"What?"

"You decided not to continue at Rikkai, remember? You said you were going to go to some prestigious school I can't remember the name of right now."

"TeiOh. And I said I might go there. I'm a genius, after all. I want to go to a good school. And anyway, that's not leaving you. We'd still be living near each other."

"We wouldn't be able to play tennis together."

"True."

Both quieted, falling into very active private thoughts. Marui couldn't contemplate life without Jackal and had no intention of trying to. "Summer break ends in two days."

"Mm. Second term. College entrance exams."

"If we went to Rikkai those would only be a formality."

"Mm. If we went to Rikkai..."

Marui didn't let Jackal's statement trail into silence. "I'm going to spend the next 48 hours with you so that when school starts again, you'll be sick of me."

"I couldn't be sick of you."

This time Marui did lay his face in the mattress. The comforter smelled like Jackal. The soap he liked best. The laundry detergent his mom washed his clothes with. It was a comforting smell; the smell of "familiar".

"Bunta..."

Bunta?! Since when did Jackal call him by his given name? He sat up and looked at his doubles partner, who looked as miserable as he felt. This was not how he wanted to end his summer break. It had been fun, like it should've been. It shouldn't be all depressing and heavy now. He had less than a year... and he could spend it being miserable or he could make Jackal laugh, lighten the mood, and sweep everything under the rug... or... He was going to lose Jackal. Now or in a number of months didn't really matter. And since when did Marui Bunta play it safe? "Does that mean I get to call you Kuwahara?" Jackal looked up at him. Good. He wanted Jackal's attention for this. He needed Jackal to understand that this was a deliberate action. He watched Jackal as he scooted closer, as he leaned in, and couldn't watch any more when he pressed his lips to Jackal's. It was surprising how easy it was and how right it felt, but not nearly as surprising as feeling Jackal lean into him. Marui felt light, like his insides might evaporate and all that would be left was floppy, formless skin. He'd kissed a couple of girls in middle school, but nothing had ever compared to this simple close-mouthed kiss. It was a long time - or it seemed like a long time - before he found the willpower to sit back. He could feel that his eyes were wide, but that was okay because Jackal's were too. It hadn't even been an involved kiss, but it seemed like they were both a little short of breath. "Is this why things never worked out with all those girls you dated?" It was a careless comment meant to inject a little humor. Jackal's slow nod was unexpected. "Oh." Very eloquent. Marui didn't quite know what to say. Jackal hadn't been able to keep a girlfriend for more than a week since... the beginning of high school. "What a waste of all these years! Why didn't you say anything sooner?"

Jackal tried not to look the strange combination of offended and sheepish that he did and lifted his chin, "You didn't."

"True."

"Besides, I wasn't really ready to deal with it. I'm still not sure how I feel about it."

"It being me?"

"It being how I feel about you."

"Oh. It took me awhile to get over it."

"Your family isn't Catholic."

"Only half of your family is Catholic."

"So... I'm half okay with it? Maybe."

"I bet it's something that'll be more okay the more you do it."

"Meaning?" Jackal's look was suspicious.

"We could try kissing again," Marui said it like he was just tossing an idea out, trying desperately to hide how much he wanted it.

Jackal was quiet, looking at him intently, gray eyes unwavering. Marui stood his ground and did his best not to fidget. "You're nervous," Jackal said after a long pause.

"Of course I'm nervous! Who wouldn't be?"

"It's okay, then."

"What?"

"I feel better knowing I'm not the only nervous one."

"You're so lame. Kiss me again. You have more experience at this than I do."

He did. And they took more time this go around. No gaping mouths or ravaging tongues, but softness and gentle breaths and a sweetness that made Marui's fingers tingle. He didn't bother leaving his eyes open. He just let himself feel Jackal's body heat, the gentle roughness of the hand on his arm, the tender brushes of Jackal's lips against his. This time he didn't care if his breathing was erratic. When Jackal pulled back, Marui leaned against the wall. It might have been either of them, and Marui would like to have blamed Jackal, but he was pretty sure it was his own hand that found Jackal's and curled their fingers together.

"Our parents are going to have a fit." It was the honest truth - one of those realizations in the aftermath.

Jackal just chuckled. "My parents don't have room to talk. Both sets of my grandparents were furious when they found out that my parents wanted to get married."

"But they did it anyway."

"Mm." Jackal looked away from Marui, not that there was anything particularly interesting about the bookshelf he seemed to be staring at. "Even if I do go to university in Brazil... that doesn't mean I'm going to stay there."

"Oh," Marui felt his smile start deep in his chest. "I'm going to hold you to that."

Cool off, acanta!

solanum_d — Sun, 14 Sep 2008 16:45:21 GMT

Recipient: acantabloom
Title: Water Lilies
Characters/Pairings: Tachibana/Yukimura (...ish)
Rating/Warnings: PG; no real warnings
Disclaimer: I don't own Prince of Tennis.
Notes: Okay, I really couldn't resist the challenge of this. Despite what the pairing says, it turned out to be more gen/implied than actual romance, but I hope you like it all the same. OTL This is the result of several crazy brainstorming sessions and a lot of hard work. I hope you like it, acantabloom~
Much thanks to my dear lovely R the magic beta, without whom I probably wouldn't have managed to finish this. Thanks for your support~

Yukimura gazes at the painting in front of him, eyes scanning over every detail, every brush stroke. He's stopped in front of a Monet in the Impressionism section of the exhibit (which is smaller than he would've liked, but it's still an exhibit, so he can't complain, not really). This close, he can see every color and every little detail of the painting, and if he wanted to, he could almost reach out and brush his fingers across the thick layers of paint, though surely that's not allowed.

Voices from his right snap Yukimura out of his reverie; he steps back to allow the family that's approaching some room, and to look around at the other paintings displayed on the wall. He can't help but be slightly annoyed as they come along-- this family is much too loud for an art exhibit. He glances over at them. The mother is obviously the art enthusiast, and is exclaiming loudly at every new painting she comes across. One would think that someone with a true appreciation for art would be considerate of the others trying to view the exhibit, Yukimura thinks. At least the father seems to be trying to quiet her down, though. The two children, a boy and a girl about his age, are staying back a ways, obviously trying to pretend not to know their parents. Yukimura can't blame them.

He narrows his eyes at the other boy. Tall, rather well-built, very short blond hair. He looks familiar, Yukimura thinks.

The blond boy glances over at him and frowns slightly, apparently examining Yukimura's face as well. A moment later he blinks, and starts to walk over. "You're Rikkai's Yukimura, right?"

Yukimura blinks. He looks at the boy's face again. Then, suddenly, it clicks into place. "You're Tachibana," he replies. "From Fudomine."

"I've heard a lot about you," Tachibana says as he stops next to him, extending a hand by way of greeting. Yukimura shakes it.

"I suppose that's natural," he says neutrally-- he's long since used to it. "I'm sorry I couldn't be there when my team played yours."

"Don't worry about it," Tachibana replies, smiling. He turns to the painting they're standing in front of, and Yukimura takes that as his cue to turn back as well. Soon, again, he's entranced by the myriad of colors dotted across the canvas.

Tachibana speaks up again after a minute. "Haystacks?"

Yukimura nods. "Haystacks."

Tachibana pauses. "...Why?" he asks. "Haystacks, I mean. I'm not an artist, so I don't really get it, but... why would an artist want to paint something like haystacks?" His tone sounds genuinely curious, not degrading in any way, Yukimura notes.

He shrugs slightly. "Who knows," he replies, eyes not moving from the painting. "Artists paint whenever inspiration comes. Maybe he saw something in them."

"Hm. ...I guess that makes sense." Tachibana nods, seeming to accept his explanation that's not really an explanation at all.

A voice from off to the left interrupts them. "Onii-chan! If you don't hurry up, we're going to leave without you!" Tachibana's sister calls.

"Alright, I'm coming!" Tachibana calls back. Then he turns back to Yukimura. "It was nice meeting you," he says.

Yukimura nods at him. "You too."

Tachibana continues after glancing over at his family for a moment. "If it's not too much trouble, I'd like to ask you for a match sometime, actually."

Yukimura raises an eyebrow in amusement. Too much trouble...? Who does Tachibana think he's kidding?

"Of course it's not too much trouble," is what he says aloud. "I'm not doing much this summer, anyway." It actually doesn't sound like a bad idea, either; he's been looking for more opponents to play, and Tachibana is said to have been one of the top players. It might make for an interesting match. "When would be good for you?"

Tachibana thinks for a moment. "I'm free Wednesday morning," he offers.

And this is how Yukimura finds himself looking forward to a match with Tachibana Kippei.

-----

Yukimura hates summer. He always has. He hates winter far more than summer, but that doesn't mean he can't dislike the summer as well. Summer is hot and sticky and uncomfortable. Summer means sitting around being hot and sticky and uncomfortable as opposed to going to classes and tennis practice. This particular summer means no tennis practice after the tournament is done-- that's it, they're done, it's over.

Summer means heat. Yukimura doesn't like heat. He doesn't like winter, but he's never minded the cold; sticky summer heat, on the other hand, saps him of his energy and his strength and makes him less able than he was before. He hates feeling like that.

On the bright side-- usually-- summer also means Nationals. This is normally the reason he is able to like summer. But after this year's less-than-satisfactory defeat during finals, Yukimura wonders if maybe he's found another reason to hate summer after all.

-----

Come Wednesday morning, Yukimura arrives at the place they agreed to meet only to find Tachibana already waiting. It's a little street court spot, not too far from Tachibana's house but rather out of the way for Yukimura, not that he minds much. They exchange friendly greetings-- it's almost amusing, how polite both of them are being for a friendly match.

But then the tennis match starts. Yukimura serves first, and he doesn't hold back. Tachibana returns the serve, albeit with difficulty; it's then that Yukimura knows that this will be no easy match. Just how he likes it.

The first few games are a battle for the upper hand. Yukimura gains the advantage at first, as he's used to, but Tachibana determinedly fights back, resisting every step of the way.

With each step, each return of the ball, each miss, Yukimura can't help but notice that Tachibana is slightly different from his normal opponents. The play style almost reminds him of Akaya's in its fierceness, but Tachibana lacks the raw, bleeding emotion that Akaya has. Instead, he has more of a calmer power: composed on the surface, but beneath that, determined and almost vicious in his sharp returns and serves.

Yukimura observes all this with steely eyes as his shot cuts down the middle of the court, too fast for Tachibana to catch.

"You're never going to beat me," he murmurs, a smile on his lips. "But that doesn't mean I can't welcome you to try."

In the second half of the match, Yukimura pulls ahead and takes the lead, and Tachibana goes down fighting. In the end, Yukimura takes the set, but neither has any regrets.

They sit on a bench off to the side after the match, chatting.

"I mean, I knew you were good already, I've seen you play, but to actually play against you is another thing entirely," Tachibana is saying.

Yukimura snorts. "You're nothing to laugh at, yourself," he comments. He's never cared much for flattery, not really, but Tachibana at least sounds sincere. "...And besides," he adds slowly, "I lost during finals, so I can't be all that incredible." He tries to make the words sound casual, but there still lingers that heavy feeling of bad memories Yukimura would rather forget.

Tachibana shrugs. "Everyone loses," he counters. "You're only human. And you'd just gotten out of the hospital recently, right? It's only natural that you wouldn't be at your best."

Yukimura sighs. "Somehow that feels more like an excuse than anything," he murmurs. After everything he went through for victory, all his hard work, to have it pushed aside like that...

"So if you're not satisfied, then get better."

Yukimura blinks at Tachibana in surprise.

"It's really just that simple. We all have regrets. Just get better, and win next time," Tachibana continues.

Yukimura's still looking at him in slight surprise. He thinks about saying something back to that, thinks about asking if Tachibana knows what it's like to almost lose everything.

But he realizes, from the look on his face, that Tachibana's been there.

-----

Soon after that-- too soon-- the break is over and school has started back up again, and it's back to classes and homework for everyone, but the mugginess of summer still remains. For Yukimura, the start of the new term also means no more tennis-- Akaya has taken on the role of captaincy now, although Yukimura silently plans to visit every so often to make sure he's handling it okay. Sometimes he thinks it would be better to just step down and let Akaya get a handle on the role himself, but he can't quite help it.

Lack of tennis practice also means that he now has an extraordinary amount of free time on his hands. Sure, he still trains by himself, but it's different. Now he only has his own practice to look after, instead of the rest of the team. It's the first time in three years, and Yukimura finds it a rather abrupt and not altogether welcome change of pace. It's odd, not practicing at the school's courts for hours every day anymore.

A few days into the new term, he's just leaving from observing the team's practice for a bit (he'd like to stay, even help, maybe, but he has his own training and homework to start on) when he spots a figure waiting by the front entrance of the school. Yukimura squints at the person. Short blond hair, tall, relaxed posture... Yukimura frowns slightly.

"I never would've expected a visit from you of all people, Tachibana," he calls out by way of greeting-- his tone is neutral, but he's smiling slightly, as is natural. He's closer to the gate now, and Tachibana-- yes, that's him, Yukimura is sure of it now-- waves slightly in greeting.

"Yo," he says. "I came to return this." He holds out a worn, fuzzy green headband-- Yukimura's, the one he always wears when he plays tennis. Yukimura stares at it; he's been wondering where the thing was.

"You left it at the street courts after we played," Tachibana explains. "I wanted to return it earlier, but I couldn't find the right time, and I don't know your address or anything..."

"No, it's fine," Yukimura murmurs, accepting the headband from Tachibana. He looks back up at him. "Thank you."

Tachibana nods. "No problem."

An awkward silence ensues after that. Yukimura is grateful for the return of the headband, and he doesn't want to make Tachibana turn around and go back after just returning such a small thing-- it's a ways back to Tokyo-- but at the same time, he doesn't know Tachibana well enough to just hang out with him. He's left standing awkwardly, wondering what to do.

Finally he gives in. "...There's a good café near here if you still have some time," he offers.

Spending time with Tachibana, whom he doesn't know very well, is much less awkward than Yukimura was expecting, as it turns out. Once they sit down across from each other and both order drinks, it's easy to settle into the atmosphere and just talk. They talk about tennis, about their teammates, about school and classes, about their lives and their interests and other random things in their lives. Yukimura finds himself enjoying their conversation.

Somewhere during this chat, the subject of the Impressionism exhibit comes up.

"So you like those types of paintings, huh?"

"Yes." Yukimura nods. He can't quite explain why; he just always has.

"Which ones are your favorites?" Tachibana asks, out of pure curiosity.

"Mm..." Yukimura pauses to think. "I've always liked Monet's water lilies," he says after a moment. "They're simple, and yet somehow very detailed. For some reason, I just... find them calming."

"Water lilies... that makes sense," Tachibana comments. He pauses. "...I still don't really get the haystacks thing, though."

Yukimura laughs.

-----

He starts falling into the routine a bit more soon after that. He's still getting used to not having tennis practice, and school, and having to work again, and no tennis practice, but it's getting a little easier with each day. He sees less of Sanada and Renji now, but that's to be expected, he supposes.

Still, Yukimura finds himself observing the team's practice again a week later. He makes it a point not to come visit any more than once a week-- it's not his team anymore, after all. He has to let Akaya stand on his own and take over.

So he's observing from the top of the stands, making sure not to get too close. It's difficult; even from up here, he can still see everything, each of the players' flaws, what all of them are doing wrong. Akaya obviously doesn't have a handle on leading the team yet, as well; a lot of the time he just gives up and shouts at them. He wants to go down there, to correct the players' forms, to give Akaya advice on how to be a good captain, but he knows he can't. He really should just leave, he knows, but it's something he can't quite help.

Yukimura spots something out of the corner of his eye, suddenly, and he turns to look. Standing a ways from himself are two boys, maybe in second year. One has dark red hair that falls over his eye; the other has long black hair and expressionless look on his face. Yukimura frowns slightly. That's not Rikkai's uniform they're wearing.

"You do know that outsiders aren't allowed to our practices, right?" he calls over to them casually.

The boys start as though they're the kids with their hands caught in the cookie jar. The two of them slowly turn to look at him. Yukimura just smiles.

"You're not part of the team nor this school, so I'm afraid you're going to have to leave."

The black-haired boy starts talking, softly and in a monotone. "You're asking us to leave? If we have to leave, then you should too. You're not down there practicing, so you're not part of the team either."

The redhead scowls at Yukimura. "He's right! You're not even on the team! You can't tell us if we have to leave, I bet you're just a freshman or something. Who are you, anyway?"

Yukimura's smile freezes in place. "I'm hardly a freshman by now. Yukimura Seiichi, former captain of Rikkai's tennis team. Nice to meet you."

Yukimura watches with amusement as the redhead's eyes widen in horror. He sputters. "You're-- you're-- Yukimura?!"

"And you two are...?" Yukimura enquires. Always best to know one's enemies.

Before either can answer, a shout from the courts below interrupts them. "OI!"

"I was wondering when he'd notice," Yukimura murmurs. Down on the courts, Akaya is glaring up at them.

"Fudomine! You're not allowed here! Get out!" Akaya yells.

The redhead glares down at him. "You don't have to yell across the court!" he shouts back.

"Kamio is yelling too," the black-haired boy mumbles. "Kamio shouldn't yell if he wants people to stop yelling."

"Well, that's what it'll take for you to hear me! Now get out! No spies allowed!" Akaya waves his racket at them.

"All right, we get it already! You don't have to be rude!" Kamio, the redhead, looks like he's getting ready to march down to the courts. The black-haired boy is making no moves to stop him.

That's enough of that. Yukimura walks over to the two boys and puts a hand on Kamio's shoulder. "I think it'd be best if you two left now." He smiles at them, a smile that says 'don't argue with me.'

"Eh..." Kamio cringes at him, then looks back down at the courts.

"Kamio." The black-haired boy is mumbling again. "We should go. They know we're here already. We're not going to get any more information."

"...Damn." Kamio shakes off Yukimura's hand, then yells down at the court, "I won't forget this!" The two of them leave after that, muttering to each other as they walk away.

Yukimura stares after them. "So they're Fudomine..." he murmurs, a hint of a real smile on his lips.

-----

It's becoming easier now. Going to school, keeping in shape on his own, he's getting more used to it after a few weeks. It's easy to fall into a routine, he thinks, even when that routine is something you're not used to.

On some days he goes over to study at Renji's house; other times he practices together with Sanada. Or maybe on some days Akaya will come up to him, looking for help on something or other. Nothing has really changed, for which Yukimura is grateful.

That still doesn't exempt him from occasional moments of oddness, though. Like the one weekend when, inexplicably, Yukimura's parents decide that they need to go camping.

"Have to get it done before the summer's over for good," his father says. Yukimura thinks it's an excuse for the whole family to spend more time together, but he doesn't say that aloud.

Which is how he finds himself sitting in the back of the family van on a Saturday afternoon, with only his sister and one of Renji's books to keep him company. He tries to focus on the book, but his mind keeps drifting to the ominous storm clouds outside and his parents' good-natured bickering in the front of the car. (His mother notes that they could've picked a weekend that doesn't look like rain. His father replies that rain will make it a more interesting experience. His mother remarks that he just doesn't want to turn back.)

The camping ground, when they get to it, is a quiet, secluded little spot in the middle of some sparse woods, with a small lake nearby. It has running water, and bathrooms a ways off (an official campground, not just some random spot in the middle of nowhere), and Yukimura thinks he sees some other camping spots not too far away.

After some trial and error, they finally manage to get the tents set up. Yukimura and his father are setting up one tent, while his mother and sister are putting up the other. His sister, Kana, tries to read off the instructions and put up the tent at the same time, a feat which proves difficult. Yukimura's father fumbles with the tent, and Yukimura has to stop him and say that no, dad, that pole goes there, and eventually they get it figured out.

Yukimura wanders off by himself for a bit after they set up the tents. He'd like to be alone for a bit, and besides, there's got to be something to see around here. Maybe he'll run into some wild animals or something.

He stops in front of a particularly large tree. It's at least thirty feet tall, with a trunk half as wide as Yukimura is tall. He runs a hand over the trunk, looking up at it.

"I wonder how old this is..." he murmurs.

Footsteps crunch behind him suddenly, and Yukimura jumps. There are other people out here?

He turns around and starts in surprise.

Approaching from about ten feet off is Tachibana, of all people, with casual clothes on and a slightly stunned look on his face.

"Yukimura! Don't tell me you're camping here, too?"

"...I never realized Japan was this small," Yukimura mutters. What kind of crazy coincidence...?

Tachibana laughs. "It feels like that, yeah." He walks over to stand next to Yukimura beside the tree. "So, what, are you here for family bonding time, too?"

"Mm. That's what it feels like, anyway." Yukimura leans against the tree trunk. "My dad wanted us to go camping before the summer ends. Never mind that we could easily go any other time..."

They continue talking about mundane things for a little while. Yukimura learns that Tachibana's family is situated at a camping spot not too far from their own. The fact that both of their families would decide to visit this exact camping location on this particular weekend is a marvelous coincidence, and both of them boggle at it for a bit.

It's not long after that when Yukimura's mother-- a petite, pretty woman-- finds them, having wandered their way in search of her son.

"Seiichi, there you are!" she says as she approaches. "We were going to go swimming in the lake now." When she reaches the tree, she gets a better look at Tachibana. "...Oh, hello," she greets.

"Hi." Tachibana extends a hand. "I'm Tachibana Kippei. Nice to meet you."

"He plays tennis as well," Yukimura explains.

"Ahh. Well, that explains it." She gives Yukimura a knowing, amused look. "It's nice to meet you, Tachibana-kun. I take it you're also camping here?"

Tachibana nods. "Not too far that way," he says, motioning.

Yukimura's mom nods. "...Well, we were going to go swimming down by the lake, so we should go," she says at length. "Would your family like to come join us? If Seiichi has a friend he can hang out with, that's great." (Yukimura would call him more of an acquaintance, but that's beside the point.)

"I'll have to ask them first, but that would be great," Tachibana replies.

They part ways after that. After preparing, Yukimura and his family head down to the lake. His parents choose to sit on the beach, resting and watching; Kana hesitates in the shallows for a few minutes before splashing out deeper into the lake. The water is cold, and the rocks are slimy beneath Yukimura's feet, so he stays near shore, never wading in past his knees. He won't deny that he's enjoying himself, though; it's quiet out here, and oddly calming.

Splashing from off to the right alerts Yukimura, and he turns his head to look. Tachibana is wading over now, as he's not entirely surprised to see.

"My family is over there," he says, jerking one thumb over his shoulder. "I thought I'd come over and say hi."

Yukimura nods and smiles slightly.

"So how's life been going?" Tachibana continues.

"Mm." Yukimura shrugs. "I haven't been able to play as much as I'd like to. Other than that, it's been going fairly well."

It's Tachibana's turn to nod. "I know the feeling. It's weird to have to get used to, isn't it?"

"Mm." No more words are needed. The two of them wade back up near the shore and sit in the shallow water in companionship.

-----

That night, as he sits at his spot by the campfire, Yukimura can't help but be surprised.

Their families run into each other sometime while they're at the lake. Yukimura's mom is happy to meet "the mother of one of Seiichi's friends," and she and Tachibana's mother get along instantly. Yukimura thinks she's more excited that she gets to make a new friend. Their fathers exchange greetings, and An and Kana seem to get along.

Tachibana and Yukimura just exchange a Look.

"If I had known it would end up like this..." Yukimura murmurs. Tachibana just laughs.

After that, one thing leads to another, and later that night, they find themselves all settled around a large fire by the Tachibana family's tents. Dark clouds still linger overhead, but nobody is paying attention to them; they're all too preoccupied. At the moment, Tachibana has their full attention.

"...So, he went out swimming in the river every night," Tachibana is saying. "When his two sons were born, he began teaching them how to swim. As soon as they were old enough, he began taking them out at night. Often they would stay out there in the river all night. The man's wife had to stay in the house all alone.

"After a while, she started acting strange. She would tell people that her husband was turning into an alligator, and that he wanted their sons to become alligators, too. Of course, nobody believed her-- it was just swimming, they said, and everyone knows there are no alligators around here. But she kept saying it. Finally, early one morning, she ran into town from the river, soaking wet. She said that a big alligator and two little alligators had pulled her into the water-- they were her husband and sons, she said, and they wanted her to join them."

Tachibana pauses for effect. "Well, the doctor thought she'd lost her mind. So he had her put away for a while. After that, her husband and sons disappeared. No one ever saw them again. Sometimes, though... sometimes, a fisherman would talk about seeing alligators in the river at night. One big one and two little ones. But everyone knew they were just making it up." He pauses again and looks around the circle. "Everyone knows there are no alligators around here. Right?"

He sits back, smiling slightly.

Long, slow clapping comes from Yukimura's father. Mostly everyone looks mildly impressed, although An is smiling as well. She's heard this one before, Yukimura thinks.

He also smiles a little. "That was good," he murmurs.

Tachibana grins at him. "We have a book of these at home somewhere," he says. "That's how I knew it."

"So much for going back to the lake," Kana says with a slightly nervous laugh.

Yukimura looks around the circle. "So whose turn is it next? I can always--"

"Hold up," his father interrupts, looking up towards the sky. "Is that rain?"

Yukimura looks up. As his father said, raindrops are drizzling down now. He should've expected that.

"It's not very hard," he says. "We should be fine."

They attempt to keep telling ghost stories-- Yukimura's mother has one she wants to tell, so they start on that one. After a few minutes, though, it's raining noticeably harder, and their fire is dying. When it goes out completely in another minute or two, that's when they get up and start dashing for the tents.

Tachibana motions for Yukimura to follow him. "You can stay with us until the storm clears," he calls. "It's closer."

So he ducks into one of the two tents, along with An and Kana. The adults have all made their way to the other tent.

The four of them attempt to settle down comfortably in the small space. It's a little tight, but they manage. The rain is pounding down on the walls of the tent, so the experience is more than a little surreal.

"I've never seen it start raining so suddenly like that," Yukimura says. The others nod.

"That's nature for you," An says, shrugging. "Unpredictable."

Thunder rolls suddenly, loudly, and Kana jumps.

"...So do we want to continue telling ghost stories?" Yukimura asks at length. "It's not as if there's much else to do in here."

"Sure, why not," Tachibana agrees. "I'm sure we all have a few left."

"I'll start." Yukimura leans forward slightly, and the atmosphere in the tent changes.

"So a man lives in a house, alone, with his two dogs," he begins with a low voice. "Every night, he keeps his dogs outside, to stand guard. However, one night, as he's in bed, he swears he can hear a dog running around upstairs..."

They continue telling stories for quite a while; no one is quite sure how long, but after what has to be a good hour or two, the rain is still falling steadily. The ghost stories trickle off, and eventually it's decided that they'll just go to sleep here and wait out the storm during the night.

Yukimura, of course, can't sleep. He's always had difficulty falling asleep in unfamiliar places, and the sound of the rain isn't helping matters.

So Yukimura lays on his side, restless, and watches Tachibana. The latter fell asleep almost instantly; Yukimura's not sure how he can do it.

With nothing else to do, he continues watching Tachibana's sleeping face. He looks just as gentle asleep as he does awake; while Tachibana's smile usually has a slight edge to it, there's also a definite kindness there that Yukimura's noted. Interesting how it comes out even more when he sleeps, Yukimura thinks.

He keeps watching Tachibana for a little while. After some time, Yukimura eventually manages to fall asleep.

-----

It's still dark when he wakes up again.

Restless, Yukimura peeks his head out of the tent curiously; the rain has stopped now, although mud is everywhere. He looks up and gasps slightly-- all the clouds are gone now, and the stars are brighter than he's ever seen them before. In the city, normally, the stars are only partially visible; out here, however, they're stunningly bright.

Rustling from inside the tent catches Yukimura's attention, and he ducks back in. Tachibana is sitting up, half-awake, apparently having been disturbed by Yukimura's moving around.

"Tachibana," Yukimura murmurs to catch his attention.

"Nn-- what is it?" Tachibana mutters back. Yukimura crawls out of the tent and motions for him to do so as well.

"...Oh wow," he comments as he climbs out, looking up at the sky.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Yukimura says softly. Tachibana nods. With nothing better to do, and nowhere better to sit, they go over to the circle of logs from their earlier fire and sit down there, looking up at the stars.

"You don't see these kinds of stars back at home," Tachibana says after a bit.

"Mm. It's because of all the light pollution in the cities," Yukimura replies. "Out here there's nothing to get in the way."

And so the two of them sit, occasionally making a comment, occasionally pointing out consellations or other things of interest, but mostly in comfortable silence. They stay that way until the sunrise.

-----

The next day is relatively uneventful, except for the fact that nobody can decide what to do. There's a hiking trail nearby that they had been planning to go on, but with all the mud from the rain, Kana and both of their mothers would rather stay by the lake. Eventually they decide that the boys will go on the hiking trail, and the girls can stay behind and swim.

It's early afternoon when Yukimura, Tachibana, and their fathers set off down the trail. It's even more humid than normal, and mud is still everywhere, but the path itself isn't too difficult, so they fare just fine. Tachibana and Yukimura quickly manage to pull ahead and split off from their fathers (they both walk too slow), so mostly it's just the two of them. They fill the silence with scattered talking about various things.

"...Oh, that's right," Yukimura says at one point, remembering. "Rikkai happened to be visited by two of your teammates last week."

"Really?" Tachibana raises his eyebrows. "By who?"

"One of them was named Kamio. The other had long black hair." Yukimura motions at his own hair.

"Kamio and Shinji," Tachibana says, smiling and shaking his head. "I'm not surprised. What were they doing there?"

"Just scoping out our own team, I think," Yukimura says. "Akaya spotted them and started shouting, though, so it turned into a yelling contest."

Tachibana laughs. "So that's why Kamio has been going on about him for the past week. He's been saying he wants revenge in the form of a match."

Yukimura raises an eyebrow and smiles. "Has to see who's better, hm? If you want to arrange something between them, I'm willing to help out. I know Akaya wouldn't mind too much."

"That'd be great. Here, you know what, give me your email address when we get back to the camp. We'll work it out during the week."

With that, the rest of the day passes quietly, even with the snake they find in the hiking path at one point. At the end of the day, the two families part ways, each having to go back to their respective lives after the weekend.

"Such a nice young man," Yukimura's mother comments as they're in the car on their way back. "You should invite him over sometime, Seiichi."

Yukimura nods, smiling slightly. "Perhaps."

-----

A few days later, an email pops into his inbox.

To: Yukimura Seiichi
From: Tachibana Kippei
Subject: Match

Hi, Yukimura-- I talked to Kamio about the match and he's definitely up for it. Is Saturday afternoon good on your end?

To: Tachibana Kippei
From: Yukimura Seiichi
Subject: Re: Match

saturday is fine for us. i'll see you then?

-----

He runs into Niou and Yagyuu before class Friday morning.

"So, Yukimura," Niou starts, "what do you say to karaoke or something with the team tomorrow? Lame, I know, but it wasn't my idea."

Yukimura smiles at Niou's bluntness. "I'm sorry to say, I've already got plans for tomorrow."

"Oh, so suddenly he doesn't have time for us anymore? What, got a date or something?" Niou slings an arm around Yagyuu's shoulders casually. Yagyuu crosses his arms but doesn't push him away.

"You have absolutely no evidence of that, Niou," Yukimura says, amused.

Niou shrugs. "Don't have any evidence against it, either."

"...Akaya has a match tomorrow," he says after a moment. "I'm going along."

"Ahhh, tennis. That explains it," Niou says, nodding. "Because everything in Yukimura-land revolves around tennis, doesn't it."

Yukimura laughs.

-----

Saturday afternoon finds him standing in the subway station, peering through the crowd of people for two in particular. Akaya's next to him, looking moody.

"Why do I have to do this now, Yukimura-buchou?" he complains.

Yukimura smiles slightly. "I'm not your buchou anumore, Akaya," he corrects.

Akaya huffs and looks away stubbornly. "Buchou is buchou."

At this, Yukimura laughs. "Anyway," he continues. "I thought you'd jump at the chance to play a decent opponent."

"But buchou!" Akaya protests. "It's Fudomine." The scornful tone of voice Akaya uses suggests exactly what he thinks of them.

"...It's true that they're not at Rikkai's level, but they're hardly terrible players, either," Yukimura says after a moment. "Besides, I hear Kamio's out for your blood now," he adds in an amused tone.

Akaya snorts. "He'll never beat me."

Yukimura nods, having expected this. A moment later, a familiar shock of blond hair in the crowd up ahead catches his eye.

Tachibana is the kind of person who stands out in a crowd, at least to Yukimura. It's not just his unusual height, or his brightly bleached blond hair. It's the way he carries himself with confidence, the way he can be rough and friendly at the same time in that boyish way Yukimura's so accustomed to. Perhaps it's how, when he grins at them from his place in the crowd, Yukimura can't help but smile back.

Tachibana reaches them after a minute, with Kamio just behind him. Kamio nods at Yukimura, then proceeds to start the typical glaring contest with Akaya.

"I won't lose to you," he says, and Yukimura can tell he means every word.

Akaya just sneers. "You can try to beat me."

Yukimura and Tachibana just let the two bicker as they head for the local courts. Once arrived, they get them to agree long enough to decide who serves, but once the game's started Kamio and Akaya are back to their battle, this time taking it out on the tennis ball.

As the two of them play, Yukimura and Tachibana stand by the fences and watch the game, occasionally making comments about the opposite team's skill. Akaya has the advantage, has had it since the match started, but Yukimura can't count out Kamio just yet, either-- his tenacity is something to be reckoned with.

It's the same kind of determination he saw in Tachibana, Yukimura realizes somewhere in the third game.

"Are all you Fudomine players that determined to win?" he asks out of curiosity, eyes never leaving the match.

"Most of them are, yeah," Tachibana replies. "It's probably because of the incident last year."

Yukimura nods. He's heard about it from Renji, master data gatherer that he is, about how the Fudomine players overthrew the upperclassmen who were treating them like dirt.

"That would take determination," he agrees. And he can see it in Kamio's eyes as he plays, that fierceness. Tachibana's eyes were a reflection of that, he recalls.

He keeps watching them, noting that Akaya is also growing more serious as the match goes on. As it ends and Akaya wins the set, Yukimura wishes for a moment that it weren't over yet. He's seen far greater matches, been in far greater matches, but it's been so long since he's seen such fierce tenacity in both players. It's been too long since he's felt it himself, that sheer, exhilarating determination. It feels like it's been forever since he set foot on a tennis court.

Yukimura doesn't move from his watching spot as Kamio and Akaya return to the benches. He's still transfixed in thought. His fingers itch to grip the racket again. His muscles ache to run, to be pushed to their limits in a challenge. It hasn't been incredibly long-- he played against Sanada late last week, when neither of them were busy-- but it still feels like much too long and much too far in between.

"Tachibana," Yukimura murmurs, glancing over at him.

Tachibana's grinning at him. "Sure, why not," he says.

Kamio and Akira are still bickering at each other (Kamio claiming that the next time he'll defeat Akaya miserably, Akaya sneering that results are results and that Kamio's just a sore loser) when the two of them enter the court. Yukimura walks over to Akaya, smiling slightly.

"Akaya, would you mind lending me your racket?"

Akaya glances over at him, brow furrowing. "Buchou?"

"We can't let you two have all the fun, can we?" Tachibana says as he joins them. "You did well, Kamio," he adds in a softer tone, one hand on his shoulder. Kamio looks away with anger and bitter disappointment still in his eyes, but he nods anyway.

The atmosphere changes when the two of them step onto the court, their juniors' rackets in hand. One could probably cut the tension with a knife at this point, up until the very moment when Tachibana sends the ball into play. Then it's a fast-paced battle of wills, right from the start. It's much like the last time they played, except not-- different plays, different shots and scores, but that same determination, like the feeling during Kamio and Akaya's match except amplified between the two of them.

Yukimura for one is more intent than ever. Tachibana is no easy opponent, and that's just what Yukimura wants. That's the one thing he doesn't like about being "the best of the best": he rarely finds opponents that he can really push himself while playing against. There are his teammates, yes, but he knows them so well that he could likely imitate all of their shots if he so desired.

Which is why, about an hour later, as night falls and the overhead lights flicker on, they're still going all out against each other, neither one willing to give an inch. Yukimura is deliberately pushing Tachibana, and Tachibana's pushing right back.

The game eventually ends-- Yukimura's victory, but a close match all the same-- and leaves Yukimura feeling slightly regretful that it's over but grinning all the same. In reality there's no logical explanation for why he feels so alive right now, but he's been too absorbed in the game to really care.

As they shake hands over the net and then part ways, Akaya talking at him about the matches as they leave, Yukimura decides that it was worth tagging along for.

-----

To: Yukimura Seiichi
From: Tachibana Kippei
Subject: Thanks

I wanted to say thanks again for helping arrange that match last week. Our match afterwards was enjoyable, too. Maybe if you're interested we could get together again sometime, either for tennis or just to hang out.

To: Tachibana Kippei
From: Yukimura Seiichi
Subject: Re: Thanks

the match last week was no problem. akaya really didn't mind it as much as he says he did, by the way.

getting together again eventually would be lovely. i'm free most of the time, feel free to let me know and we'll figure something out.

-----

Very soon after that, it gets less hot and muggy and summer starts to fade, transitioning into fall. It's getting cool enough to wear warmer clothes now, and red starts to tint the leaves.

Yukimura isn't sure how he feels anymore about seeing the summer go. Yes, it was still hot and muggy and miserable and awkward-- that part he can't deny. But somehow there was something different about this summer, something that made it less unbearable. Perhaps it was the joy of finally getting to play all out again in a match, perhaps it was something else. He's not quite sure. But either way, he can't say he hated it completely.

One day, several weeks after the match with Tachibana, Yukimura gets a postcard in the mail. The painting on the front is easily recognizable: Monet's water lilies.

"I saw this and it reminded me of you," is printed in firm, blocky letters on the back.

The sender doesn't write his name. He doesn't have to.

Yukimura props it up on his desk in plain sight.

---END---

Cool Off, Solanum!

senshixdoukeshi — Sun, 14 Sep 2008 04:09:29 GMT

Recipient: solanum_d
Title: Três Semanas
Pairings/Characters: Jackal/Marui
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi, I am making no profit from this.
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Deciding to escape to another world, Marui Bunta ends up finding more than he bargained for in Brazil.
Notes: Thanks so much to my beta and everyone who helped me out with this fic! I really hope you enjoy it solanum_d!!!

Walking out onto the streets of Rio de Janeiro alone for the first time should have felt strange - awkward even –but instead, Marui couldn’t help but feel comforted by the mass of bodies that swarmed the streets. The busy congestion of Tokyo seemed to have prepared him well for this city. Vibrant colors swirling around him made his bright hair fit in where his pale skin and light eyes could not.

So with the confident flap of his flip-flops on pavement (could it really be winter back in Japan? He really was a world away… And with an unsteady grasp of Portuguese, Marui strolled down the streets, eyes opened wide to the various shops selling the generic touristy shirts, flip flops, random statues, and so much more. It was almost too much to soak in, and the redhead found himself grateful he would be here for an entire three-week mini-mester. Study abroad had kind of turned out to be the best idea ever.

Still congratulating himself on his brilliant if not impulsive decision, the succulent scent of a barbeque filled his senses, and Marui found himself stopped at a small street cart to eye a new array of food with an eager, delicious hunger. A pleasant old man, aged too fast probably from the combination of sun and poor healthcare, smiled back at him, gesturing as to what the foreign boy in front of him wanted.

“Eu querias…” Marui paused attempting to think of the word he wanted. “Um...aquelas!”

The old man simply stared at him, still smiling that friendly smile and gesturing that he had no idea what he was saying. Well, shit.

“Eu querias…” Now he was pointing like a crazy person at what he wanted while trying to figure out the apparently right word. Why wasn’t he just giving it to him? It was ‘cause he looked different. It had to be. Now he knew what tourists felt like when they came to Japan; it sucked to say the least.

“Nós queriamos dios queijos coalhos por favor,” a smooth voice rapidly called out from behind him, flashing Marui a crinkly grin as he threw down some real and handing the snack to the redhead.

“Thanks, I think,” Marui replied hesitantly in Japanese without a second thought, eyes widening as he realized his mistake. Some genius he turned out to be in Brazil.

“No problem,” the stranger answered just as smoothly back, causing Marui to stop eating his food and stare slightly in shock. The taller man just laughed before continuing, “Keep trying though. It’s an easy language to pick up I promise.”

And just like that, he disappeared into the crowd, the university student’s mouth slowly spreading into a smile as he started eating his food again. Rio de Janeiro was definitely a nice place, he decided.

--

It was a week later when Marui literally ran into the dark stranger that had saved his ass. With a doughnut half-hanging out of his mouth as he raced to class and his book bag haphazardly swinging at his side, he didn’t even see the man as he crashed into him, more upset about the fact that his doughnut was now on the ground than anything else.
“You…you….” Marui pointed at his doughnut, pushing his bright bangs back in frustration.

Something way too fast in Portuguese was the reply, causing Marui to glare, and the once helpful stranger to chuckle slightly.

“You’re late for class aren’t you?” He smiled an easy, crinkly smile.

“Yeah, maybe, so?” The redhead shot back, digging for a piece of gum and sticking it in his mouth.

“Let’s ditch. I’ll get you another doughnut.” Another easy smile that made it hard to stay mad at him.

Now, that Marui loved the sound of as they began to walk in the opposite direction of the university.

--

After spending the entire day with Jackal (names had been the first thing they had discussed), Marui had discovered practically everything there was to know about him. Only child. Japanese father. Grew up there until his mother missed her homeland so much that they had to come back. Same age. Played sports. Life guarded on the beach on the weekends.

Simple stuff; but for some odd reason, the college student found himself wanting to hear more, and he found himself telling Jackal everything in return.

“Do you believe in fate?” Marui asked out of blue as they sprawled out on the beach, staring up at the stars (you could never see them in Tokyo) with a bottle of rum in between them.

“Mmmm, yeah I do.” Jackal turned on his side to look at the pale foreigner, taking a swig from the bottle. “Why?”

“Dunno. I mean, not everything can be left up to my awesome genius timing ya know?” A huge gulp, and the world was starting to get blurry.

“Are you trying to say that you’re glad you met me?” Jackal wagged his eyebrows, and Marui couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Oh hell no,” the shorter teen retaliated. “You’ll just make it easier to meet chicks.”

“Well now that, I might be able to do…since you can’t do it on your own.”

Despite the pissy glare he shot at his new friend, Marui couldn’t remember the last time he’d had this much fun.

--

They went to the same bar they had been going to every other night since that fateful day they had decided to ditch class and head to the beach instead. Different girls, different shots, and different beds to wake up in every morning, but in the thick of the action, it was always them.

Jackal said the girls loved Marui for his bright hair (not to mention the bright, sassy personality that came with it), the “cute” way he butchered their language that he still hadn’t mastered despite being a “genius”, and because they were so sick of tan, that pasty pale was refreshing. Whatever it was, there seemed to be no shortage of them, and the redhead couldn’t help but love it.

Marui winked at his partner-in-crime from across the table, throwing back two more shots quickly, and pulling his girl for the night, what was her name again?, out on the dance floor. It kind of sucked that most of the time they were taller or the same height as him, but what could he do? She was…smothering him though, pressing her thighs and breasts against him as if she was drowning, and he was her last lifeline. He could see Jackal cracking up from the table, a smirk playing on his lips, and Marui wanted to do nothing more than wipe it right off.

Extracting himself from whatsherface’s embrace, Marui confidently slid into his friend’s lap, placing a kiss on his cheek, and taking a large gulp of whatever the half-Brazilian was drinking. “What’s…so funny?” The tensai quipped, slipping back into Japanese like he always did when he was too drunk to think.

A comforting arm slid around his shoulder as a tipsy smile faced him. “Just your predicament Bunta.” A few chuckles erupted as Marui scowled.

“Not my fault she thinks sex is the same thing as dancing,” the short man lazily murmured, taking yet another huge gulp. “Not that I mind normally or whatever.”

“Not everyone can be as talented as you are, açucar.”

Lavender eyes hazily settled on dark gray ones as an idea formed in Marui’s mind. “Dance with me.”

Jackal didn’t say anything in reply, simply took the pale man’s hand as they walked out to the dance floor.

As dark arms wrapped around him tightly and pulled their bodies flush together, Marui couldn’t help but wonder why this felt far better than any of the girls from the past two weeks.

--

“It’s so hard to believe, you know?” Marui slurred, the tequila burning as it slid down his throat. “I mean like…. like….” Another swig, a pass of the half empty bottle, and hand gestures in an attempt to articulate his meaning. “It seems like I just got here, and now I’m like…” A pause to find the words. “Leaving again.”

Jackal simply hummed in response, taking an extra large gulp before passing it back to his companion and digging his toes in the sand. What Marui had attempted to articulate was true; it did seem like only yesterday they were in this exact same spot, passing the same bottle of tequila back and forth, staring at the same stars and watching the waves wash in; the strange redhead still not able to hold his liquor. However, now lacked the excited chatter of new acquaintances, replaced instead by a calm, chill silence laced an unexplainable, nagging urge that could probably be explained by the alcohol. Or so they could pretend.

“Hey Jackaaaaaaal.” Marui’s head rolled onto a tan shoulder, wide lavender eyes searching for deep gray ones in the night. “Who’s gonna drink with me now?”

“The people you left behind for a couple of weeks, of course,” Jackal deadpanned, loosely running a hand through the vibrant hair of his classmate and ignoring the pang he felt at the thought of losing him. “Too drunk to use your genius reasoning huh?”

“Oh yeah…. people in Japan.” Another huge swig of the tequila; liquid courage was an amazing thing Marui decided. As was testing Jackal’s patience. “Maybe some girls like the ones here, you know, with like dark eyes and long hair and huge breasts that perk right up and legs that gone on forever and forever and an ass that….”

“Don’t,” the half-Brazilian cut off, forcing the bottle out of Marui’s hand and gripping his wrist probably harder than he should have. “You should stop.”

“Don’t whaaaaaaat, Jackal?” Marui hiccupped back, confusion washed all over his flushed features.

“Go back.”

Marui wasn’t sure who had lunged for whom, but it didn’t really matter. What did matter was the sensation of grainy sand pressing into his back, teeth drunkenly clacking against his and scraping along his lips, calloused hands roughly clamping down on his hips.

“Shit, Jackal…” Marui managed to hiss as an eager mouth began to bite down on his neck. Everything was rougher, sharper than it should have been, but it felt so damn good, and it seemed so imperative that they just.not.stop. His nails scraped down the Brazilian’s back, leaving needy angry marks in their wake before hands settled on hips and pushed down.

“I’ve…never….” the redhead gasped, quickly losing himself in the sensation as they desperately pressed against each other.

“Shhhhhh açucar,” Jackal whispered, slipping back into his native tongue. He gave the man beneath him a shaky smile as an equally shaky hand slipped below Marui’s waistband and curled around his erection. “Confiame.” Trust me.

And suddenly, the whole world went black.

A sliver of sun peeking out from the blinds caused the world to swim painfully before Marui’s eyes as he attempted to pry them open. His head felt like it was being assaulted repeatedly with a brick; his stomach turning with discomfort, and his ass burned like hell. He groaned, nothing like waking up to the pure pain of a well-earned hangover.

Vaguely, he felt a tanned hand ten shades darker than his own curled protectively around his stomach. Another had tangled itself in his bright hair, a warm body pressed against his back, lips warm on his shoulder, legs interlaced with his, and digging into his back, a very pronounced…

Fuck.

The realization was almost as jarring as the striking dizziness he felt as he bolted upright. Sure enough, there he was. Kuwahara Jackal, his easy-going, quick to smile classmate, lying next to him, and completely naked as he had been the day he was born.

The college student fuzzily remembered strong hands suddenly on his hips pressing him into the sand, the lips assaulting his neck, but they couldn’t have had that much to drink could they? And how had they even managed to stumble back to Jackal’s bed?

Marui had liked Jackal, really he had, but sex changed everything, and even their easy friendship would be different. Even his muddled brain could see the train of thought: fucking lead to feelings, and feelings lead to a relationship. Marui didn’t come to leave his heart in Brazil, and for some odd reason, his heart panged to leave Jackal in pain.

So without one word, he silently slipped from Jackal’s far too warm embrace, threw back on his shorts and walked away. It was better for them that way after all.

--

Another week and a half later found Marui walking to his mailbox like any other boring day. The sense of guilt and regret that he’d felt when he had gotten on that airplane, when he’d left without saying a single word, hadn’t left since he’d come back home.

Nor had the thoughts of what Jackal had thought when he woke up to an empty bed. To when he had realized the redhead was gone. Marui sincerely hoped that he had been too drunk to remember. The thought hurt, but it made things easier nonetheless.

Shuffling through his mail, the college student stumbled upon something that made it very clear Jackal had not forgotten. It was a simple postcard of the beach they’d gone to twice in his stay, and he sucked in a breath as he flipped it over.

Açucar,

Did you really think that you could just run away like that? You went to another country, not another planet (or did your awesome geniuses fail you yet again? :P)

That however is not what I want to write to you about. I like you Bunta (no, don’t even try to think in the ‘we’re just friends way’…. yes, I remember how you would make crazy excuses). A lot. And I think we deserve better than one drunken night we both hardly remember.

So look for me in a week. I’ll be the tall, dark one with the shaved head who sticks out like a sore thumb.

Amo-o,

Jackal

Maybe he had left his heart in Brazil after all, Marui thought with a slight smile, tucking the post card into his pocket. Thank god for someone who was bringing it back.

Cool off, senshixdoukeshi!

solanum_d — Fri, 12 Sep 2008 17:24:53 GMT

Recipient: senshixdoukeshi
Title: Making It Count
Beta: Me, myself & I.
Characters/Pairings: TakaFuji, YuuMi
Rating/Worksafe: R for pseudo-smut, grouchy boys and uncharitable thoughts.
Disclaimer: Characters created by Konomi Takeshi. Situations created by me, but I'm willing to bet that he'd approve.

a/n: Dearestsenshixdoukeshi – I swear to you that this was intended to be strictly TakaFuji. But then things (or, rather, someone)...happened. I sincerely hope you enjoy this story and forgive me my transgressions. I know not what I do. :O

~Making it Count~

The kitchen was dark despite the promise of sunshine outside. Yuuta sat at the kitchen table, sullen and uncommunicative while he nursed a bowl of miso. His rice sat untouched before him and the tea their mother had prepared had long since gone cold. Fuji smiled at him when he breezed into the kitchen, seemingly unperturbed when Yuuta chose not to respond.

"Good morning, Yuuta," he said cheerfully, opening the shades and leaning to press one hand against the window over the sink. Small, potted greenery lined the windowsill and Fuji hummed softly as he filled a small paper cup to moisten each plant's soil. "And good morning to all of you," he added, wiping a spot of water away from the leaf of one plant.

"Where is everyone?" Yuuta asked.

"Out, I imagine," Fuji responded, crumpling the cup and tossing it into the wastebasket. "Do you have plans today?"

Yuuta shrugged, hunching further over the table and shielding his bowl from Fuji. "Dunno. Might go out and practice."

Fuji smiled and leaned back against the kitchen counter. "With Mizutani?"

Yuuta looked up blankly. "Who?"

Fuji shook his head and went on smiling, as though he weren't following. "Your coach? Honestly Yuuta, to forget something like that..."

"It's Mizuki," Yuuta corrected, jaw tight, and Fuji held his hands up in surrender. "And he's not my coach anymore."

"Right," Fuji nodded thoughtfully.

There was silence between them for several moments until Fuji spoke again. "So? Are you?"

Irritated, Yuuta glanced up. "Am I what?"

"Going to practice with Mochizuki?"

Standing suddenly, Yuuta snatched up his bowl of soup. It sloshed over the edge to saturate his rice and he sighed heavily.

"Oh, Yuuta," Fuji began pityingly, already reaching to help him when Yuuta waved him back.

"I've got it. Just leave me alone," he muttered.

Before Fuji could answer – before he could attempt to make his brother believe that his needling had been entirely accidental – there was a knock at the door.

"Expecting someone?" Fuji asked? 'Mochizuki, perhaps?' his expression seemed to say.

Yuuta shook his head, took his dishes to the sink. Fuji lingered for a moment or two until Yuuta moved away first before padding toward the door.

Standing at the sink, Yuuta heard his brother welcome Kawamura Takashi and he turned the faucet on high to drown out the sound of their voices. Kawamura was shy and hesitant and eager while his brother was confident and friendly and completely uninvolved. Yuuta wondered if Kawamura came around so often because he wanted to date his brother the way he'd dated that first year last semester. When the relationship had quickly sputtered and died, Yuuta had assumed that Fuji's frosty silence had been the impetus toward the end of Kawamura's short-lived stint as a heterosexual teenager. It was a shame, too. Kawamura was definitely marriage-material in a way that Fuji would never be.

Yuuta shook his head, scowling at the very odd, very gay direction his thoughts had taken. It was his brother's fault, Yuuta knew, that he wasn't right and probably never would be.

"Yuuta?" Fuji called from the hallway. Yuuta rattled dishes in an effort to pretend he hadn't heard. But then his brother was just at his back, his breath warm on the back of Yuuta's neck.

Startled, Yuuta spun about, wanting to back up even when there was no place to go. His back was against the counter already. "Aniki!" he griped.

"Ah, sorry," Fuji smiled, hands clasped behind his back in what Yuuta imagined was a gesture of good faith. No matter that Yuuta wasn't buying it for a second.

He dried his hands on a kitchen towel, wrinkled his nose and tried not to scowl when Kawamura lifted a hand in casual greeting from the kitchen's doorway.

"Taka-san has invited us to the beach for the day. Isn't that nice?"

"Yeah," Yuuta muttered, already searching for a good enough reason not to go. He'd rather sit in his room and hate his life for a few hours than go anywhere with his brother and his would-be suitor.

"A group is always best, ne Yuuta?" Fuji added innocently. "Especially since Taka-san works so hard and doesn't often get the chance to enjoy a day off."

"Lunch is on me," Kawamura supplied helpfully, tucking his big mitts into his over-sized pockets. "You're welcome to come, Yuuta-kun."

Sighing in resignation, Yuuta rubbed a hand against the back of his neck and tried to ignore the twinge of regret that he wasn't going to see Mizuki that day and – if he intended to avoid his brother's merciless teasing – he would also have to pretend not to care. "I suppose-"

"Good," Fuji said, clearly pleased with the prospect of an entire day with two of his favorite people. "Give us just a moment, Taka-san," he said, beaming Kawamura his most serene, angelic smile. "We'll need to change and gather our belongings."

Yuuta felt as though he were developing a case of acid-reflux.

"Of course," Kawamura was quick to reassure. "I'll wait right here."

Yuuta frowned, turning to trudge dutifully toward his bedroom. Of course he'd wait. When it came to Fuji Shuusuke, Kawamura didn't seem to be able to do anything else.

***

Mizuki Hajime had an awful tendency to burn to a crisp whenever he spent more than twenty minutes at a time under a summer sun. No sun block he could buy protected him quite the way his delicate, creamy skin seemed to require and – to that end – he was forever doomed to spend any and all beachtime hidden away under the big, purple umbrella he'd swiped from his grandmother two years ago.

Shifting in his beach chair, Mizuki rolled the wire of his earbuds away from his arm – away from the three layers of sunblock he'd had to slather on all by himself that morning. The backs of his legs were sweaty and stuck to the slats of his chair, there was sand caked heavily between his toes and he was certain the humidity had long since made an impressive afro of his hair. At least, he consoled himself, there was no one around to see him and his current state of imperfection could be nothing more than a dirty little secret he could take to his grave.

He settled his sunglasses along the bridge of his nose and picked up the magazine he'd been flipping through before the incoming tide had forced him to pick up his camp and move it further away from the water. Toes tapping to the music he listened to, he cocked his head to examine a Dolce & Gabbana ad. He considered what a model's life might be like. The glamour and the excitement and the endless parade of pretty boys in tight clothes. The attention. The very idea made Mizuki's stomach twist, though whether it was due to desire or shame he couldn't have said. Even when the probability of his ever being a pretty boy in a magazine was slim to none, entertaining the fantasy made him almost sick with anticipation and want. But then, many things made him feel that way. Many things that were out of his reach and out of his realm and made him feel as though he would go right out of his mind. Like school and tennis and Yuuta.

Fuji Yuuta.

Faint smile on his lips, thoughts already drifting dangerously into no-man's land, Mizuki let the magazine slip from his fingertips to lay open on his lap, glossy pages lifting at the edges when the breeze picked up for scant, wonderful moments. He turned the volume up, the swell of violins uplifting and inspiring and almost enough to take him away from the unsatisfactory reality of the scorching heat and his frizzy hair and the unavoidable realization that he was the only person on the beach that day who'd come alone.

He'd intended – wanted – to invite Yuuta to join him early that morning, but without tennis to make their togetherness palatable, Mizuki had found himself lacking the courage to simply pick up the phone and make the first move. It was getting closer, the day that Yuuta would outgrow him altogether.

The music crested, mellowed, and Mizuki reluctantly opened his eyes, blinking against the sunlight behind the white sunglasses that possessed far more aesthetic value than any real practical one. And then he blinked again, stomach vaulting to find Yuuta standing less than twenty feet away. Never a big believer in divine providence, Mizuki wasn't sure if having Yuuta delivered so neatly and conveniently was a fantasy come true or a nightmare about to happen. Given his luck, Mizuki was hard-pressed to decide which was the greater likelihood.

Trudging along behind Fuji Shuusuke and the big guy who'd been gagging for him since middle school, Yuuta carried two beach bags and a blanket. None of them carried an umbrella and Mizuki smiled a little, anticipating the sunburn that Fuji would likely suffer.

Yuuta wore a tank-top. It was just that much too big and slipped away from Yuuta's shoulder when he stooped to lay the blanket in the sand. Mizuki swallowed. Hard.

In two years, Yuuta would graduate. A far cry from the uncertain boy Mizuki had first known, he'd grown up tall and strong and forthright. Emphasis on the tall and strong. It was disheartening to realize that while Mizuki had so busied himself with Yuuta's grooming toward perfection, he'd somehow neglected to better himself. He was a bit taller, yes, but no more developed than he'd been three years ago. Inside or out.

Fuji's teammate helped Yuuta spread the blanket out on the sand, Fuji kneeling on one side to rummage through one of the beach bags when they were done. His teammate was by his side, immediately attentive and happy to sit at his elbow and make small talk. Yuuta stood, hand shielding his eyes from the sun as he gazed out toward the sea. To Mizuki's consternation, he wasn't the only one to notice the figure that Yuuta made. Whether it was real or entirely put-upon, his seeming disinterest in the people around him only served to garner the attention of more than one girl lounging in the sand.

He frowned, noticing a group of girls point and giggle, blushing and nudging each other when Yuuta stretched lazily before tugging his shirt over his head in one fluid motion. Mizuki's heartbeat picked up. Fuji and his friend paid no attention.

With an aside to his brother, Yuuta strode away from their blanket, sure steady footsteps between groups of people and their tiny camps. Once in the surf he picked up his pace, jogging out into the water until he could run no further. In one perfect moment, he dove forward to disappear beneath the swell of a wave and Mizuki found himself holding his breath. He didn't let it out again until Yuuta surfaced, face tipped to the sun and waterslick. Even in the distance, Yuuta's smile was visible and something in Mizuki's chest seemed to waver, threatening to give. Yuuta's smile was a rare and genuine thing and there had been no end to the manipulation and subterfuge on Mizuki's part that had gone into the simple act of trying to call one forth. Every once in a while, Mizuki got lucky, but those moments were few and far between and entirely accidental, besides. Manipulating Yuuta into doing his bidding was easy enough. Manipulating his feelings was something quite different.

Absently, Mizuki rubbed sunblock into his skin and attempted to use the remainder to smooth his hair down a bit. While he doubted Yuuta would notice until Mizuki made a concerted effort to make him notice, anything was possible. Mizuki would not be caught off guard.

***

"Have you heard back from any universities, Fujiko?" Kawamura asked, taking a knife out of his pocket to slice an apple. Fuji watched, interested, and shrugged in answer.

"No."

"No?" Kawamura repeated, disbelieving. "Oishi and Momo have received their letters."

"Did Momo get in?" Fuji asked, accepting an apple slice when Kawamura offered.

"Well, no," Kawamura said. "But I think he's going to try for vocational school."

Fuji laughed. "Things will turn out," he answered cryptically.

Chewing in silence for a few moments, it became obvious to Fuji that there was more Kawamura wanted to say, but had not yet worked up the nerve. He was like that, sometimes, apprehensive about things that he shouldn't be. Kawamura was big, powerful, true. There was nothing in life that should make him afraid and, yet, Fuji knew that he would never, ever change. In twenty years – thirty – he would still be the same old Taka-san that Fuji had always known.

"Besides," he went on. "You have to apply to a university to hear back from one."

Kawamura's expression, wide-eyed and shocked into silence, made Fuji laugh and he plucked the apple from Kawamura's hand to slice it himself.

"But Fujiko-chan," Kawamura began. "You can't just not go. What about the future? What about your career?"

"Career?" Fuji asked lightly, holding up an apple slice and evading when Kawamura attempted to take it with his fingers. Blushing all the while, but as docile as a little lamb, he leaned forward to take it between his lips, careful not to touch Fuji's fingertips. Fuji smiled. "I don't have a career. I've never seen the world, Taka-san. How can I know what my whole life should be?"

Speechless, Kawamura shook his head in objection. Fuji patted his knee benignly. "Don't worry, Taka-san. I'll figure it out. And while I'm doing that, maybe I'll try my hand at restaurant work, ne?"

It took a moment for his insinuation to hit home, and Fuji doubted that the rise of color to Kawamura's cheeks had anything at all to do with bashfulness this time. It was good for Kawamura, he thought, to allow himself to ruffled up and shaken out of his comfort zone. Scandalized he might be, that Fuji was opting against an immediate attendance to any university, but not so much so that he would talk himself out of additional time spent with Fuji. Kawamura was no fool; Fuji liked that about him.

"Hey," he said, lifting his chin. "Isn't that Mizuki Hajime?"

"Where?" Kawamura asked, glancing around.

"There," Fuji pointed. "Looking like Michael Jackson over there under that big purple umbrella," he said. "Yuuta will be pleased."

Before he could get the entire sentence out, Yuuta stood over him, blocking the sun. He dripped water on the blanket, onto Fuji's legs and Fuji smiled up at him sweetly. Stretching his leg, he stroked the side of Yuuta's ankle with his toes and laughed to himself when Yuuta quickly put several inches between them. "I said your coach is over there, hiding out. I can't believe you didn't see him, Yuuta."

Frowning, angry to realize that not only did his brother remember Mizuki's name, but that he was mean-spirited enough to compare him to Michael Jackson, Yuuta forgot to feel anxious. Mizuki-san. Just a few feet away, hiding himself away from the sun and flipping through a fashion magazine. His hair was curlier than usual and his eyes were hidden behind an oversized pair of white sunglasses. It was only his luck that he would run into Mizuki-san while his brother was with him. There would be little enjoyment in their meeting today, of that Yuuta was certain.

"I can't believe you remembered his name," Yuuta returned dryly. Fuji smiled innocuously, seemingly unconcerned.

"It just came to me suddenly. Isn't that strange?"

"Mm. Strange," Yuuta echoed faintly. He stared at Mizuki, watched him fidget with his magazine and the sandals on his feet. His throat tightened. "Aniki," Yuuta said sternly. "You leave Mizuki-san alone, okay?"

"Leave him alone? Why wouldn't I?"

"None of your nonsense today," Yuuta warned, pointing at Fuji in accusation. "You go out of your way to give him a hard time every chance you get."

"Which isn't so often," Fuji pointed out. "And besides, Yuuta, I thought he liked it that way."

"Aniki," Yuuta warned again.

"Okay, okay," Fuji finally relented, popping another apple slice into his mouth and nudging the sunblock in Kawamura's direction.

Needing no further instruction, Kawamura squeezed some into his palm and rubbed his hands together, unsure as to where he should start.

"Shoulders first, Taka-san," Fuji told him. "I burn easily, you know."

Yuuta turned away, his irritation climbing until he drew closer to Mizuki. And when he did – get close – he smiled.

***

Shit, Mizuki thought. Shitshitshitshit. Of all the beaches in all the world, it was Mizuki's that he had to walk across. But that was too dramatic and hadn't he been hoping to see Yuuta anyway? And then there was that smile to think about...

"Mizuki-san," he said warmly, standing over Mizuki with his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his shorts. His hair was spikywet and Mizuki noticed the faint freckles across the bridge of his nose. If he'd been standing, his knees might have wobbled.

"Hello, Yuuta," he said, sitting up straighter and bumping his head against the umbrella. "I wasn't expecting to see you today."

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Yuuta looked uncomfortable and began to wonder if perhaps he was the only one to feel glad that they'd run into one another. "Yes, well..."

"I would have called," Mizuki was quick to add. "If I'd known you were free."

Yuuta blushed and shifted his weight again, dripping water onto Mizuki's legs as he'd dripped onto Fuji's only moments before. The only difference was that he wasn't sure he'd dart out of the way if Mizuki stretched his cute, pale toes to touch Yuuta's leg. "Really?"

Just beyond Yuuta, Mizuki noticed Fuji staring intently at them and he looked away uncomfortably.

"Mizuki-san," Yuuta began earnestly. "Should I go? I didn't mean to bother you."

"No," Mizuki said quickly. "It's just..."

"What is it?" Yuuta asked, all solicitousness.

Mizuki hesitated, glancing once again at Fuji's teammate who was, at that moment, rubbing sunblock into Fuji's back with an expression of such intense concentration that nothing seemed able to distract him.

Slowly, Mizuki glanced up at Yuuta, lowering his sunglasses to allow Yuuta to see the distress there in his eyes. Almost immediately, Yuuta knelt in the sand before him, every bit as focused on Mizuki as that big tennis player was focused on Fuji.

"Your brother..." Mizuki began, glancing away again.

"Aw, he won't bother you, Mizuki-san. He's busy."

When Mizuki still seemed undecided, Yuuta plucked the magazine away from Mizuki's lap and lay it aside carefully. "Come for a swim with me," Yuuta said. "It feels good."

"I'm not a very good swimmer," Mizuki lied. "I usually don't go in."

"That's okay, Mizuki-san," Yuuta said, eyes bright. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Yuuta stood then, stepping back to allow him some space and Mizuki took the opportunity to offer Fuji a smirk. He pretended not to notice, but Mizuki knew better.

He stood, slow to ease his shirt over his head. He was pale and a bit on the scrawny side beneath his clothes, but Mizuki didn't miss the expression that crossed Yuuta's face before he glanced quickly away, cheeks flushed and eyes averted. For a moment, Mizuki was tempted to shuck his shorts as well – the tiny little shorts beneath would have given Yuuta something to think about long after the day was over – but Mizuki didn't want to play all his cards with the first hand.

Dropping his sunglasses onto his blanket and covering his belongings with his shirt, Mizuki turned to smile up at Yuuta. "Yuuta-kun," he said, voice low.

Yuuta glanced over hesitantly, expression veiled, and Mizuki smirked at him. "Race you."

And then he was gone, darting across the sand before Yuuta had time to register what had happened. Still and all, he gave chase, laughing when he sprinted past his brother to kick up a little sand onto their blanket.

"Wait for me, Mizuki-san!" he yelled. It was odd, he realized, to find himself running after Mizuki Hajime this way. Somehow, he never imagined Mizuki would start the race.

***

"You don't want to swim, Fujiko?" Kawamura asked, lowering the bottle and tilting his head in question the way Fuji often did.

"No," Fuji said. "Yuuta wants his space. I'll give it to him."

"Why did you come out today, then?" Kawamura asked.

But Fuji glanced over his shoulder, then, smile bright. "Because you asked me to, Taka-san."

Kawamura grew still, Fuji's proximity a real threat to his ability to function normally. "That's all?" he managed.

Fuji tilted his head, enchanting, pensive, beguiling. "Isn't that reason enough?"

Kawamura blinked, lips parted as though he intended to speak. Rational thought, however, was not so readily available. "Fujiko-chan," he murmured, bottle of sunblock slipping out of his hands to land between them.

"Hm?" Fuji prompted, the curve of his neck inviting Kawamura's attention.

"I..." Kawamura began again.

"Taka-san," Fuji said, voice soft the way it sometimes was when they were alone. Until now, Kawamura had been unable to work out just what that tone meant. Now, however, in this moment – after so long – it was becoming clear enough. How typical that he would suddenly just get it when they were surrounded by hundreds of strangers. Hundreds of heterosexual strangers.

"We can't do this here," Fuji murmured, his gaze already dropping to Kawamura's mouth, his shoulders, his broad chest and strong arms.

"Where can we do it?" Kawamura was quick to answer, shocked at his eagerness, his lack of decency and consideration. He found that he simply couldn't care about decency. Not when Fuji was looking at him like he wanted to eat him alive. Horny trumped humiliation. Every single time.

"Follow me," Fuji said, getting to his feet easily and striding away from the blanket. He didn't look back, satisfied that Kawamura would follow. Kawamura did, though he didn't have as easy a go at it as Fuji seemed. His dick felt like glass.

"Fujiko," Kawamura called out, nearly stumbling. "Wait for me!"

The sand was hot.

***

Mizuki bobbed along like a cork, trying to remember when he'd last heard of any shark attacks along these beaches. Yuuta stuck close by him, surprisingly light-hearted and happy to float and splash and ignore the people around them.

"Doesn't this feel good, Mizuki-san?" he called out, splashing water in Mizuki's direction before disappearing beneath the water's surface again. Mizuki contemplated faking a cramp to see if Yuuta would hold him tightly. They could bob together.

Before he could bother, however, he looked up to notice Yuuta's brother wandering away from the beach with his loverboy just on his heels. Peering out at them, Mizuki bobbed lazily and watched the two boys round a corner and disappear.

Paddling up beside him, Yuuta wiped the water from his eyes and frowned. "Is something wrong, Mizuki-san?"

Startling, Mizuki glanced over, suddenly hot when Yuuta floated even closer to him. Yuuta's arm brushed his own and Mizuki shivered. "Hm. Yuuta, wouldn't you like a shaved ice? I'm thirsty."

Yuuta shrugged. "I dunno. I don't have much money, Mizuki-san."

"Oh," Mizuki said, disappointment heavy in the tone of his voice. "Okay, then."

Yuuta frowned again, brows drawn. "I'll get some from Aniki. We'll probably have to share, though."

Mizuki smiled then. "I don't mind."

Craning his neck, Yuuta peered up onto the beach. "Where did they go?"

"I think I just saw them leave," Mizuki said. "Perhaps they went for a shaved ice, as well?"

"Let's go, then." Yuuta said, hooking a finger in Mizuki's beltloop and pulling him along as he waded toward the shore.

Managing to repress the little squawk of surprise that very nearly escaped him, Mizuki floated along behind Yuuta and hoped he didn't have any trouble locating Fuji. Because boys didn't go to the bathroom together like girls did. Well, unless they had a very specific reason to do so, anyway.

"Yuuta?" Mizuki began innocently. "What's Fuji-kun's boyfriend's name?"

"Huh?" Yuuta grunted, only half-listening. "Oh. It's Kawamura. Aniki calls him Taka-san."

***

"Oh, Taka-san."

"Shh, Fujiko," Kawamura warned, big hands hot at the small of Fuji's back while he sucked his neck and bit his earlobe. "Someone will hear us."

With one arm wound firmly about Kawamura's neck, Fuji tipped his head back and popped the top button of Kawamura's shorts. "No one's here," Fuji assured him, stroking his belly with the backs of his fingers. "Hurry."

'Why now?' Kawamura wanted to know. After so much time and so much uncertainty, Fuji had flipped a switch and upended everything. It was silly to be surprised – this was Fuji Shuusuke, after all – but Kawamura couldn't help feeling as though he were in the middle of a very delicious, very forbidden sort of dream and any minute he'd wake up with Fuji's name on his lips and his own jizz drying on his belly. It wouldn't be the first time, that was for sure.

"Is this for real?" he asked, gripping Fuji's hips and pressing hot and tight against him.

"Feels real," Fuji gasped, fingertips dipping beneath Kawamura's waistband. "Touch me, Taka-san."

Rubbing the front of Fuji's shorts with the flat of his hand, Kawamura grunted and arched toward Fuji. "Will it last?"

Hitching one leg high on Kawamura's hip, Fuji slipped his hand into Kawamura's shorts and kissed his mouth hard. Kawamura groaned, one arm tight at Fuji's waist when he parted his lips the way Fuji wanted him to.

"It might," Fuji whispered. "But I won't."

***

"In here?" Yuuta asked. "Are you sure?"

Mizuki shrugged, eyes wide under damp, curly bangs. "I think so. Maybe they went to the bathroom?"

Yuuta appeared perplexed. "I guess so. It's not like him, though. He'd tell me if they were going someplace."

"Nfu, Yuuta. So over-protective."

"What? I am not!" Yuuta said, cheeks pink. He blushed an even darker shade of pink when several of the shop's patron's glanced at him.

"Excuse me," he said, approaching the shop clerk while Mizuki perused all the cheap little beach souvenirs and over-priced towels and t-shirts. One of them had a crude drawing of a woman perched over a man's head and the caption read 'From MySpace to MyFace.' Mizuki frowned. Honestly.

"Do you have a public restroom?"

The clerk nodded, jerking his head toward the back of the store. "Back there. Behind the dressing room."

"Thank you," Yuuta said, bowing his thanks before turning away.

"You might want to wait a minute, though," the clerk called out. "Couple of kids just went back there."

The look on Yuuta's face, when he sought Mizuki's face, was priceless.

"Guess we're in the right place," Mizuki said smoothly, ushering Yuuta toward the back of the store. "Maybe I'll try on a t-shirt, ne, Yuuta?"

"I told you I'm broke, Mizuki-san," Yuuta groused. "Just come on and let's find Aniki."

That he also thought something untoward might be going on was evident to Mizuki. It was positively delightful, in fact, and Mizuki was surprised and pleased at how interesting and enjoyable the day had turned out. If he could just wrangle a quick feel out of Yuuta, Mizuki felt as though things might get back on track again.

He grabbed a t-shirt off the rack and glanced back to make sure the store clerk wasn't watching. Satisfied that he was properly distracted by the two girls in bikini tops at the front of the store, Mizuki grabbed Yuuta by the wrist and tugged him into the tiny little dressing room, snapping the curtain shut behind them.

"Mizuki-san!" Yuuta began, quieting when Mizuki clapped a hand over his mouth. Leaning in close, the coat hanger between them stabbing Yuuta in the ribs, Mizuki hissed into his ear. "Shhh."

Yuuta froze, likely wanting to demand what in the world was going on, but too distracted by Mizuki's lips so close to his ear to work out an entire coherent sentence.

"Yuuuuuta," he murmured, his words muffled by the faint mumbling and scuffling on the other side of the wall. "Listen."

There was a long, low moan followed by a softer, higher pitched sound. "Taka-san. I'm coming. I'm coming..."

Eyes wide now, Yuuta remained silent behind Mizuki's hand. Stock-still, his breath was warm and damp against Mizuki's palm and, after a moment, Mizuki dropped the coat hanger. The t-shirt lay over their feet and Mizuki leaned into Yuuta, one hand splayed against his chest. They stared at one another, barely breathing, though neither said a single word.

The murmurs on the other side of the wall continued, brief snatches of conversation broken periodically by Fuji's soft, satisfied hums of pleasure when they kissed. The door opened and Fuji sighed happily.

"A shaved ice would be nice, ne, Taka-san?"

"Ah, sure, okay," Kawamura agreed, sounding a bit dazed. "What flavor?"

"Mm," Fuji mused. "Do you think they have banana?"

"We can ask," Kawamura responded as they passed by the dressing room.

Inching the curtain aside, Mizuki and Yuuta peeked out to watch Fuji and Kawamura sally past, Kawamura's hand resting casually on Fuji's bottom as they made their way through the aisles of tacky beachwear and plastic bags of blow-up pool floats.

Closing the curtain again, Mizuki turned his attention to Yuuta once again. "Well," he said.

"Yeah," Yuuta agreed. "Well."

"That was unexpected," Mizuki said, when it was anything but. He wouldn't say so to Yuuta, though.

"Yeah," Yuuta echoed again, sounding as dazed as Kawamura had moments before.

"Does it bother you?" Mizuki asked, hesitant, whisper-quiet. They didn't have much time, Mizuki knew and if ever wanted to get anywhere with Yuuta, he needed to make this one count.

"Well...yeah," Yuuta finally answered, sounding confused and a bit disgusted.

Mizuki forgot to breathe, his heart sinking, his hopes crumbling. "Oh."

He had to move away. He had to put some space between them and pretend that nothing had changed. He had to treat Yuuta as he always had. He had to let him go.

"I mean, it's my brother, Mizuki-san. And that's creepy. He was...he said..."

Yuuta trailed off, leaning his forehead against Mizuki's shoulder and seeming to be in no hurry to move away. "I'm going to have nightmares for the rest of my life. I'll have to have therapy."

"Yuuta," Mizuki whispered, fingers already curling against Yuuta's chest, Yuuta's heartbeat strong and true against the pulse in Mizuki's wrist. He lifted his head, though, so close to Mizuki when they looked at one another. The lighting was dim at the back of the store and the shadows just made everything better. For once, Mizuki didn't mind standing in the shadows. Not when Yuuta seemed content to stand there with him.

Tilting his head, Mizuki took a step forward, one foot between both of Yuuta's. "If you don't want to kiss me, you'd better get out fast."

Unable to answer – perhaps he was simply unwilling – Yuuta merely stared back at Mizuki. "Mizuki-san?"

Against his mouth, not yet touching his lips, Mizuki laughed. "Nfu. You're like your brother, Yuuta."

"What?" Yuuta murmured blankly, too distracted to follow too closely.

"Mizuki-san," Mizuki echoed, a perfect pitch, mimicking Fuji's familiar 'Taka-san'.

"Shut up," Yuuta said, brows drawn in irritation when he gripped the back of Mizuki's neck but made no move to close the distance between them. He knew Mizuki better than anyone else in the world. Knew that he needed to push boundaries and set them and then be given the freedom to tear them all down again. Even so, Yuuta wondered what, exactly, they'd been waiting for.

"You gonna kiss me or what?" he asked, challenging the way only Yuuta could and somehow still manage to make Mizuki want to respond favorably.

"Yeah," he whispered, fingers inching along the back of Yuuta's neck and into the short strands of his hair. "I am."

And then he did.

~end~

Cool Off, Sabrina!

senshixdoukeshi — Fri, 12 Sep 2008 03:17:01 GMT

Recipient: Sabrina (jupiter_star)
Title: Star-Crossed Lovers
Rating: PG
Pairings: IbuKamio, Golden Pair
Beta: Natalie
Disclaimer: These characters are not mine, and I am making no profit off of them, nor do I stand to make any profit from this fanfiction.
Author’s Notes: Whenever I tried to do just the Golden Pair, it kept turning angsty, so this is the best I could do. I hope you like it!

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It had been three days, and Shinji still wasn’t talking.

Naturally, this was something that Kamio thought was a matter of concern. Shinji not talking was sort of like the sun rising in the west; unheard-of and more than a little worrying. Kamio, being a concerned best friend, had done everything in his power to get Shinji to talk, up to and including offering to talk about Shinji’s feelings (emotions being one of the things Kamio normally tried to avoid discussing, as then he’d have to think about his own, and that wasn’t something he liked doing), but to no avail. Shinji remained stubbornly, frustratingly, worryingly silent.

Which led Kamio to his option of last resort: Tachibana An.

Not to say he disliked the girl; even after his crush on her had faded, he still counted An as one of his best friends. However, a conversation with An—especially one that led to needing some sort of advice—was exhausting at the best of times. Plus, she had a habit of picking up on the blatantly obvious, and Kamio really didn’t want to analyzed just yet. Still, with a silent best friend, and being all out of ideas, he had no other choice.

He managed to corner An on the street courts one afternoon, taking a seat next to her as she was watching Shinji and Echizen waging one of their never-ending wars over grip tape, and told her the story. “And now I have no idea what to do,” he finished.

“Hmmm.” An took a sip from her water bottle as she watched Shinji. “Yeah, he has been really quiet, hasn’t he? He’s even throwing Echizen-kun off his game a little.” She took another swallow of water. “Maybe it’s the heat. It’s been so hot this summer.”

Kamio tried not to roll his eyes. “If it was just the heat, we’d all not be talking. And he’s playing tennis just fine.”

“Point, point….” An was quiet as she considered all angles of the problem, then her face lit up. “I got it!”

“You do?” Kamio knew he sounded pathetically hopeful, but he couldn’t be bothered to care.

An nodded. “It’s so simple…Shinji-kun’s in love!” She sighed. “An unrequited passion….”

That time, Kamio did roll his eyes, and he snorted. “Shinji? In love? Come on, An-chan. Can you at least try to be serious?”

“I am being serious!” An pouted. “You can’t say it’s not a possibility. People act different when they’re in love and can’t have who they want.”

“That’s ridiculous!”

“Actually, she has a point,” a new voice interrupted.

Kamio turned around, his eyes widening some in surprise. “Seigaku’s Golden Pair….” He watched as the redhead—Kikumaru—bounced off to go cheer on Echizen, and turned back to face his partner. “A point?” he asked dumbly.

“Yes…do you mind if I join you?”

An nodded and gestured to the bench. “Please, Oishi-san.”

Trust An-chan to know all the Seigaku regulars, Kamio thought as he shifted on the bench to make room for Oishi. Makes sense, though, if she’s dating Momoshiro….

Oishi took the seat with a nod of thanks. “Tachibana-chan does have a point. There are people who act differently when they’re in love and no one knows it.” He looked over at Kikumaru, a fond smile on his face. “For example, Eiji got very…quiet, too. He started picking fights with me, and avoiding me altogether. Avoiding everyone, actually. Not like Eiji at all.”

“Really?” Kamio tried to act casual, but in reality, he was fascinated. “And what did you do to find this out?”

“I cornered him and demanded to know his problem.” Oishi blushed. “Eiji…is really an open person, so I didn’t think he would try to hide anything from me. I have to admit, I didn’t expect to be kissed like he kissed me, but it worked out well in the end.” Oishi’s eyes found Kikumaru again, chuckling when he pounced on Echizen. “He was in love with me, and afraid to show it.”

An sighed. “That’s so sweet…!” She looked over at Kamio. “See! Shinji-kun could be in love!”

Kamio blushed, scowling a little. “No way! Besides, I already asked him what’s eating him. He’s not saying a word to me.”

“But he is saying a word to someone else.” Oishi pointed down at the courts.

Kamio followed Oishi’s finger, saw Shinji talking with Echizen and Kikumaru, and felt his heart sink. “Yeah, so maybe I’m a bad friend.”

Oishi chuckled. “Eiji could get a rock to talk. He can get Tezuka to talk, so getting Ibu-kun to talk isn’t a problem.” He bit his lip, thinking. “Maybe that’s what Ibu-kun needs. Someone new to talk to.”

Kamio frowned. “Ain’t nothing he can say to anyone else that he can’t say to me,” he stated, crossing his arms stubbornly.

Oishi seemed to size up Kamio’s discomfort in a moment, exchanging a knowing smile with An. “And I don’t think he’d talk freely to a stranger. Maybe he just needs someone to break the ice?”

“Yeah, who?” Kamio scowled, not even realizing his aggressive body language. “Nothing no one can do that I can’t.” He greatly disliked the idea that anyone outside of Fudomine could do anything for Shinji.

“Bring Ibu-kun, and meet Eiji and I here at 7 tonight. If Ibu-kun doesn’t talk after an evening with us, then nothing will make him talk.” Oishi smiled at Kamio, nodded at An, and then went to go collect his boyfriend before he could strangle Echizen.

Kamio blinked, turning slowly to look at An. “What…just happened?”

An beamed at him. “It’s so cute! You’re going on a double date with Oishi-san and Kikumaru-san!”

“Double…date…?” Kamio flushed bright red and shook his head. “An-chan! It can’t be a double date! We’re not even dating!”

“But you want to be.” An nodded. “I can see it in your eyes. Come on, Akira-kun! It’s a date with Shinji-kun, and a chance to find out what’s wrong with him.” She winked. “Maybe he’s in love with you!”

“An-chan!” Kamio sputtered, turning away to hide his expression. I’m not that lucky…. He watched as Oishi said a few words to Shinji, then looked away again when he saw Shinji’s head turn in his direction. But…maybe…it can be fun? If he talks, it’s good enough for me. Even if he really is in love with someone…else….

Kamio tried his best to convince himself of that.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Well, as evenings go, this was a complete disaster, Kamio thought later, staring at the drink in his hand. And why am I still holding onto this? I don’t even like lemonade! He looked over at the teenager sitting next to him. That’s right; he bought it for me.

Even Kamio had to admit, the night hadn’t started out badly. Surprisingly—to him, anyway—Shinji had been more than willing to come out with him, and he’d even been a little less quiet than he had been of late. Not much, but enough to make Kamio think that he was doing the right thing. Kamio had started to relax, sure that nothing could possibly go wrong.

A feeling that he lost as soon as he and Shinji approached the street courts.

When Shinji spotted Kikumaru and Oishi, clearly waiting for them, the look Shinji shot Kamio was one of pure venom. He clammed up at that point, barely saying a word to anyone, no matter what they did. He had been silent though dinner, silent while walking through a street fair (where he had at least unbent enough to get the aforementioned lemonades), and now, was silent in the park.

Kamio had never been more miserable in his entire life.

He watched as Kikumaru dragged Shinji out into a clearing, pointing up at the sky and rambling about…something that Kamio couldn’t hear, pointing up at the sky enthusiastically. “I don’t know why he’s bothering,” Kamio muttered. “It’s Tokyo; who can see stars.”

“But it’s fun to try.”

Kamio looked up at Oishi sourly. “This was your idea,” he pointed out. “And it’s sucked. Not happy with you right now.”

“Not completely.” Oishi smiled almost enigmatically. “I was watching Ibu-kun…do you know how possessive he is of you?”

“Possessive? Of me?” Kamio shook his head. “You’re insane.”

Oishi chuckled. “I think he was upset because he wanted to be alone with you. There’s only one way to find out.”

“What do you mean?”

“Figure it out.” Oishi stood, going over to Kikumaru and murmuring in his ear, then drawing him over to another part of the clearing and down to the ground. They immediately began looking at the sky and talking in soft voices.

Shinji was left alone.

Looking at Shinji, Kamio felt a sudden clenching in his stomach. He’s got to be wrong…right? I mean, he can’t possibly have wanted to be with just me tonight, but…I don’t know. He groaned, realizing there was only one way to find out for sure.

“Hey, Shinji?” Kamio came up behind Shinji, touching his arm carefully.

“They’re kissing.”

Kamio blinked. “I—what?”

“Oishi-san and Kikumaru-san. They’re kissing. Isn’t it a little rude, to be doing that in public, and it’s so hot out, can they really like being all over each other like that, though if Kikumaru-san loses his shirt like it looks like he’s going to, I guess that will make it a bit cooler….”

Kamio blushed, refusing to look in the direction that Shinji was, and desperate for distraction, turned his attention to the sky instead. “Wow…you can see stars. That seems wrong.”

Shinji blinked, focusing on Kamio, rather than the making out going on nearby. “Wrong?”

“Yeah!” Kamio smiled in relief, glad to be able to run with this topic. “Isn’t it supposed to be really hazy in summer? Not to mention the lights from the city and the fact that it rains a lot.” He flopped down onto the ground, and, slowly, Shinji joined him. “But there they are. Stars.”

“And the moon. It’s nicest when it’s not quite full, I think.” Shinji leaned back onto his elbows, staring at the sky.

“Yeah, the moon’s nice too.” Kamio smiled, glad that they were both finally relaxing. “Hey, Shin, you know about the constellations, right? I mean, the legends and all?”

Shinji gave Kamio a blank look. “No. I know the stars, not legends.” He was quiet for a moment. “Tell me some?”

Kamio blinked, surprised, then relaxing into a smile. “Yeah, sure….” In a voice that was softer than normal, Kamio began telling some of his favorite summer legends, pointing to the few stars that were visible as a guide for his words.

Some time later, Kamio’s voice trailed off, and he found himself looking over at Shinji. At some point, Shinji had stretched full-out onto the grass. His eyes were closed, and his breathing slow and even. He fell asleep…I should wake him up, get him home…but he looks so peaceful like this, so handsome….

Kamio knew it was wrong, but it didn’t stop him from shifting, moving closer and closer to Shinji. One kiss…just one…and then I’ll wake him and be just his friend again. Only one kiss…. Softly, Kamio’s lips brushed Shinji’s, lingering.

Shinji’s eyes fluttered open, meeting Kamio’s gaze.

Kamio pulled back like he had been stung, flushing scarlet and stammering. “Shinji! I—I’m sorry! I didn’t mean—I mean, you looked so—and I all I wanted was—AAARGH!” He couldn’t repress his scream of frustration as he looked away from his best friend, ashamed. “Shinji….”

“I was hoping you’d do that.”

“Huh?” Kamio blinked, sure he was hearing Shinji wrong, turning back to face him in his shock.

“I’ve been waiting for you to make a move.” Shinji remained laying on the grass, looking up at Kamio with solemn, steady eyes. “I know you like me, and I like you, too, but I had no idea how to tell you, so it seemed easier to not tell you and hope you could bridge that gap since you’re better with emotions and all, but you just acted weirder around me, and then you asked me out which I liked, but you really didn’t, so I was upset and thought that maybe you didn’t really like me like that or want to be alone with me or anything, but you just kissed me, so I’m hoping that means that you really do like me and weren’t just moved by that romance story you were telling.” Shinji propped himself up some. “Do you?”

Kamio blinked. He…he likes me…wanted to be with just me…so I was right, the double date was a bad idea, but…. Suddenly, he realized that Shinji might actually like an answer. “I…yeah. I like you, Shinji. I mean, I really do. A lot. And—“

Kamio was cut off when Shinji’s lips covered his own. His eyes widened in surprise, but he relaxed quickly, his eyes closing and he pressed into the kiss softly, letting Shinji lead it however he liked.

After some time, Shinji pulled back slowly, licking his lips. He gave Kamio a small smile. “Akira, want to go with me to the beach tomorrow, just the two of us?”

It was on the tip of Kamio’s tongue to refuse. He liked the beach, but burned badly every time. He was about to, but two things occurred to him at the same time. One, Shinji was asking him out on a date. And, two, he’d have the chance to see Shinji in a bathing suit and nothing else.

With those opportunities, a sunburn seemed like a small price to pay. “Hell yes!”

Kamio leaned in and kissed Shinji again, glad that something had turned out right, after all.

--The End--

Cool off, Andie!

solanum_d — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 13:08:42 GMT

Recipient: _pseudonym
Title: Stumble Upon
Beta: ratteta
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Jiroh&co. belong to Konomi. Not me.
Pairing: Atobe/Jiroh
Warnings: Fluff. Weirdness. Long paragraphs :)
Summary: Jiroh is feeling introspective. Atobe kidnaps him.

Stumble Upon

Jiroh could never sleep when it rained. The pitter-pat of water on the rooftops tap-danced across his spine, sang a song in his veins that filled him with a crackling energy normally to be found only on the tennis court (or in the presence of really good sukiyaki). On those rainy days, he would fidget nervously in class, eyes wide and fever bright, while the teachers, unaccustomed to a student they rarely saw awake, stumbled and stammered through their lessons.

Later, under the cover of Hyotei’s lavish indoor gymnasium, he would take out his energy on his teammates, flinging himself around the court with wild abandon until the polished oak floor was streaked with rubbery residue and Gakuto was sulking in the locker rooms. Then Atobe would catch him in mid-leap or mid-stumble, arms easily circling Jiroh’s skinny waist as he declared that that was quite enough of that for one practice, Akutagawa-kun, and did he really need to be reminded of it yet again? And Jiroh would grin and murmur, “gomen, gomen, Atobe-sama” and revel in the warm rumble of Atobe’s chuckle against his chest, dark and staccato like rain falling on a deep lake.

Later still, he would lie awake in Keigo’s bed and watch him sleep, as Keigo must have done to him a thousand more times in his turn. His eyes would linger on the soft corners of Keigo’s mouth, which, waking lifted only to sneer or smirk, were smoothed over by the carelessness of sleep. Jiroh could kiss the rounded edges of those lips whenever he wished, while Keigo slept, so softly that the other boy would never stir.

Jiroh wondered from time to time if he didn’t love his sleeping Keigo most of all, more than he ever loved the waking one. Many people loved Atobe-sama, after all: the girls who made him bento and the ones who wished they could; the kouhai who idolized him; the teachers who respected him; the teammates who offered him their loyalty on the field every day. But Jiroh was quite sure he was the only one who loved Keigo, and gave him secret, silent kisses in the small hours of the rain.

At other times, however, Jiroh was certain that there could be none more beautiful than the sloe-eyed, aristocratic Atobe who swept through the world by day, his arms full of grand gestures and his mouth with honeyed words. Jiroh never saw him but through a foggy lens of half-wakefulness, when some small thing roused him from his slumber, or in stolen moments bounded by the buzz of tennis. He thought it rather telling that those moments were more than enough. It was Atobe he rested his head on when the bleachers were too cold and his jersey too thin. Atobe who made sure he didn’t sleep through the important classes—and, once in a while, that the classes he had slept through weren’t important ones.

Atobe who had slipped him, sleepy and trusting, into a sunrise jet headed south, and Atobe who kissed him on Koya Mountain before sundown, while the spirit festival played itself out at their feet. Jiroh could still feel the residue of that kiss on his lips, growing nearly stronger than the kiss itself as the sun sank and he felt himself come alive again. He sat up, slipping his shoulder from under Atobe’s arm and wrapping his arm around the other boy’s shoulder in turn. His boyfriend smiled and curled up against him obediently, eyes just beginning to grow heavy and sleepy.

“Aoba Matsuri is an incredibly famous festival,” he informed Jiroh, as though Jiroh didn’t know it himself. By now, Jiroh made the translation automatically: “Did you enjoy it?”

“I had a lot of fun,” he replied, running his fingers through Atobe’s silvery hair. In the reddish light at the top of the mountain, it was dyed nearly the same shade as his own. “Although—do you really think it was all right when I fell asleep inside the palanquin?”

“It was a comfortable cushion,” Atobe declared loftily, and squirmed a little.

“I wish I could have come up there with you.”

Jiroh blinked. Atobe was the sort who could feel a pea through a mountain of mattresses, but he would normally lie limp as an old blanket on those rare occasions when he could use Jiroh for a pillow. Now he was fidgeting as much as Jiroh himself did, his shoulders digging into the other boy’s stomach as too-sharp hipbones rubbed against each other.

“All our residences are staffed year round, you know.”

And now Jiroh knew why Atobe was so fidgety. He waited as the sun sank slowly under the mountains, like a yellow drop of butter falling onto a pancake. Then he stretched and rolled over, chuckling when his boyfriend yelped at being trapped beneath him.

“Don’t worry,” he said, planting an easy kiss on Atobe’s pointed nose. “I’m in no rush to go back and get interrupted.”

That was the last thing either of them said for quite a while.

* * *

Afterwards, while Atobe washed—he was fastidious about such things, come hell or freezing mountain water—Jiroh stretched his legs under the faint moonlight. There were many trails up the mountain besides the one they had taken, and it was one of these he wandered along now. It was difficult to see, but the feel wide-leafed forest bracken on either side helped him keep to the path.

Eventually, it led him to the mouth of a low grotto, edges made soft and nearly invisible by overhanging moss. He pushed it aside without thinking, questing fingers quickly finding the wide, worn tablet within. The relief carved in it would have been hard enough to see in daylight; at night it was nearly impossible, but Jiroh got an impression of ripeness, fullness overflowing like water out of a cup. A slow curve might have been the arch of her neck, a rounded place her stomach, rubbed silk smooth by the prayers of hundreds of hands.

Jiroh traced the stone curves with an odd, detached sort of curiosity. There was something there, he was sure, and he wanted to know what it was—

“That’s not a very polite way to touch a lady.”

“Wah!”

Jiroh tried to leap to his feet and spin around at the same moment, and ended up falling flat on his backside instead. The tablet flew up into the air, and the woman who had been standing beside him caught it. She smiled gently at him, her cheeks as round as the full moon. Jiroh cocked his head.

“This isn’t supposed to happen in real life,” he said, though his easy manner gave the lie to his cautious words. “Only in dreams. I should know, I’ve—”

“—had more than your share of them? Well, you should know.” She stepped closer, and then past him into the mouth of the grotto. Propped against another fallen stone, the tablet made a simple seat, which she took with a slight wiggle of her wide hips. Looking at her, Jiroh couldn’t help thinking she should lose about twenty pounds—only he couldn’t decide which bits he thought should be smaller.

“Then don’t,” she suggested, and he started, feeling guilty. Her laugh was loud and rolling, like the sound of waves crashing against smooth rock. Between the clouds and the crescent moon there was little light to see by, but a shaft pierced down now. It struck an overhanging branch, casting a shadow over Jiroh’s face, and carried on to the grotto. Where it struck the lady it almost seemed to pass right through, and Jiroh shivered when he found himself trying to squint through her as well, peering at the carved tablet behind her.
“I meant it, you know,” she informed him. “About not thinking. Pretend it’s a dream, and just go along with it.”

“Along with what?” Jiroh shook his head and stood. “Your being here doesn’t bother me—I’ve seen stranger things, I really have—” the memory of a baseball capped first-year, grinning as he executed a flawless Rondo Toward Destruction, flashed in Jiroh’s mind for a moment, “—but Atobe is going to finish up and come looking for me any minute now.”

She held out no hand to stop him, did not call after him as he turned to go, but he heard her voice in his ear anyway.

“Don’t call him that. Aren’t you the same person now as you are when you’re awake?”

“Um…I am awa—”

* * *

“Wake up, Jiroh!”

“Wstlfgl?”

“Finally!”

Jiroh blinked awake slowly, wincing as the rising sun shafted red light into his eyes. A familiar face swam into view above him and Jiroh pouted, sticking his lower lip out in a way long guaranteed to make his boyfriend’s heart melt.

“Whatcha wakin’ me up fer, Keigo?”

Brown eyes widened for a moment, and then Jiroh gasped as a warm body covered his own, mouth blindly seeking out his and diving into a kiss that would have fried neurons at the best of times.

This early in the morning, Jiroh was in no state to cope.

“Mmm! I—oh god…”

The other boy pulled back, peering at him curiously.

“Did you just…?”

“Don’t rub it in,” Jiroh muttered, covering his face with his hands. “Anyway, what was that for?”

The smile he received was blinding.

“You said my name. You’ve never done that before.”

Jiroh smiled back.

“Sure I have. But only when you’re asleep.”

“What?”

“Don’t think about it,” Jiroh suggested.

And kissed him again. Just to make sure.

-fin-

Cool Off, feuillu!

senshixdoukeshi — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 01:40:58 GMT

Recipient: feuillu
Title: What a man can do, and what a man can't do
Beta: HopePeace
Characters: Kisarazu Ryou, Kisarazu Atsushi, Saeki Koujirou, Yanagisawa Shinya, brief cameos by the rest of Rokkaku
Pairing: Saeki/Ryou, Atsushi/Yanagisawa
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, nor this title. I own nothing but my funky plotbunnies.
Warnings: Gratuitous use of the word 'popsicle'.
Summary: Chiba is stiflingly hot, the walk to the beach is too long, and Ryou is a lazy bum. People attempt to cure him of his laziness.

Having been a Chiba native all of his life, Ryou should have been used to the heat. In most cases, Ryou was used to the heat. There came a point though, when the sun was beating down mercilessly and the wind had stagnated, and the proximity of the ocean was just causing everything to become muggy… Well, that was the point where Ryou couldn't stand the heat. Ryou lay on his side on the porch. In one hand, Ryou held a paper fan, and the other hand was curled loosely around a cool bottle of water covered in perspiration. A small fan buzzed behind him, the streamers attached to the fan's front almost brushing Ryou's back. In the garden cicadas chirped.

"…and that's why you should cut your hair." Atsushi finished a long winded and horribly pointless explanation of why Ryou should cut his hair. When Atsushi's proclamation received no response, Atsushi leaned over Ryou's shoulder, the ends of the red ribbon tied around Atsushi's forehead hung low and tickled at Ryou's nose. Ryou was too hot to even bat away the annoyance. "Hey, Ryou? Are you paying attention?"

Ryou moved his head slightly so he could look up at Atsushi. The messy, careless lump Ryou had gathered his hair into threatened to spill out of the handful of ponytail holders used to keep it in place. "I'm not cutting my hair."

Atsushi rolled his eyes. "I know that."

Ryou lifted the hand with the fan and waved it at Atsushi's direction. "Then stop expelling hot air; Chiba doesn't need any more of it." Ryou let his arm slump back to his side and leaned his head down against the cool wooden floor.

Atsushi stayed quiet for seconds, long enough that Ryou closed his eyes and could almost hope that Atsushi would stay that quiet. Moving to Tokyo had made Atsushi talkative, or maybe it was the knowledge that at the end of the summer he would be heading back to Tokyo and away from his brother. Ryou generally cared about that, he had been making time for Atsushi since summer break began, but right now it was just too damn hot. "Let's go to the beach."

The idea of the beach was a good one, the reality of the beach was not. Ryou briefly weighed the merits of the cool ocean surrounding him to the hot sea of humanity that would be camped out on the sand. Ryou had watched the vacationers, most of them Tokyo pale or worse, trickle in since the weather had gotten nice enough. All the best spots on the beach were taken up by vacationing families or bleached out salary men.

"You go, 'tsushi. I'm too hot." Ryou's fingers clenched around the cold water bottle. Ryou knew he should drink it before it completely lost it's cool, but opening the bottle and lifting it to his lips would just take so much effort. Ryou was so hot even his ass was sweating.

There was a rustle of fabric as Atsushi pushed himself to his feet. "Fine. I'll tell Sae-san that you're being a lazy ass then." It was Atsushi's last ditch effort to get Ryou off the porch floor, and Ryou knew it. Generally Atsushi would use puppy eyes before threatening Ryou with Saeki, but Ryou wasn't going to turn over to look at Atsushi, and Atsushi was probably too hot to bother with the extra effort puppy eyes would take.

"If Sae-san is half as smart as he claims to be, he'll be at home enjoying his air conditioning." Saeki's mother had the air conditioner installed last year after the Rokkaku team had 'accidentally' broken all their fans while 'helpfully' cleaning the fans off. Saeki's mother enjoyed the air conditioning and so did the Rokkaku team, when they weren't all being insane and risking skin cancer and heat stroke on the beach.

Atsushi's bare feet padded across the porch and into the house, the screen door creaking shut behind him. Ryou listened to Atsushi stomp up the stairs to put on his bathing suit and grab his beach bag and then stomp downstairs and head for the main door. "Hey, Atsushi?" Ryou called out loud enough for his brother to hear him.

"What?" Atsushi shouted back.

Ryou's tone was hopeful and just a little plaintive. "Bring me back a popsicle?"

Atsushi's answer was the irritated sound of the door slamming shut. Ryou let his head thunk back against the porch and sighed. Now maybe he could take a nap.

Something cool pressed against the back of Ryou's neck. Cool and wet, Ryou's eyes flew open and he yelped, sitting up so fast that his carefully piled hair all tumbled into his face. There was cool amused laughter behind him and Ryou knew who he would find once he got his hair out of his face again. "Saeki, what are you doing here?"

"Atsushi-kun said you wanted a popsicle." Saeki was holding a white object with two sticks protruding from it. Ryou peered at it and deciphered from the shade that it was probably cherry, maybe raspberry if he was lucky. "I thought someone should bring it to you."

Ryou let his fan drop to the floor and reached for the popsicle. Saeki leaned back and held it out of reach. "Saeki." Ryou growled, and continued to reach for the popsicle. Ryou set his hand on Saeki's left leg, his grip slipping slightly when he found the leg was slick with sweat. "Ew, gross, c'mon." Ryou grabbed Saeki's elbow and slowly pulled the popsicle closer. "Give it to me."

Saeki grinned and when he spoke his words puffed out against Ryou's cheek in a warm, ramune scented breaths. "Only if you promise to come to the beach."

Ryou glared at Saeki and his irritation grew when he noticed the amused gleam in Saeki's eyes. "I already told Atsushi no."

The popsicle pressed cool into Ryou's hand and it promised sweet succor. "Yeah, but that's your brother. I'm me and I don't take no for an answer." Ryou grabbed at the popsicle but it slipped from his fingers. Saeki flopped back onto the porch and Ryou grabbed for the popsicle again, his grip on Saeki's leg slipping and sliding up so it was under Saeki's board shorts and resting on Saeki's hip. Saeki's bare chest radiated heat against Ryou's and Ryou slipped against Saeki's body.

"You suck." Ryou muttered. It was too hot to be wrestling like this. "Just give me the popsicle."

Saeki shook his head and batted at the hair that had fallen into his face. "Not until I get a promise, Ryou."

Ryou knew that the popsicle had to be melting by now. "Fine, fine, I'll come to the beach. Now give it to me."

Saeki handed the popsicle over and remained lying on the floor after Ryou had sat up. Ryou wiped off his sweaty hand on Saeki's board shorts and then ripped open the paper wrapping of his popsicle. Ryou grabbed the sticks, already slick with melting popsicle, and tugged the two popsicles apart before slipping one into his mouth. "Mmm." Cherry.

Saeki waited until Ryou was finished with the popsicle and licking the sticky juice from his fingers before sitting up. "Okay, now get your sandals on and let's go."

"Let me wash my hands first." Ryou made a face and waved his sticky digits in Saeki's face. "I don't want sand coating them."

"You just gave them a tongue bath, isn't that enough?" Saeki grabbed Ryou's wrist to hold his hand still and gave Ryou's hand a lick from palm to the tip of his middle finger. "Still tastes good, so I guess not."

"Ew." Ryou's fingers twitched. "Let go of my hand you perv and let me get ready."

Saeki was always the type to take teasing one step further. Lips curled into a smirk Saeki leaned forward and took the first digit of Ryou's finger into his mouth. Ryou stared into Saeki's eyes, which never left his, before looking down at the sight of his finger disappearing into Saeki's mouth. Saeki's mouth was warm, and kind of pulpy feeling, like sticking your finger into a warm tomato. Saeki's tongue dragged across the bottom of Ryou's finger and swirled around the top. It was soft and wet and Ryou scrunched up his nose.

"That's so not sexy." Ryou snorted before he pulled away. "I'm changing into a swim suit, don't misbehave." Saeki grinned and Ryou kicked him in the leg on his way past. "I'll be back."

Ryou headed for his room to grab his swimsuit and his hat before he headed to the bathroom. Ryou avoided looking in the mirror as he tugged his hair out of the various bands keeping it on top of his head. Once his hair was down Ryou turned on the taps and splashed cold water onto his face. Stupid goddamn Saeki Koujirou.

Ryou wiped his face off and got dressed in his swimsuit. Tugging his hat on Ryou checked himself in the mirror. His chest was brown without only a mild tan line visible where the Rokkaku tennis uniform ended at the shoulder. The difference between Ryou's chest and arms was barely discernable. Ryou's hair hung about his shoulders anyway which made the difference even less noticeable.

Saeki knocked on the wood to the side of the bathroom door. "Ready to go or do you need a second opinion?"

Ryou blew the mirror a kiss, which Saeki pretended to catch anyway. "I'm ready."

The beach was as crowded as Ryou had known it would be, filled with sunbathers and summer swimmers along with Chiba's year round beach boys and girls. Saeki waved at a few of them, and winked at a few more, while Ryou crossed his arms over his chest and scanned the beach for Rokkaku. Ryou had already spotted Itsuki digging in the surf for clams with a few of Rokkaku's first year cheerleaders digging with him, though Ryou knew that they were second years now.

"Davide's surfing." Saeki held a lock of hair away from Ryou's ear so he could murmur in it. "Aoi's over there flirting with girls."

"Shudou?" Ryou ignored the giggling of a group of teenage girls behind them. Give the girls a little fan service and they came flocking, it was a lesson you learned in year one at Rokkaku. Well, you learned in year one if you weren't Aoi. Aoi seemed to have skipped out on that day of Sex Ed.

"He's at home sick apparently he's got food poisoning."

Ryou snorted. He was not surprised. "Right." Ryou didn't bother asking about where Bane was, he had spotted the beach volleyball game that Bane was playing with a mixed group of boys and girls. Ryou glanced at the other side and noted Atsushi playing along. Atsushi missed a ball suddenly, his attention diverted. "What was that? That was an easy one."

Saeki shrugged, his shoulder brushing against Ryou's. "Want to go see?"

Ryou shrugged back, and smacked Saeki's hand away so he would stop stroking that lock of hair. Sometimes Saeki took playing around too far. "Let's go." Ryou began walking across the beech, irritated by the way hot sand slipped between his feet and flip flops. Ryou weaved around the edges of beach towels and beach umbrellas and struggled not to trip over roving children and their messily completed sand castles. When Ryou got to the volleyball game he found that it was paused and the erstwhile players had gathered around someone. Ryou bet it was whoever had distracted Atsushi.

"And then I said to my mom 'well why not Chiba' and she was like 'why not' and Dad said 'it's too EXPENSIVE' and I said that it would be worth it, and then Dad and Mom started to fight and I left the room." There was a loud obnoxious voice shouting somewhere in the crowd. Ryou smiled at a pretty girl before pushing her slightly to the side. Then Ryou elbowed a tall tanned surfer blocking his view. Tall people really should just disappear. "But Dad changed his mind and decided we could come! And so here I am!"

Ryou stepped over a half demolished sand castle and into the center of the circle. Bane was standing just to the left and behind Atsushi, successfully blocking whoever Atsushi was talking to from Ryou's vision. All Ryou could see was two flailing and Tokyo pale arms.

"That's great, Shinya." Ryou ignored the fact that Saeki was apologizing to all the people he'd pushed out of the way and instead headed for Atsushi. Ryou wrapped one arm loosely around Atsushi's chest and propped his chin up on Atsushi's shoulder. The look on the annoying intruders face was worth the press of a hot and sweaty body up against him. Ryou dug his chin into Atsushi's shoulder, it served Atsushi right for getting taller. Twins shouldn't be taller. "Ow! Ryou!"

"So, is that your doubles partner?" Ryou looked 'Shinya' over. The guy was skinny, and had a bad hair-do, and his lips poked out like a duck bill. The shorts Shinya was wearing were a bright orange and red combination that made Ryou's eyes hurt. "Kusu kusu."

"HEY!" Shinya's voice was grating on Ryou's ears, especially that catch phrase he seemed to attach to the end of every sentence. "Is that your brother, Atsushi?"

"This is Ryou." Atsushi shrugged his shoulders and Ryou let go, stepping around to the side and folding his hands over his chest. Hopefully the guy wouldn't be irritating and offer his hand. The group of volleyball players and hangers on was dispersing, wandering back to the volleyball game or their beach towels now that Shinya's shine had worn off. "And this is Bane-san, and right over there is Sae-san."

"It's nice to meet you." Bane nodded his head and slanted Ryou a look that Ryou refused to translate. Bane was tall too, and as such deserved to be ignored.

"It's nice to meet you too, da ne! You guys are all Atsushi's old teammates huh?" Shinya stuffed his hands into the pockets of his trunks. "Wow. And this is the beach! Atsushi how'd you ever leave it for boring old St. Rudolph?"

Atsushi stepped away from Ryou and Bane and moved to Shinya's side. Ryou frowned. He hadn't come to the beach to watch his brother hang out with some guy from THAT school. "I like the beach, but St. Rudolph has its merits." Then Atsushi linked arms with Shinya and Ryou realized, with horror, that this Shinya guy and his brother weren't just doubles partners they were doubles partners.

Saeki placed a hand on Ryou's shoulder, sensing Ryou's upset no doubt. Ryou didn't particularly care. "I'm going to go help Ittchan." Shrugging off Saeki's hand, Ryou headed for the ocean.

Digging for clams wasn't exactly a relaxing past time but it was mind numbing. With the water coming up to his knees, and his elbows when he bent to dig in the surf, and the occasional wave splashing over him Ryou was cool enough, despite the sun beating down on him. "Ryou." Itsuki splashed water in Ryou's direction. Ryou looked up and noticed that the sun was shifting towards the west, not quite dim enough to be called dusk or sunset but late enough that Ryou knew dinner was approaching.

Ryou's stomach growled, okay, maybe dinner time was past. "Yes, Ittchan?"

Itsuki held up a pail filled to the brim with clams. "Davide's offered to let us all camp out at his house to welcome Yanagisawa from Tokyo."

Ryou stood up and splashed some water onto his knees so the wet sand washed away. Ryou would still need to shower to wash off the dried salt and any sand he accumulated on the walk through the beach. "Really?"

Itsuki began walking towards the shore; Ryou noted that all the younger classmen had left a while ago. "You're coming… right?" Itsuki turned big eyes Ryou's way. Ryou stroked his hair before tossing some over his shoulder. It was hard to be a part of Rokkaku and not be completely whipped by Itsuki. Itsuki could also tell when you were being reluctant or putting on a smile when all you wanted to do was strangle someone. "Ryou?"

Ryou considered his choices. He could make Yanagisawa welcome, or deal with Itsuki pouting at him. Ryou could handle Atsushi dating a duck faced idiot, or he could alienate Atsushi all over again.

Ryou could spend the evening making out with Saeki, or bored out of his mind.

"Yeah, I'll go." Ryou snagged one of Itsuki's buckets of clams and headed for the showers gathered around the boardwalk. Ryou set the bucket of clams down by Bane, giving him a look that said clearly 'take care of them or die'. Bane saluted Ryou lazily, but he was in the middle of talking with a sweet looking shorter girl with died blond hair. Ryou rolled his eyes and headed for the showers. Stepping into one of the open stalls Ryou turned on the hot water. A flimsy plastic curtain could be pulled to keep things minimally private, but Ryou didn't bother. He wasn't stripping down, other than his hat, and he wasn't shampooing. All he was doing was soaking the ocean off.

"Exhibitionist much?" Saeki lounged in the doorway, his arm extended to hold onto the top of Ryou's stall. "You could pretend modesty, Ryou."

Ryou pushed wet hair out of his face and gave Saeki a look. "Would it do me any good, Saeki?" Twisting his hair Ryou wrung out some of the water before ducking it under the shower again. "No one would ever call you modest, no matter how well you pretend to be." Water cascaded down Ryou's back along with wet hair; a warm hand settled on Ryou's back just above the waistband over his trunks. Saeki's hand was covered in calluses, and it felt nice and rough against Ryou's back.

"Do I pretend?" Saeki wrapped his arms around Ryou's waist and pressed up against him. Ryou made a face when the action trapped his hair between his back and Saeki's chest. "Ryou."

"We're having a camp out at Davide's. You molesting me is supposed to distract me from plucking the duck." Saeki nuzzled at Ryou's wet neck, he pressed light kisses to the skin there, the water flowing around Saeki's lips to slide down their pressed-together bodies in a hundred different rivulets.

"I could help?" Ryou kicked at Saeki's ankle, not hard enough to hurt, and pried Saeki's hands off of his waist.

"I'd appreciate it. It might keep Atsushi from going back." Pushing Saeki under the spray, Ryou grabbed at his hat and a towel. "Hurry up, Saeki, or we'll leave you behind."

Cool off, Jess!

solanum_d — Mon, 08 Sep 2008 16:27:16 GMT

Recipient: blackjesskat
Title: “A New Look”
Beta: Ming, dragon_tearz
Pairings/School: Oishi/Eiji
Warnings/Rating: PG (kissing)
Disclaimer: I do not own Prince of Tennis. Konomi Takeshi has that privilege.
A/N: thoughts/ writing Emphasis/Titles

Chapter 1: Beginnings
Eiji was apprehensively standing in front of a huge board covered with numbers. “128…128,” he murmured looking for said number. Suddenly his eye was caught by a number, not his own, but the one belonging to his best friends and doubles partner. Oishi’s in, he thought. I knew he could get in. Soon after that he found his own number. “Yahoi!” He exclaimed. “More years with Oishi!”

College would be just as they had planned; filled with class work being roommates, and, of course, still playing tennis. After many years, throughout middle school and high school, together, Oishi and Eiji were still best friends. During the weeks prior to the entrance exams, they planned to share an apartment close to the university campus and be roommates, if they had both got accepted. The two of them had looked at and scouted many of the apartments near the campus in their free time, as an apartment would be closer to the university than either of their homes. When they started university, they would move in together, with parental consent.

Eiji spotted a familiar head in the crowd and bounded over to it. “Oishi!” He shouted as pounced with all the finesse of a lion leaping on prey onto said person. “We both got in!”

“Eiji,” Oishi said while trying to stay standing as he absorbed the impact. “Maybe we could get out of this crowd to celebrate elsewhere.”

Eiji nodded in reply still clinging to Oishi. “We should go rent an apartment,” he said.

Oishi nodded in agreement. They worked their way back from the board through the crowd of others looking up whether they got accepted. Both of the guys were ecstatic about their acceptance and the chance to be roommates. As they made their way back from the board, Eiji was lagging slightly behind of Oishi and was grinning from ear to ear. Oishi turned back, saw Eiji’s look of relief and gladness, and grinned back at Eiji.

“Hurry up,” Oishi said. “Our first choice apartment might already be taken if you go slowly.” At these words, Eiji puts out a burst of speed, running in the direction of the apartment building, leaving Oishi in his wake. Oishi’s smile widened and he took off after Eiji.

Eiji looked back to see Oishi chasing after him and laughed. They both ran to the apartment complex, and then stopped running when they reached the building. Looking at each other, they entered the first floor office.

At the entrance of the two boys, the manager looked up.

“How may I assist you?” She asked.

“We are interested in renting the 2kl apartment available,” Oishi relied maturely.

“Just let me get the paperwork for it,” said the manager as she turned around to reach into the file cabinet. After a few moments of searching, she pulled out the lease papers for said apartment. “The rent would be 90,000 yen per month which includes utilities. The apartment’s damage deposit if one half of a month’s rent.”

Oishi and Eiji looked at each other and nodded with agreement at the prices. They then started to pull out the money that their parents had given them to pay. “We’ll take it,” Oishi said.

The manager brought the papers over to them and laid them down on the desk between the two boys and her. “Sign here, here and here. Initial here and here,” she said pointing to the appropriate spots.

Oishi looked the lease over carefully, paying close attention to the responsibilities of the tenets and the landlord. When it met his approval, he signed on the appropriate lines and then motioned for Eiji to sign. Eiji signed the lease as well and handed it back to the landlady.

“The first months rent and deposit is needed up front,” she said.

Oishi turned back to Eiji and they quickly pooled their money, counting out 135,000 yen. “Remember,” Oishi started. “Our parents will only give us each 65,000 yen a month as allowance, but they will pay tuition for the first two years.”

Eiji nodded. “We’ll haveta get jobs,” he commented.

They handed the money over to the landlady, which was then exchanged for the keys to the apartment.

As they walked out of the office, Eiji exclaimed, “Let’s enjoy the time, nya!”

Chapter 2: Stirred Feelings
~*~Two months after renting the apartment, during the summer~*~

In the sun, two boys were walking along the sidewalk by they multiple apartment blocks with big bags on their shoulders. Oishi and Eiji were carrying their tennis rackets home after they spent a few hours at the tennis courts. Both of them were smiling in contentment after the satisfying few rounds of tennis that they had played that day.

Oishi let Eiji walk a few paces in front of him. As they walked, Oishi’s eyes drifted over Eiji’s toned backside. With a Herculean effort, Oishi dragged his eyes away, I shouldn’t be doing this. Eiji would be grossed out if he found out.

“Would you like to get some ice cream?” Asked Oishi. “My treat.”

Eiji stopped walking and turned around to Oishi. “Hoi!” he said with a big grin almost bouncing in place with happiness.

“Where do you want to get it?”

“Hoi…” Eiji thought. “I would like to get some from the shop by home. I really like the way that they make it there, nya.”

“Okay,” Oishi said. He smiled back at Eiji’s enthusiasm for ice cream specifically and sweet things in general.

“Yahoi!” Eiji exclaimed. “Ice cream, ice cream, we all scream for ice cream!” Chanted Eiji as they headed to the ice cream parlour.

Oishi was smiling at Eiji’s antics the whole way to the ice cream parlour and chuckling quietly. Eiji heard the soft laugh and paused his antics to look at Oishi. He cocked his head and asked, “hunya?”

Oishi smiled back and said, “nothing.”

Eiji looked kind of upset at being brushed off, but soon recovered when he remembered that Oishi was treating him to ice cream. He slowly resumed his bounces and chant as they continued to the parlour.

They came to the traffic light and crosswalk near the apartment complex where they lived and instead of crossing they walked the two blocks to the ice cream parlour. During the section of the walk after Oishi suggested they get ice cream, Eiji had more bounce in his steps than normal because it wasn’t just ice cream, but ice cream that he didn’t have to pay for himself.

The ice cream parlour that Eiji wanted to go to came into view and they entered it.

“For two,” Oishi told the waitress. She checked the reservations and the table diagram of the restaurant and picked up two of the menus.

“Right this way,” she told the boys as she led them to a table near the back of the restaurant. When they got the table, she paced the menus down on the table and left them to settle themselves. Oishi and Eiji both put their racket bags down and sat at the table at the same time. Picking up the menus, Eiji and Oishi looked through the ice cream selection.

The waitress came back to their table after a few minutes and asked, “Are you ready to order?”

Eiji shook his head as he perused the menu. Oishi was ready to order, but he held off to order with Eiji. “No, not ready quite yet,” he told the waitress. “May we have two glasses of water?”

“Sure,” she said as she put her small notepad back into her apron pocket and left to get the water. A few more minutes passed and she came back to them with the water. She placed one glass in front of each boy and then asked, “Do you need more time?”

Eiji shook his head and said, “I’ll have the strawberry chocolate deluxe parfait.”

“I would like two scoops vanilla ice cream in a bowl, please,” Oishi ordered politely.

They chatted about the matches they played that day against each other as well as the one doubles match they played as they were waiting for the ice cream to come. After a bit the waitress came with the ice cream for both of them. They both thanked her. Eiji’s parfait had fresh strawberries and chocolate syrup as well as whip cream on top of the layered ice cream in the glass that was a third strawberry, a third chocolate, and a third vanilla.

“Itedakimasu,” both boys said. After the grace, they both started to eat their ice cream. Eiji was eating his ice cream in a way that was half licking and half sucking it off of the spoon. While he was eating, Eiji was making a lot of noise that was indicating enjoyment of his parfait.

Eiji’s tongue and the spoon, which led to some indecent thoughts, entranced Oishi. I’d like that tongue to be doing that to me, he thought as he choked on his own ice cream. He coughed a couple times to clear his windpipe of the ice cream as he shook his head to clear out the dirty thoughts that he had. All of a sudden he got an urge to kiss Eiji. He put his ice cream spoon down and pushed his dish to the side. After that, when the spoon went back down to the parfait glass to get more ice cream on it, he leaned across the table and brushed his lips against Eiji’s. Oishi felt Eiji stiffen reflexively and stood up abruptly. Grabbing his tennis bag, he headed towards the door and the waitress. Oishi kept his promise by paying for the ice cream on the way out.

Chapter 3: Reactions, Thoughts.
~Eiji’s POV~

I finished my ice cream and found out that Oishi had paid for them already. When I got home, Oishi wasn’t there so I went to my room to write in my diary. I hid my diary under my mattress pad, old response from living as the youngest of six, though I knew Oishi would never read it.

Dear Diary,
Today was a lot of fun, but also kind of confusing. I got to play tennis all day with Oishi, which was the fun part. We haven’t played like that since the second year of high school. Oishi stopped playing on the tennis team, well probably because his parents forced him to stop, during the last year in high school to concentrate on preparing for the university entrance exams. I’ve missed playing doubles with Oishi, but I’m thankful that tennis isn’t the only thing that our friendship is based upon. Oishi hasn’t lost his edge in tennis from the year off, probably because we still played a bit when we hung out together. Spending time with Oishi was still as fun as ever. After tennis Oishi treated me to ice cream, which is always a good thing.

The weirdest thing that happened today was that while we were eating our ice cream. Oishi kissed me! I admit I do sometimes like Oishi too much at times, but who would have thought that the perfect son would kiss me. Most of the time, I think that Oishi is and always has been the perfect son, the one who follows his parents’ wishes. Some of time, I don’t know what to think of Oishi. I know that he’s dependable, kind, has a temper sometimes, and I have a lot of other adjectives that can describe Oishi as well. I always thought that Oishi was straight, but he would never kiss a guy (me) as a joke. This is just not his style, so he must have some sort of purpose to it. It was on the home when I was thinking about it that I realized that maybe Oishi had a crush on me as more than a friend.

It was when I came up with this suggestion that the kiss made the most sense. But, Oishi has always come across as straight. Will think more into it later. I have enjoyed, especially the tennis, the day, minus the overstressing about the kiss that Oishi bestowed upon me while we were eating ice cream. Will still think about Oishi and try to work things out.

Oishi’s POV:

After I paid the bill for our ice cream, I walked out of the store towards my special spot. After the big green shipping container got moved I found a nice grove of trees in the same park that I now used as my special spot to get away from it all.

I neared the park with my grove and entered the park itself. After walking up on trail for a bit, I turned off into the bushed and entered my grove. As I sank down to the forest floor there, I reflected on what just happen, or what I just did.

Oh my gosh. I just kissed my best friend. I shouldn’t have done it. I enjoyed the brief caress far more than I should have. He’ll never want to talk to me after this. He stiffened as soon as I kissed him, he must hate me now. I knew better than to kiss Eiji like that.

Eiji is straight. There is no way that he could like me as more than a friend. I wish I didn’t kiss him, at least that was I would have saved our friendship. Now things are going to be very awkward for both of us, him especially since we are still sharing the apartment. We don’t have enough money to live separately at this moment. I’ll just make things easy on him. I’ll just have to be resolute in this. Eiji would not have deserved this kiss. I have to make atonement for what I have done by making it up to him.

I’ll take care of things around the house. I can do the chores and still balance it with finding a job so I can live separately. I was really looking forward to sharing an apartment with Eiji, but now that I’ve kissed him he wouldn’t want to share with me. I’ll just have to pay part of this apartment for Eiji and raise funds so I can move out.

Eiji will be so grossed out with me. What was I thinking when I kissed him? I’ll try and keep out of his way as much as possible. He wouldn’t even want to look at me let alone talk to me.

Third Person POV:

Both of the boys were resolute in their own ways as they were thinking of ways to solve this latest crisis.

Chapter 4: Confrontation

After the ice cream incident, Oishi would catch himself staring at Eiji’s beautiful body, or lips, and would have to remind himself to stop and that it would gross Eiji out. These episodes of staring started out fairly infrequently, but they gradually increased in number, and time spent staring. This increase of incidents hardened his resolve to avoid Eiji as much as possible.

Why is he staring at me again? Have I done something stupid? Do I have something on my face? Eiji thought during one of the times that he caught Oishi staring at him. Or is it like I thought before? Does he like me like that?

Every time Eiji moved, or started, to ask Oishi about it, Oishi would pretend that nothing happened or like Eiji wasn’t there. Eiji was frustrated with the way that Oishi was behaving about the problem.

A lot of time now, Oishi was hell bent on avoiding Eiji to decrease the amount of staring incidents occurred and to make Eiji not grossed out with him. To facilitate the avoidance of Eiji, Oishi tended to be busy with other things, even going to the great length of spending as little time as possible in the apartment.

The little time that Oishi did spend with Eiji tended to be awkward, filled with Eiji trying his best to get Oishi to look at him and Oishi trying not to start at him. This time was generally at the evening meal, when both guys would sit down to dinner together despite the awkwardness it tended to bring to room.

Oishi did not enjoy, or like, the fact that he couldn’t (wouldn’t) spend time with Eiji anymore. He had always enjoyed hanging out with Eiji since he was always ready to crack jokes and smile.

This is for the best, he thought. I ruined the friendship that we had, so I did this to myself as punishment. I can’t expect Eiji to ignore it, surely it grossed him out. I just have to deal with the consequences myself.

The way Oishi dealt with the consequences and reaction from the surprising kiss was to avoid Eiji, but still take care of him from a distance. Even though Oishi tried to avoid Eiji completely, there were still times when Eiji would actually try to get Oishi to talk with him about it these days.

“Aren’t you excited about starting college in a few weeks?” Eiji asked Oishi with a huge grin on his face. “I am.”

“Mhm,” Oishi made a sound of agreement. His back was turned on Eiji who was currently bouncing around their living room. Oishi was trying to ignore Eiji and his bounces, but was presently failing.

“Do you want to be on the tennis team?” Eiji asked. “It seemed like you really wanted to play in our senior year.”

“Maybe,” Oishi mumbled a reply, still trying to ignore Eiji and his attention seeking antics.

The answers and lack of attention from Oishi seriously annoyed Eiji. As he grew up in a large, loving family, even when fights or arguments occurred between family members, they had never ignored each other, talked through the arguments, and still loved each other. Eiji wasn’t used and did not like how Oishi was ignoring and avoiding him. It also was upsetting to Eiji on how Oishi wouldn’t talk their problem through with him.

I wish we could talk this through and not let it ruin our friendship, Eiji thought. We’ve spent years as friends and I do not want to forfeit that over one kind of small incident. I don’t know why Oishi hasn’t done anything more of that nature, like confess, if he does like me. Eiji just shook his head as his attempts to get Oishi’s attention and talk to him failed yet again.

“Oiishiii,” Eiji started to whine. “Why are you ignoring me?”

Oishi was still valiantly trying to ignore him even with Eiji whining at him for attention. Finally he failed to resist the insistent and pitiful whining noise Eiji was making.

“We’ll talk on Saturday,” he said. “I promise.”

Chapter 5: Resolutions

By the time that Saturday rolled around, Eiji was very curious to how Oishi was going to treat their talk. Oishi had been ignoring him all week except for the few moments that he was trying to pacify Eiji.

Oishi, on the other hand, was not really looking forward to their discussion, as he would have to tell the truth, all of it. He thought that Eiji would not understand the reasons for the avoidance and why he had kissed him. It was also his fear that Eiji would no longer even try to speak to him when he found out that he loved him. He hoped with all his soul that Eiji would still talk to him and play tennis with him occasionally.

Eiji was waiting patiently, seated on the couch in the living room, not bouncing for once. He understood the seriousness that this conversation would hold for them, but not worrying whether Oishi wouldn’t show up. He was deep in thought, sorting out the questions that he might have to ask to straighten this mess up.

Oishi walked into the room with a grim look on his face. It’s time to face the mess I’ve made, he thought. He sat on the chair opposite to the couch; so he could face Eiji, look at him in the face. He took in a deep breath to calm himself, and then started to talk to Eiji.

“It started near the end of our junior year,” he said with a tone that was somewhat bleak. “After all the years that we played tennis together and how we could go synchro, I started to think of you in more than friend terms.” He paused to take another breath. Eiji was still seated silently as he took in the explanation that Oishi was giving him. “When my parents suggested that I take a break from tennis in our senior year to concentrate on the entrance exams, I thought that my ‘infatuation’, my crush, would disappear since we wouldn’t be spending that much time together. Over the course of that year, my crush blossomed into love.” He paused seeing that Eiji raised a hand, like he was in class. He smiled slightly and said, “Yes Eiji?”

“If you fell in love with me in high school, why didn’t you confess then?” Eiji asked to clarify that point.

“I felt and still do feel that it would disgust you,” he started. “After all, I’m a guy and you’re a guy too. Anyways, lately I’ve wanted you a lot. When I saw you licking up your ice cream I couldn’t help but kiss you.” He paused for a bit here. “Don’t worry I’ve been looking for work. I can move out of here and still pay part of the rent here, so you can stay. I’ll take care of everything since I do love you. I won’t take any more of you time. Sorry for the inconvenience.” He stood and bowed to Eiji. He then started to leave the living room for his bedroom.

Eiji saw Oishi leaving the room and called out, “Oishi, wait. I’m not done talking to you. Sit down please.”

Oishi moved to obey Eiji and retraced his steps back to the chair and sat down again. He could no other thing respectfully. Eiji had listened to him, now it was his turn to return the favour.

“When you first kissed me, I was surprised, nya. It just didn’t seem like you. I always thought you like girls that way,” Eiji started. He paused for a bit then went on the say, “once I thought it through, I could see that you liked me like that. I was just wondering why you had never told me.” He paused and looked at Oishi. “When you started to avoid me after the kiss, I thought it was because you hated me and the kiss was a big joke, nya. It just didn’t seem like the kind, loving Oishi I thought I knew.” He took to a breath and continued. “So I was always trying to talk to you, to prove that I was still your friend. You kept ignoring me then.” His face contorted in an expression of pain.

Seeing Eiji’s expression, Oishi moved over to the couch and embraced him. “I like you. I love you,” he murmured as he hugged Eiji. Eiji make a soft sound, feeling better in Oishi’s arms. He then turned to face Oishi again.

“I think I love you too,” he commented softly.

Hearing this Oishi’s heart began to race. He smiled gently at Eiji. “Would you go out with me?” Oishi asked. Eiji nodded to this and placed a soft kiss on Oishi’s cheek. Oishi then kissed Eiji on the mouth again with both of them blushing madly. They pulled apart and smiled at each other.

“Here’s to one more year of being together,” Eiji said. “Even though our friendship has changed slightly, we'll be thankful to the ice cream that brought us together.”

Cool off, Elle!

senshixdoukeshi — Mon, 08 Sep 2008 02:42:11 GMT

Recipient: lumelle
Title: Second Chances
Betaed by: animemetoo
Characters/Pairings: Tezuka/Oishi
Rating/Worksafe: R/Not work safe, sexual situations and such. i.e. Fun.
Disclaimer: Konomi owns these characters, no profits were made from this work.

Notes: Please enjoy. I hope I met some of your hopes and wishes. Forewarning, this is pure mush and fluff, and will cause severe dental decay.

Oishi sat in the turquoise blue rocker, feet propped up on the newly painted white rail, drinking a cold Corona, and watching the waves crash along the shoreline. Finishing his first beer and opening another, he leaned back, sighing, as he allowed each crashing wave to wash away more of the tension from his body. He decided there were definite benefits to being a gay, single cardiologist. Owning your own beach house was in the top 5.

Swallowing another mouthful of cold beer, Oishi closed his eyes and straightened his legs, forcing the chair to rock back. He was surprised at how relaxed he was at this moment. Usually at times like this, he would not be able to hold back his tears. That was the reason he bought this beach house – a refuge for him to escape so he could cry and have his pity party, and then he would go back to work like nothing happened. Was it time...was he finally over him?

"I figured I'd find you here." The bespectacled man stated as he headed up the steps. “And you've only had one beer so far – you must have hit some bad traffic.”

"What are you doing here?" Oishi growled.

"I will ignore your bad mood and instead comment on how nice the house looks. When you showed me the color combinations, I wasn't sure. But even these “I’m so gay” blue chairs turned out good." Tezuka just smiled, grabbed a beer out of the cooler, and sat in the chair next to his friend. “Besides, as your boss, if you are planning on skipping out on one of my meetings, you should have the courtesy to let me know.

"I left you a message – check your voice mail. Besides, I’ve been to every one of your meetings for the past 5 years, showed up 5 minutes early, and never fall asleep, unlike other doctors that shall remain unmentioned while at the beach. So I figured you could excuse my one absence." Oishi could not help but smile at their banter.

They became friends back in their days at Seigaku, and they remained friends, even as they graduated college and began their careers. They stayed in touch with e-mails and sporadic phone calls. Then, when his ex-captain accepted the position as the administrator of his hospital five years ago, Oishi found that their friendship just continued from where they left it on the tennis courts, but now, as adults, their relationship took on a new level – it was something Oishi could not quite put his finger on, but it was something he depended on, he counted on, and he was not surprised that Tezuka was there now, sitting next to him on his porch. Tezuka was always there for him.

They rocked in silence, sipping at their beers, and watching a school of fish breaking across the waves. Tezuka decided to break the tranquility. "So, I heard Eiji's a dad now."

Silence.

Tezuka tried again. "A boy, huh? Fuji said he even has red hair like his father."

"There are other things that should remain unmentioned at the beach also." Oishi's glance did not flicker as he stared at the seagulls flying over the waves.

"So, you plan on staying in love with Eiji for what? Forever?”

"You have a problem with that?" Oishi gulped down another swallow of beer.

"Well, yes. It's like one of those Harlequin romances where the heroine is hopelessly in love, and her love is never returned. Nice concept when you are young and think keeping yourself pure forever for your true love is beautiful." Tezuka pushed his glasses back on his nose. "Personally, being 35 years old, I don't need unrequited love. I need someone to come home to every night, who will be there during the good, the bad, and the hot, sweaty nights." He leaned over, giving his old friend a lecherous smile.

"You can be such a pervert! I am sure the rest of the staff would never believe me if I told them their boss owned his own set of handcuffs and leather horse tails.” Oishi glared at his old team captain, trying not to smile at the twinkle in the man's eyes. “And for the records, I am NOT pure!”

Tezuka laughed. "Yeah, and I've seen some of the...things...you've brought home."

“Excuse me? Things?” Oishi took offense at Tezuka's implication.

“If you think they qualified as men, then good for you. All I saw were young pieces of ass – a quick roll in the sack – nothing more. I'm sure it satisfied your “needs”, but none of them kept your attention longer than a month.”

“Who I bring home and why is none of your business.“ Oishi got up from his chair, picking up his empty beer bottles, and motioned for Tezuka to follow him inside. "We better get some food in our stomachs before all this alcohol hits. The last thing the neighbors need to see is two drunk, middle-aged, gay men running down the beach butt naked."

“Naked...on the beach.... doesn't sound bad at all.” Tezuka leaned against the rail, looking hopeful at the beach.

“Being naked on the beach is not as great as it looks in the movies.” Oishi declared as he leaned against the doorframe.

'Really? And how would you know about naked beach running?” Tezuka turned around, watching Oishi's face turn a light shade of pink.

“One of those “things” I brought home. A few years ago, the neighbors rented their house out to some college students. One of the guys was premed, cute and gay. One thing lead led to another, and we ended up on the beach. Sand got into places I don't want sand to get into again.”

After the initial shock, Tezuka started laughing so hard he had to hold on to the rail so he wouldn't lose his balance. “Oh, that's too good. You actually had sex on the beach.” Tezuka looked like the cat that caught the mouse. “You'll have to tell me more later.”

“Right now, we need to eat.” Oishi strolled into the living room, his favorite room in the house. He could have afforded a bigger, more luxurious house, but when he saw this room, he knew he had to have it. The floors were a light oak, the walls a simple beige with crisp white trim – all in typical beach house style. But the side of the house that faced the ocean was curved out, and all glass – floor to ceiling windows that allowed the view of the ocean at any angle.

“This is my favorite room,” Tezuka stated as he followed his colleague into the house. “I love sitting here in the morning, drinking coffee, watching the sun rise. Thanks for buying this place.”

“I should make you pay rent.” Oishi grinned as he watched his friend sit down on one of the green bar stools at the counter. He used to only come to the beach house when he wanted to forget – forget about his loneliness, forget about his desire to love and be loved, forget about Eiji's unreciprocated feelings. Now, coming to the beach house had become a regular weekend excursion for him and Tezuka, and he looked forward to being here and their time together.

Reaching into the refrigerator, Oishi pulled out a couple packages of pre-made sushi. Looking at the package, Tezuka read the label, pulled his glasses off, rubbed the brim of his nose, replaced his glasses, and read the label again. “Are you sure this counts as food?”

“Yes! And you ate it last weekend. I just took it out of the packages before you got here.” Oishi removed the lids, pulled out extra ginger and soy sauce, and sliced up a mango. The two men fixed a plate and headed into the living room. “Now eat before you irritate me even more and I kick you out. I'm in a bad mood – so don't push me."

The taller man sat down on the coral love seat, settling his plate on the glass coffee table. “You'd never kick me out because you have too much fun arguing with me. I make you think, which is something none of those play toys you bring home do.” Grabbing a piece of sushi and popping it in his mouth, Tezuka grinned. “But I figure when you bring one of them home, thinking is not what you’re wanting to do.”

The tops of Oishi's ears turned bright red. “Enough.” Walking back in to the kitchen to get a glass of black tea, Oishi glanced at the magnetic calendar attached to his refrigerator. “Oh yeah, we're supposed to paint your spare bedroom next weekend, right?”

“Yeah, but I need your help picking out the colors. I can't decide between Tatami Tan or Honeyed Yellow for the walls. I really want the room to look perfect. I don't want him to decline my offer.”

“Yes, I know. Your “special someone” is moving in. I don't know why you’re so worried.” The co-captain smiled, realizing Tezuka must be excited, but also nervous having Fuji moving back in with him. In the past five years, Fuji had been on so many overseas assignments, he had only come to visit twice. Oishi did not broach the subject about the long-distant relationship because in addition to not wanting to upset his friend, he also did not want to remind himself that his time alone with Tezuka would have to end. He had lost Tezuka once, and it hurt to think he was going to lose him again.

Back when they played tennis, both of them were quiet, serious, and determined to take their team to the nationals. Neither of them ever needed to say much to understand the other. As time passed, Oishi noticed his feelings grew into something more than friendship, but by then, Tezuka had another admirer, Fuji. So, he gave up, willing to stay quiet about his feelings, content that he was co-captain, and spending most of his time in the clubhouse with his captain making schedules and discussing practices.

When he wasn't spending time with Tezuka, he was with Eiji. Eiji, so different than the captain, full of energy and life, forcing Oishi out of his shell. It was inevitable that he would fall in love with his lively, gymnastic partner, and their time together as the Golden Pair would always have a special place in his heart and memories. Now, Eiji was married with a family. Fuji was finally coming home to live with Tezuka again. Why did Oishi always want men he could not have? He had to face the truth and let go of these unrequited loves. It was time, just like Tezuka said, to stop bringing home the one-night stands and find a man that he could settle down with.

Oishi awoke out of his reminiscing to his plate being lifted out of his hands.

“Done? I'll clean up since you worked SO HARD to make dinner.” Tezuka smirked as he carried the plates into the kitchen.

“Forget the dishes...time to play! That's right!! Time to play Metal Gear Solid 3 Snake Eater...oh yeah!! Let's go!!” Oishi jumped off the sofa and went to get the game controllers.

The ex-captain let out a soft moan and put his hand on his forehead. "You need help my friend. This is now the 4th weekend in a row I am playing this game, and all because you find a video game character hot.”

“It's Snake, Tezuka...Snake!! Have you seen his ass?”

“I see a delicious ass right now – and it's on a REAL person!!”

“You just don't want to play because I beat you every time.” Oishi beamed proudly, causing Tezuka to rip the game controller out of his hand and start the game.

A few hours later, Oishi triumphantly did his victory dance, and Tezuka called it quits. “Come on, the winner will serve the loser...AGAIN...some ice cream. We can sit on the porch. The beach is beautiful in the moonlight.”

Bowls in hand, the two men walked outside, positioning themselves on the stairs. In the moonlight, they could see a couple holding hands, walking slowly through the surf.

“So, did you and your beach lover at least take a walk together?”

The cardiologist could have sworn he heard a tinge of jealousy in his boss' voice. “It was just a summer fling. Eiji had just gotten married, and I was in a really bad place. He was right next door - young, hot and willing.” Oishi could feel his face turning red. “...very willing. I just wanted to forget, and he let me forget.” He pushed the ice cream around in his bowl.

“It was a long time ago Oishi. Besides, if the guy didn't enjoy himself, he wouldn't have kept up the sand romps, right.” Tezuka squeezed his friend's shoulder. “Now, for something more serious. What the hell are you feeding me here? Are you trying to poison me?”

“What? That's Frute' Suprema – a new sugar-free, fat-free, cholesterol-free, all natural blueberry ice cream.”

“Blueberry? I can promise you that not a single blueberry was harmed in the creation of this taste-free monstrosity.”

“Excuse me?! Just try it, you'll like it. It's a good way to eat something sweet but also stay healthy. I read about it in 'Heart Healthy'.”

“Well, next time, I'm bringing some mint chocolate chip.”

****************************************************************

Oishi tossed and turned. No matter how he tried, he just could not get to sleep. A few more tosses, the bed creaking as he tried to find a comfortable position, and he heard a knock at his door.

Startled, he warily asked, “Tezuka?”

Tezuka opened the door and walked in. “Can't sleep?” Walking over to the bed, he sat down, his weight causing Oishi to roll towards him.

“Um...” Oishi had to admit - Tezuka was in great shape. His daily workouts kept him lean and trim. Sitting so close, wearing green jade pajama pants which clung to his slim waist and no shirt, all Oishi could think about was pulling his captain down and running his hands over that tone, muscled chest and licking the pink nipples until they became hard and taut. Oishi quickly pulled the blanket over his waist, hoping his billowed boxers had not been noticed.

Tezuka leaned back, pointing at the tennis ball night-light plugged in to the outlet next to the wall. “You still think vampires are going to get you?”

“A vampire can't come in your house unless you invite them in. Jeez...you know nothing about vampires.” Oishi laughed, pushing the other man.

Stretching out on the bed, Tezuka rolled over on his side, placing a hand along Oishi's face. “Thinking about Eiji?” His voice was soft and gentle.

Oishi closed his eyes, leaning in to the touch, enjoying the warmth of his friend's hand.

Tezuka moved in closer, pressing their bodies together. Oishi felt his friend's lips gently touch his own. Soon, the kiss became more insistent, and Tezuka's hand grazed his chin, roaming down his neck, and tentatively creeping under his shirt.

Oishi's skin was on fire. His erection was already achingly hard, and his body craved more. He was scared, but he finally opened his eyes, and found himself staring directly into 2 pools of brown desire.

“I'll help you forget.” Tezuka's hand skillfully slipped into Oishi's boxers, pulling out the dripping erection. His long fingers began to slide up and down, gently brushing the tightened sacks. As his fingers ran back up the shaft, they slowly tightened around the head, his thumb circling the slit, spreading precum along the tip.

Oishi's breath halted as the pleasure ran through his body, causing his toes to tingle. Instinctively, he began to thrust into the warm hand encircling his cock, not stopping until the hand was removed and placed along his sweat-slicked hips. “Hold on, let me join you,” Tezuka whispered into his co-captain's ear.

Oishi shook when he felt Tezuka's engorged erection slide along his own. The heat from the flesh, the smoothness of the enlarged, reddened head almost made the man cum, but Tezuka stopped, kissing the side of Oishi's jaw, giving both men a minute to catch their breath.

With Oishi's head leaned into his neck, Tezuka began stroking them again, rubbing both of their erections together. The precum slicked his hands, making the friction smooth and easy. The ex-captain gasped in surprise as he felt Oishi's hand run along his waist and then down his thigh, ending between his legs, pulling at his tightened sacks.

Both men were breathing hard and heavy, their bodies frantically rubbing against each other. Hands were expertly stroking and caressing, and soon hot cum coated firm abdomens. With sighs of contentment and satisfied bodies, Tezuka pulled Oishi to him, holding him close to his chest as they both drifted off to sleep.

************************************************************

Feels good. Oishi thought as he began to wake up. He could still feel the heat of Tezuka's body against his, the smell of Tezuka's herbal shampoo on the pillow...

“Oh shit!!” The realization he just slept with his old captain began to dawn on his slowly awakening brain. This is why he always ran first thing in the morning – it woke up both his body and his brain so he was ready to begin his day. He needed to run...now. Quickly getting dressed, Oishi started to head out to the beach.

“Here, before you run, I made you some orange juice.” Tezuka stood in the kitchen, barefooted; those damn jade pajama bottoms still clinging seductively to his hips. “It's good to have a little something before you start out, and vitamin C is a good source of energy.”

“Thanks...” Oishi stuttered, trying to avoid any eye contact.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yes.” Finishing up his orange juice, Oishi placed the glass down on the counter and started out the door.

“Great. When you get back, I'll have some breakfast made. Does an omelet sound good?”

Oishi's hand lingered on the door. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” Tezuka questioned, taking a step towards his friend.

“Stop acting like nothing happened. Last night...us...it shouldn't have happened.”

“What? Oishi....” Tezuka hurried across the room, grabbing the quickly escaping man's arm.

Pulling his arm away, Oishi turned around. “I didn't need a pity fuck.”

“Pity? What the hell are you talking about?” Confused, Tezuka watched his friend attempt to head out to the beach again. “It wasn't a pity fuck. It wasn't. Oishi...don't leave...we need to talk...” The shirtless man's voice trailed after the other man who was quickly trying to escape.

“The person you need to talk to is Fuji. How are you going to explain what happened?” Oishi headed down the stairs, on to the beach, and began his run quicker than usual. He needed to get away and think.

The ex-captain was able to follow as far as to the shoreline before his friend was just a speck in the distance. “Damn it...Oishi!!” Standing in the waves, he cursed the fact that his usual morning runs consisted of laps in an air-conditioned gym on a flat, paved track. “Fucking sand...”

Oishi ran extremely hard. He was not sure which would explode first – his heart, his lungs, or his mind. The feel of his captain's fingers along his body still tingled. Last night was good, really good. He could not deny his boss was an amazing lover, just as good as he imagined...well, fantasized about.

Taking Tezuka...being taken by Tezuka...fuck, how many times had Oishi masturbated to those fantasies?

“Damn it!” Oishi screamed in the air. He had done a lot of stupid things in his time, but screwing his best-friend...his best-friend who was in a relationship and whose “special someone” was moving in next week. “Damn it!!”

How far could he run? He stared blindly in front of him, his body moving out of instinct. When he ran as far as he could, he stopped, falling to the ground, trying to catch his breath, and wishing an answer would come to him. But there was no answer, and there wouldn't be an answer while lying in the sand. The answer was back at his house, and he had to go back and face his friend.

Turning back, he headed home to find his boss standing on the beach, the surf beginning to wash over his legs. “Tezuka?”

“It wasn't a pity fuck.” The soaking wet man stated.

“Why didn't you go back into the house?” He tried not to laugh at the man whose hair was sticking up in all directions from the breeze.

“I don't need to explain anything to Fuji. We broke up 10 years ago.”

“Come on, let's go....” Oishi whirled around and stared at him. “10 years ago?”

“We just went our separate ways. I wanted to share my life with someone that would be there when I came home from work. Fuji wanted to travel and explore the world. We both tried to accept each other for who we were and what we wanted, and then we realized, that if we did care for each other, we'd break up and give the other person the freedom to find what would truly make them happy.”

Oishi's confusion continued. “Why didn't you tell me that before now?”

“I did…at Eiji's wedding.”

Eiji's wedding. It was not a memory Oishi tried to remember since he felt foolish for getting so drunk he had to be carried back to his room.

“I was the one who took you back to your room. Put you to bed. Even laid next to you until you fell asleep. I told you then that Fuji and I had broken up, and I hoped that you would give up on Eiji. Maybe give me a chance...” The captain blushed at his confession.

Oishi ran a hand through his hair, trying to make sense of what he was hearing. “Okay...so you told me once, when I was drunk, that you and Fuji had broken up, but it's been 5 years since you moved here. We come to this beach house every weekend. You couldn't find the time to mention it to me again?”

“Well, when you didn't respond to my confession at Eiji's wedding, I figured you didn't like me in that way. Fuji told me not to give up and suggested maybe you didn't remember anything I said that night. So I devised a plan, thinking a slow strategy would be the best. I was determined to win you away from Eiji. Unrequited love is pretty hard to beat.”

“Fuji?” You and Fuji...he has visited...” For being a grown man, Oishi could not believe how quickly his jealousy could rage up.

Tezuka smiled. Encouraged by the blushing man standing in front of him, he stepped closer, taking Oishi's hand in his own. “Regardless, we're still friends. We shared a lot of our life together. Just like Eiji will always be a part of your life, Fuji will be a part of mine. He even left me this after his last visit.” Tezuka reached into his pocket and pulled out a well-worn, folded piece of paper. Opening it, he read aloud:

Life is too short to wake up with regrets. So love the people who treat you right. Forget about the one's that don't. Believe everything happens for a reason. If you get a second chance, grab it with both hands. If it changes your life, let it. Nobody said life would be easy, they just promised it would be worth it.

Tezuka, you have a second chance. Go to Oishi. Fuji.

“Well, you are quite the romantic Buchou.” Oishi had to laugh a little as Tezuka turned bright red.

“And if you share that with the staff, I promise you I will take that stupid Snake game and crush it with a hammer.”

Oishi laughed, but he was practically floating, figuring he would explode if he heard any more. “But 10 years? You really did take your time.” Smiling, the two men leaned into each other, allowing their lips to gently kiss, sealing their relationship.

The tide was coming in, washing over them, and burying their feet in sand. In a romantic gesture, Tezuka stepped forward and attempted to swoop Oishi up and carry him back to the house for a day of non-stop, unadulterated love making. Instead, he was immediately sucked back down by the sand, and in one big unromantic gesture, he fell, pulling Oishi down with him.

Immediately following the fall, a wave came crashing over the men, completely soaking them. “Salt water...oh that stings.” Tezuka's eyes were closed tight, while Oishi spat out a mouthful of ocean.

“Okay, beach sex – not so good.” Tezuka sat up, helping up his new lover.

Oishi crawled up onto his ex-captain's lap, slighting rubbing their hips together, causing them both to moan gently. “Well, usually, you do it a little further up to avoid the waves. Maybe I can show you later tonight.”

“I'll bring the blanket.” Tezuka bit down on the side of Oishi's neck, leaving one of many bite marks that would be in their future. Licking the red mark, he whispered, “Let's continue this inside. I think the neighbors have had enough fun for the day.”

Walking back into the house, Tezuka pulled Oishi to him, whispering into his ear. “But my plan isn’t complete yet. As my co-captain, it's your duty to make sure all my plans are successful, right?”

“Uh...I'm not sure...” The cardiologist was confused, figuring that he was not able to think currently since his blood had all rushed south.

“My plan included having my “special someone” move in.” Standing on the porch steps, Tezuka turned, looking hopefully at his best friend.

Smiling, Oishi placed his lover's hand against his lips, kissing each finger. Holding the warm palm against his cheek, he walked up the stairs to bring them closer together. “You're right. It is my duty to make sure your plans never fail. I like Honeyed Yellow.”

Cool off, gottis!

solanum_d — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 11:59:58 GMT

recipient: gottis_chan
title: Fast for Fear of Choking
beta: ichigo and kurayamihimitsu
pairing/characters: Eiji/Oishi
rating: G
disclaimer: This story is based upon characters and situations created and owned by Konomi Takeshi. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
summary: Oishi has been running away for a long time. He can no longer refuse to do what needs to be done just because there is a slight chance of failure.

-*-

It was hot.

Oishi leaned back in his chair, tossed his pen on the desk and moved to loosen the tie that was currently strangling him. A bead of sweat slid down the back of his neck and slowly trickled down the curve of his spine to join the increasingly wet patch of shirt currently stuck to his skin. Shiny dress shoes and their accompanying black socks lay abandoned underneath the desk and Oishi stretched his toes lazily, glancing at his watch. He wasn't done work for another two hours.

Correction: he wasn't done paperwork for another two hours.

Sometimes Oishi wondered if all of the years of school were worth fulfilling his dream of becoming a doctor. Certainly his parents thought so, their financial future secure once their son opened up his own general practice. But, then again, becoming a doctor was what his parents expected. Oishi could barely remember a time where he hadn't wanted to become a doctor. He supposed that at some point he probably wanted to be something else, but somewhere along the way his parents' dreams became his own.

It wasn't as though being a doctor was bad, dissatisfying, or anything along those lines. But, the road to becoming a doctor took Oishi in a direction that he wasn't expecting. After Seigaku, he stayed in Tokyo for high-school, attending Kaisei, a private academy. Oishi hadn't expected to go to the same high-school as Eiji, as Eiji had been opting for a less expensive school. However, Oishi had expected to at least keep in touch with the rest of his teammates, especially Eiji.

Maintaining contact with anyone from Seigaku had been very difficult. Not only was Oishi the only one who applied for Kaisei, but the school's strong reputation for academics wasn't a joke. There was barely any time to continue the activities that Oishi had enjoyed in junior-high, such as student council, swimming, and tennis, in addition to preparation for school events such as sports festivals, cultural festivals, and the annual boat race along Toda River. Leisurely time with friends outside of school was very little. Every spare moment that Oishi had outside of clubs and school activities was spent attacking the never-ending pile of homework assigned. It didn't matter how hard Oishi worked, the stack of assignments and projects maintained a constant level; for every bit of work Oishi finished, there was something else to take its place.

Of course Oishi did make an effort to get together with his friends, but their different schedules made meetings very difficult to work out. Oishi only ever saw Fuji and Tezuka at Christmas when they returned from studying abroad. Momoshiro, Kaidou, and Echizen had stayed at Seigaku of course, for the first and second years of highschool, respectively. Oishi had managed to make it to one or two prefectural matches each year, but anything outside of the Tokyo area was simply too much time out of his day that he couldn't afford to take. Taka-san was probably the friend that Oishi saw the most, usually once every couple of weeks when he stopped by the sushi shop to pick up dinner. Inui was the team-mate that Oishi didn't see at all after leaving Seigaku. Oishi smiled a bit at the memory of Inui's ominous green notebook and the almost maniacal glint of his glasses. Inui probably hadn't changed a bit over the years; his thirst for data probably took him to the top of both his high-school and university classes.

That left Eiji. Of course Eiji was the one person he had maintained the most contact with. As busy as Oishi was, Eiji still managed to worm himself into Oishi's busy schedule. Eiji had continued playing tennis, even if it was only recreationally. There were a handful of times where Oishi would find himself dragged off to the local courts by his friend. Eiji always came prepared with rackets and balls and the enthusiasm to wallop whoever was unfortunate enough to accept his challenge of a doubles match; without the daily practice, their synchronization was a little off, but it didn't matter because they still won every time. If he didn't drag Oishi to the courts, Eiji would stop by the house frequently, chattering away about anything and everything while Oishi studied.

Eiji was a really good friend. The grin that had slid onto Oishi's face at the thought of Eiji faltered a little.

Correction: Eiji had been a really good friend.

The phone startled Oishi out of his reverie. It was his mother. She wanted to know if he was going to come home for Tanabata next week. Of course he was, he said, hastily shoving his paperwork aside and yanking open a drawer to fish for his pocketbook. Was it the middle of summer already? How could he have lost track of time so easily?

The same way you lost track of your friends so easily. You are too focused on your own work to think about others.

Oishi let the phone fall noisily back onto its cradle with a little more force than was necessary after saying goodbye. Stupid. He hadn't gone home for Tanabata at all since moving to Fukuoka. Sure, his mother asked every year, but there was the slight chance that he could bump into Eiji. He couldn't believe he had said that he would go home. What was he thinking?

Eiji.

Of course. Oishi never could think clearly when Eiji was around. And now, even thinking about Eiji distracted him. There wasn't anything that he could do now after telling his mother he would go. It wasn't like he couldn't afford the flight and he worked more than enough hours to warrant a small vacation. In fact, he hadn't taken any vacation since opening his practice, New Year's and Golden Week aside.

Oishi shut his pocketbook quickly with a sigh. A tattered piece of paper fluttered across his desk and Oishi jumped out of his chair to grab it. No, it wasn't a piece of paper, it was a photograph. Oishi didn't have to turn the photo over to know what it was of. The worn edges and deep creases were telltale enough. The photo paper, overly smooth from years of handling, was comforting, familiar under Oishi's fingers.

It's all your fault.

Slowly Oishi flipped the photograph over and his grip tightened. Eiji's bright smile stared up at Oishi, his one arm haphazardly slung across Oishi's shoulders and the other delivering a victory sign. The Oishi in the photograph shied away from the camera a bit, a light blush across his cheeks and his arm gripping Eiji's shoulder. It had been taken after the Nationals in their final year. That was the last time the team had all been together. It was that moment where they were at the top of the world and everything was perfect. Well, Oishi knew better now than to think that perfect things existed. Nothing was permanent. Nothing was forever. Nothing ever stayed the same.

With a sigh, Oishi tucked the photo back into his pocketbook and started to pack up his briefcase. There was no point in staying in the office; Oishi was too distracted to even think about finishing paperwork. He put his socks and shoes back on, his damp shirt clinging to his skin even more now than it had an hour ago. A shower would be good and then he could look into getting a flight back to Tokyo. Oishi tightened his tie and picked up his briefcase, hesitating only a moment to shut off the lights before locking his office door and stepping outside into the humid Fukuoka summer air.

It was definitely too hot.

-*-

It had been easier than expected to book a flight, more expensive than usual, but relatively painless other than that. Oishi hated airplanes. Being squished next to some random stranger and confined to your seat with only your thoughts for entertainment was torturous. Although he thought daydreaming and reminiscing was a waste of time, Oishi had found himself doing it more and more lately, especially after thinking about what his former classmates were up to the other day. Of course he was always focused with his patients, but when it came to paperwork, admittedly his least favourite part of his job, Oishi couldn't help but continue thinking about how easily he gave up his friends in favour of his education.

During the flight, Oishi wasn't left with much else to do other than think. He had forgotten his music player on his desk at home and even though he had brought paperwork with him to do, there wasn't much room to write, let alone set any sort of paper down. The flight was a little too short for an in-flight movie and he couldn't make conversation with the Obaa-chan sleeping beside him whose mouth was wide open, letting out little snorts every few minutes or so. So, Oishi was left to stare out the window to pass the time.

Eiji was the friend most difficult to give up.

Correction: abandon. Eiji was the friend it was most difficult to leave behind, even if he was the reason why Oishi left in the first place.

It really had been all Oishi's fault anyway. When that picture was taken at the end of Nationals, Oishi could remember the euphoric feeling he had. It was a mixture of excitement and awe and… something more. When Echizen had won the final match, Eiji had grabbed Oishi which wasn't unusual in itself as Eiji was a very touchy-feely sort of person. In his excitement, or what Oishi had attributed to excitement, Eiji had kissed him on the cheek. The picture that was nestled safely away in his pocketbook had been taken shortly after that had happened. And that feeling hadn't left him. Even now, over ten years later, Oishi could still remember that rush of dizziness and the burning sensation in the pit of his stomach.

Oishi let out a long breath and rested his head against the window. The cool touch of glass didn't provide any comfort though.

After Nationals, Oishi wasn't the same. He tried to forget about what Eiji did and the only way he could do that was by studying. If he was studying he wasn't thinking about Eiji or Nationals or that kiss. The more Oishi studied, the calmer he felt. Studying was safe; it was predictable and comfortable and didn't make his heart beat a zillion times a minute.

Highschool provided Oishi with an excuse to study even more. Even if he had wanted to dwell upon the nature of his and Eiji's relationship, he honestly didn't have time. When Eiji did drag him out or came over, neither of them brought up the kiss. It was like the kiss never happened. Eiji didn't act any differently and he never tried kissing Oishi again. For the sake of his own sanity, Oishi pushed those weird feelings away whenever he was around Eiji and it was almost normal.

The real trouble came when they graduated high-school. Again, Oishi didn't expect to go to the same university as Eiji, but he didn't expect Eiji to forgo university or college altogether. They had met at the place where their dumpster had used to be. Oishi wanted to talk to Eiji about the two offers he had received for medical school and Eiji also said he had something he wanted to discuss. Oishi had let Eiji go first because he looked like he couldn't wait another second without telling someone. Eiji told him excitedly that he wanted to jump into the work force right away because he had a job offer from his part-time job to move into full-time hours. As well, apparently there was some motorcycle that he was dying to get and he didn't want to wait another three or four years to buy it. Eiji said that he could always go back to university later if he wanted to but, for the moment, he just wanted to try out different things and figure out what he really wanted to do.

Oishi didn't know what to say. He didn't even know that Eiji had gotten into motorcycles. Somewhere along the way the subject had never come up. Or, maybe, Oishi had just forgotten about it. It wouldn't have been the first time Eiji had mentioned something and he had simply nodded while continuing to concentrate on his work. So, being the overly-worrisome person he was, Oishi tried to talk Eiji out of throwing away university for the sake of a motorcycle. He wasn't trying to be mean and he wasn't trying to demean Eiji's desire for independence; Oishi only wanted the best for his very best friend. Heh, Oishi scoffed. Some friend I was.

Now, as Oishi looked back upon the whole situation, he could understand why Eiji was so angry with him. Oishi was selfish. What he thought at the time was a good intention, Oishi now realized was nothing more than a desperate attempt to not let anything else change. They were supposed to go to university and Eiji was supposed to continue to come over and drag him to the tennis court or bounce around his room, chattering on about the latest gossip. Nothing was supposed to change until after they had graduated university; they still had four more years left!

Instead, everything changed. Everything had changed after that kiss. Everything changed when they went to different high-schools. Everything changed when Oishi decided to study more and listen less to the person he called his best friend. That evening Eiji walked away angry and hurt and Oishi, thinking it was the best thing to do at the time, decided on his own and accepted the offer from the medical school in Fukuoka instead of the offer from the medical school at the University of Tokyo. It was so stupid. They should have talked about it… about everything. Somehow, somewhere along the way, the Goldenpair bond had faded and Oishi couldn't even tell what Eiji was thinking anymore. Perhaps it was for the best, Oishi remembered thinking at the time. If he was in Fukuoka, he wouldn't be reminded of Eiji so much.

Oishi couldn't help himself and he hunched forward to grab almost desperately for his briefcase which he had shoved under the seat during take-off. He slid the photograph from between the pages of his pocketbook and didn't even try to hold back the smile that spread across his face. Eiji still had that effect on him, even all of these years later. Oishi slid his thumb across Eiji's grinning face and wondered if he still kept that plaster stuck on his cheek or if it had migrated elsewhere on his face; maybe he didn't wear one at all anymore.

"Is that your boyfriend there?"

Oishi nearly jumped out of his seat, but was held firmly in place by his seatbelt. Instead, he settled for letting out a boyish yelp and held a hand against his chest, his heartbeat thumping quickly under his fingertips.

"Did I scare you?" The not-still-sleeping Obaa-chan in the seat next to him leaned over to peer at the now crumpled picture in Oishi's hand.

Oishi didn't say anything and instead swallowed hard. He took a deep breath to calm himself down and tried to smooth the photo out against his knee. After a moment, Oishi turned to the old woman who had since then settled back into her seat and shakily held the picture out to her.

"No, he's not my boyfriend."

"Ahh….," the old woman replied wisely, grasping the picture in her gnarled hands and staring at it for a minute. "Are you sure?"

Oishi blinked and took the picture back from the old woman. "Of course. I don't even talk to him anymore."

"Such a shame," the old lady shook her head in disappointment. "He's a good looking boy."

"Was." Oishi couldn't help correcting and mentally berated himself for having such a private conversation with a complete stranger. "He was… I don't know if he is now. I mean… I haven't seen him in a long time."

"Couldn't have been too long ago," the old women turned slowly, carefully, as old people tend to do, and stared back and forth between Oishi and the picture. "You look the same, a bit worse for the wear, but mostly still the same. It's never too late to fix things. Don't ever go to sleep without making amends."

Oishi didn't know what to say to this and let out a long breath when the old woman gave him a toothy grin and shut her eyes once again. After that, Oishi tucked the photo back into his pocketbook, closed his eyes, and feigned sleep for the rest of the flight.

-*-

It was good to be back in Tokyo. Sure, the air was a little dirtier than Fukuoka, and it was much more crowded, but there was something about Tokyo that surpassed all of the not-so-good aspects. It was strange how Oishi had left Tokyo wanting to leave all of his memories behind and escape to a new place, yet now he was having trouble figuring out why he had to go all the down to Fukuoka to do that; he wasn't someone who avoided problems. Then again, Eiji always had a way of making Oishi feel different.

His house was quiet when he arrived. His tentative 'tadaima' went unanswered and upon removing his shoes Oishi found that his parents had already left for the festival. It was a little early Oishi decided, looking at the silly bunny clock that was still sitting in its usual spot on the living room bookshelf, even more worn and chipped than he remembered. Maybe his parents had to do something else first. Whatever they were doing, the note his mother had left taped on top of the getabako said to meet around nine o'clock at their usual meeting place in Hiratsuka. Oishi wondered if his sister was going to come as well.

His old bedroom was exactly the way that he had left it Oishi found after dragging his suitcase upstairs. He had thought his parents would have at least re-decorated it after he had graduated. Maybe his parents always knew that he would make his way back to Tokyo at some point. Oishi felt his heart twist a little at how understanding his parents were with his sudden decision to go to school at the other end of the country. He really had been selfish, hadn't he?

As he glanced around his old room, a wave of nostalgia washed over him. He had a lot of memories in this room. His fish tank was no longer sitting on his shelf; he had left his old one here and started a new one when he moved away. The fish were probably all dead by now and no one else in his family would have bothered to take care of any new ones. His bookshelves were still crammed full of books and tennis magazines and a quick look in his closet showed that his games were still stacked in a corner and his clothes were still hanging up, just as he had left them. When Oishi moved to shut the door, the corner snagged on something and it fell against the back of the door with a thud and a light tinkle.

Oishi bent down to pick up whatever fell and went still when he realized it was his old tennis bag. He was silent as he stared unseeingly at the dusty bag. Why was it here? Oishi distinctly remembered leaving his bag by the trash can when he cleaned his room out before leaving for Fukuoka. He blinked and shook his head. Someone must've taken it back inside when he wasn't paying attention. As Oishi stood back up and set the bag upright once again, his hand brushed along the silly maneki neko charm that dangled off the zipper and it tinkled softly. Eiji had given him that charm after they had gone to Nationals in their second year at Seigaku.

Oishi quickly slammed the door shut and continued to look around his old room, pushing the thought of Eiji to the back of his mind with the rest of his memories of his friend. Nothing much else had changed in his room; even his comforter was still the same. On the bed there was a dark blue yukata laid out. It looked brand new and Oishi couldn't remember if he had packed one in his suitcase. Thank goodness for mothers, Oishi thought as he tucked his suitcase under her bed and changed into the yukata, the fabric light and comfortable over his shoulders. After making sure he had enough money for the train, Oishi was out the door, making sure to grab a pair of sandals on his way out.

The train was even more crowded than usual and Oishi found himself crammed into the corner of the car, someone's arm pressed awkwardly against his back and a shopping bag crushed along his side. It really was good to be home; the trains never were this crowded in Fukuoka. The half-hour ride dragged on as more and more people impossibly crammed themselves into the car at each stop. Oishi took in a deep breath after escaping the sardine-packed train and took a moment to orient himself. Even though he hadn't been to the Hiratsuka festival since high-school, Oishi found that after a couple of minutes of wandering, the layout of all the vendors hadn't changed too much since then. A few more food stalls had popped up and perhaps a few more games, but it was still mostly the same.

Oishi wandered up and down the stalls, pausing every so often to watch someone play a game or stop to grab a bite to eat. There were couples everywhere, young and old alike, laughing and smiling and chattering on about anything and everything. When he came to a cold tofu stand, Oishi slowed down and before he knew it he had purchased two boxes. It was a force of habit. The last time Oishi had been to Hiratsuka was when he was seventeen, and of course he had come with Eiji. Oishi wasn't fond of tofu, but Eiji was, and it had become somewhat of a tradition for them to stop and buy two boxes. One box was for Eiji and the second one Eiji usually ended up finishing after Oishi had picked at it for a bit.

Stupid. Oishi berated himself and walked around until he found a small fence to lean against. With the boxes of tofu sitting on the ground next to him, Oishi pressed his palms against his eyes. He shouldn't have come. Every year his mother asked him if he was coming home for Tanabata and every year he had declined. This year he had said yes without even thinking about it. He had been distracted, too caught up in something else to answer properly.

"Oishi-san?"

Oishi jumped and looked around dazed while his heart thudded loudly in his throat. No, it wasn't Eiji; he would never forget that voice.

"Taka-san?" Oishi asked as the tall boy, no… tall man stepped closer toward him. Taka hadn't changed a bit, though he was taller than Oishi remembered. Taka's eyes were still a warm brown and the same shy smile sat on his face. Taka ran a hand nervously through his hair.

"I thought it was you. I didn't know you were back in Tokyo." Taka offered with a smile and a quick bow.

Oishi jumped to his feet to return the bow. "I arrived a couple of hours ago, actually. It was a last minute vacation. How have you been?" He was eager to turn the attention away from himself and Taka took the bait.

"Great." Taka motioned for Oishi to follow him and so Oishi did, grabbing the tofu and brushing his butt off before following.

Taka came to a stop in front of a sushi stand where a young woman sat with a child bouncing happily on her knee. "My father is going to retire next year, so I'm going to take over the restaurant from him."

That was to be expected. Oishi remembered Taka talking about eventually replacing his father in the shop. So far, it looked like Taka's dream was coming true.

"Kumiko, this is Oishi Shuuichirou from my old junior high tennis team," Taka introduced, taking the baby from Kumiko as she stood to give a bow in greeting.

The baby grabbed at Taka's nose and let out a high pitched giggle, squiggling in his arms. "Oishi, this is my wife Kumiko and this is our daughter Yumiko."

Oishi couldn't help but arch his eyebrows up in surprise. Married. With a kid. Wow. Oishi managed a bow in return, "Nice to meet you."

Kumiko had a sweet smile just as Taka did and she picked up a package of sushi and held it out in offering. "It's very nice to meet you, Oishi-san. I think you were the last one of Takashi's old tennis friends that I had yet to meet, right dear?"

Taka nodded in agreement before handing Yumiko back to her mother. "I know Echizen and Momoshiro are around here somewhere; they stopped by earlier. And Fuji is supposed to be dropping by too." Taka patted a plastic-wrapped tray of sushi that looked suspiciously like it was filled with wasabi.

"It's unfortunate that you weren't able to make it back to Tokyo after Echizen won the AIG Open a few years ago. We closed the shop for a celebration afterwards; it was just like after Nationals, but with more people of course. I think you were the only one from the old team that couldn't make it." Taka walked over to the rice cooker and started to paddle some into a bowl.

"Ahh…." Oishi trailed off, accepting the sushi from Kumiko. AIG Tournament? He racked his brain trying to figure out when that was.

"Yeah, I think you had a conference or something. At least, I think that's what Inui said. You're a doctor, right? That's really great. That's what you wanted, right?"

Taka smoothed out a bamboo mat and gave a sheepish grin. "Working outside for the festival isn't the same as the restaurant, but it'll do. I usually use the mats during the festivals. This is the shop's third or fourth year here, but the first one with just Kumiko and me."

For some reason, the fact that he couldn't remember Echizen even winning the AIG Tournament bothered Oishi. He obviously had replied to say he couldn't make it. He nodded to Taka who was quickly rolling out futo-maki rolls with effortless precision.

"Well," Oishi cleared his throat and bowed to Kumiko who had set the baby down in a playpen in order to serve the steadily increasing line-up. "I think I'll let you guys get back to what you were doing. It looks like this is a popular place."

Taka gave another grin. "Sorry that we couldn't chat for long. Don't be a stranger, Oishi. You are always welcome to stop by the shop!"

Oishi smiled in return. Taka was really too nice. "I will," he promised, shifting the packages in his hands into a more comfortable position.

"Oh," Taka stopped rolling to look at the boxes Oishi was carrying. "Is that tofu from Tanaka-ya a little further down?"

Oishi looked down to the boxes. "Yeah, I think so."

"If you bump into Kikumaru, tell him not to forget to pick up his boxes of tofu before he goes; he left them sitting in the cooler so that he could go and write his tanzaku."

Oishi froze and gripped the boxes tightly. Eiji was somewhere around here? Why didn't Taka mention it before?! "Ah- hum-" Oishi cleared his throat and tried again. "Alright, I will if I see him," he gurgled out.

"Thanks." Taka gave him a worried look. "Say… are you okay?"

Oishi nodded shakily and tried to smile. It felt more like a grimace. "Yeah, I'm fine. Look, I'll make sure to stop by the shop before I go back to Fukuoka, okay?"

"Sure thing!" Taka replied cheerily before returning his attention to his sushi.

"Take care!" Kumiko waved goodbye as Oishi turned away.

-*-

Eiji. Eiji was somewhere around… here.

Oishi gulped for air noisily. He gripped the rim of a garbage can tightly as he stood in front of it. He wasn't going to throw up, he told himself. This is ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

"It is not!" Oishi scolded himself aloud. But, it was a lie. He was always lying to himself. All of the years of frustration and anxiety were no one else's fault but his own.

This is stupid. Great, now Oishi was talking to himself aloud. He really shouldn't have come. Maybe he could feign being sick and leave early. Yes, that was a good idea. All he had to do was meet his parents and then he could go home. Yeah, he was going to do that.

Oishi wiped his hands on his sleeves and then picked up the tofu and sushi from where he had dropped it on the ground. It was such a waste of money, but Oishi wasn't going to eat the tofu anyway, so he decided to throw it out. It was two less things to carry and his parents probably wouldn't eat it.

"I hope you're not going to waste perfectly good tofu," a voice interrupted Oishi just as he was about to let go of the boxes. Oishi wasn't surprised as he had been when Taka came up to him. Instead, his back stiffened as Eiji came to stand beside him.

"Mou…" Eiji grabbed the boxes out of Oishi's hand and opened one. "It hasn't even been touched! Geez, Oishi."

Oishi stood, frozen still, and watched Eiji grabbed the tofu between his fingers and took a huge bite. Eiji took another bite and then another until it was gone. Then he opened the second box. He was half way through the second piece of tofu when, as though he suddenly remembered Oishi's presence, Eiji turned and offered it.

"Sorry! I left my boxes over at Taka's booth and haven't had any yet. Did you want the last piece?" Eiji grinned and broke the spell that had glued Oishi into one place.

"No, you know I don't like it." Oishi didn't mean for it to come out accusingly, but Eiji just shrugged it off and popped the last piece in his mouth and tossed the boxes into the can.

"I know you didn't, but you could have acquired a taste for it. It's been a while."

"Yeah." Oishi was sheepish. Here he had been fretting and worrying about possibly bumping into Eiji again, and here he was, as cheery as usual, acting as though nothing had happened.

Oishi took a small step back to get a better look at Eiji. Eiji hadn't grown much since he had last saw him, a few inches at most, but enough to out-do Oishi by a little bit. His hair had darkened and was now a deeper, more rustic red. Eiji's face was free from any plasters and his eyes were still as bright as Oishi remembered.

"You…." Oishi started before trailing off and looking to the ground. Oishi rubbed his hands on his sleeves once more, but this time to get rid of his sweaty palms. "You're still the same," he finished lamely, swallowing what he really wanted to say. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything.

Eiji turned and levelled his gaze on Oishi. "I'm taller than you now," was all he said and crossed his arms. Eiji's smile fell away and his mouth set in a serious line.

This was it. This was Oishi's chance. Do it. Don't run away this time.

Once Oishi looked up at Eiji, he couldn't pull his gaze away. Oishi's palms were collecting sweat again and he wiped them again on his sleeve. His mother would have a conniption if she caught him dirtying his clothing in such a childish manner.

Oishi wetted his lips. He gripped his sleeves in his hands and toed the grass. God, why was this so difficult? Why was he such a coward? He was supposed to be a professional. He had many years to think of something to say and now it was the time to say it. But, there was nothing. Nothing to go by. It was just him and Eiji, like it should be. It shouldn't be difficult. Being with Eiji was supposed to be easy.

Eiji let out a small sigh and shook his head. "Have you written your tanzaku yet?"

Oishi shook his head. "I just… arrived. I mean, I was killing time before meeting my parents and bumped into Taka-san."

Eiji cracked a smile again and grabbed Oishi's hand. "I know," Eiji said as they weaved in and around groups of people and colourful decorations. "I asked him to go and talk to you."

"What?" Oishi stopped and pulled Eiji around to face him. "You knew I was here?"

Eiji rolled his eyes and gave Oishi a 'well, duh' look before tugging him along again. "Of course. Your mother told me you were coming, so I waited by the station."

Mother?!

"She's been trying to get you back to Tokyo for a long time now. I don't know how she did it, but I'm glad you came." Eiji finally came to a stop in front of a table filled with tanzaku.

Eiji dropped Oishi's hand so that he could pick up a piece of paper and a pen. "Here," he said and shoved the paper into Oishi's hand. "Make your wish."

Oishi stared down at the piece of paper for a moment before setting it back down on the table. He drew a deep breath and let out a dry laugh. "I don't think I deserve to make a wish." He admitted softly. "I've been a horrible person. I've been a horrible friend. I can't believe you're even talking to me."

Eiji's mouth was drawn into that serious line again when Oishi dared to glance up. "You're not horrible, Oishi. Stupid maybe, but not horrible. Everyone deserves the chance to make a wish." Eiji crinkled his nose. "Well… except for murderers maybe!"

"Eiji!" Oishi protested, surprised at how nonchalant Eiji's attitude was toward him. "I was horrible to you when you told me you wanted to get that motorcycle. I mean, I wasn't trying to be mean or to make you go to university… but I was just worried about you. Motorcycles are dangerous and while university isn't for everyone, you would have made it…."

Oishi drew in a deep breath and tried once again to get the words out. "Look, Eiji, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for running away. I'm sorry for ignoring you and for not being a better friend. I'm sorry for telling you what to do with your life. I'm… I'm just really sorry!"

Oishi fell into a deep bow and bit furiously on his lip

"Oiiiishiiiii!" Eiji's voice called out in a familiar whine. "Get up!"

Oishi shook his head furiously and stayed bowed. He swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut as they began to burn with the telltale sign of oncoming tears. His hands clutched desperately at his knees and he swallowed the lump that was stuck in his throat.

"Mou!" Eiji grabbed Oishi by the arms and forced him upwards.

Oishi shook his head again and wiped furiously at his face like an upset child. "I'm sorry." He repeated stubbornly.

Eiji cocked his head to the side a let out a chuckle. "Oishi, you idiot! It's fine! If you need me to, I'll say I forgive you. But, I wasn't mad at you for running away or for telling me what to do. And, we both weren't good friends, so it was just as much my fault."

"But-" Oishi started to protest.

"But what?" Eiji broke out into a grin and pulled Oishi into a tight hug. "You were right. And I didn't get a bike. You left before I had a chance to tell you."

Oishi tightened his grip and buried his nose into the crook of Eiji's neck. Eiji's scent was still the same.

"You didn't get a bike?" Oishi asked, his voice muffled against Eiji's skin. Eiji was right; he was a couple of inches taller than Oishi now.

Eiji pulled away a bit and stuck his tongue out childishly at a passing old couple who had stopped to gawk at such a public display of affection. "Yeah, I thought about what you said and you were right. I went to university, just like you said I should."

"Oh?" Oishi pulled Eiji back into the hug and let out a long breath. As cliché as it was to say, Oishi felt like he was home. He had missed this. He had missed Eiji so much. He missed them. His eyes began to burn again and this time Oishi didn't stop the tears from coming.

"Hey now!" Eiji patted Oishi's back a little awkwardly. "Aren't you supposed to be the motherly one?!"

Oishi let out a laugh and pulled away to wipe his face. Yup, his mother was definitely going to scold him, adult or not, for making his clothes dirty. "I don't think anyone's called me that in years," he admitted, reaching out a hand to wipe Eiji's damp neck dry. "And… aren't mothers supposed to be emotional?"

Eiji grabbed Oishi's hand just as he was about to pull away and pushed up the sleeve of his yukata. He pressed his lips quickly against the top of Oishi's hand before letting go. "You know, we're not finished talking about this."

Oishi flushed a deep red at Eiji's affection and he stared down his hand in wonder. "Do you really mean it?"

"What?" Eiji's eyes danced mischievously. "Of course I do. And I think you owe me a zillion tennis matches and lots of ice cream for being so silly."

Oishi shook his head. "No. I mean, yes. Yeah, we need to talk. But, I meant- do you… were you serious just now? When y-you…." Oishi didn't think his face could get any redder; it felt like his cheeks were on fire. "Kissed me. N-now. A-and… back then. At N-nationals?"

Now it was Eiji's turn to turn red. "It took you long enough…" he muttered under his breath as he looked to the ground. "You didn't say anything, so I tried to forget about it. I waited for you to bring it up and you never did. So, that was the end of it."

"But…" Oishi trailed off. Geez, we're both pretty stupid. Oishi laughed.

Eiji's head flew up and he narrowed his gaze. "You'd better not be laughing at me."
Oishi managed to shake his head and calm down a bit. He grabbed Eiji's hand and placed a kiss on it before gazing up at his friend. "I'm not laughing at you. I'm laughing at how stupid we both are."

It looked as though a weight had been lifted off of Eiji's shoulders and he let out a deep breath. "Come on, our parents are waiting and while your mother is pretty patient, mine will bite my head off if we miss the fireworks." He grabbed Oishi's hand and then dropped it again. "Oh, you still need to fill out your tanzaku!"

Oishi shook his head and grabbed Eiji's hand again. As the two of them walked to the meeting place, they passed by Taka's booth and they both turned and smiled at each other. Oishi owed Taka… big time, though it was unlikely that Taka even had a choice in the matter; it was nearly impossible to say no to Eiji.

"Maybe we can send Taka and Kumiko out on a date and look after Yumiko for them!" Eiji suggested excitedly, as if he had read Oishi's mind. "She is sooooo cute, and she's just like her father. Quiet one moment and then as soon as she has a spoon in her hand, she's an unholy terror!"

Oishi raised a brow. "You seem to be really good friends with Taka?"

Eiji linked his arm through Oishi's and hugged it tightly. "Yeah, well… you were really busy during high-school and only seemed to really talk to Taka. So, I dragged all the information out of him that I could. And, I guess we somehow became really good friends along the way. Besides, every now and then he'll let me drag him down to the courts for a match or two!"

Oishi let out a laugh as Eiji broke out into more details about little Yumiko and her seemingly split personality.

Naw, Oishi didn't need to make a wish this year. While everything wasn't completely fixed and both he and Eiji were different people now, Oishi was determined to at least give it a shot. He hadn't been happy in a long time and now he was given a chance to make things right. If only he hadn't run away for so long…. But, then again, maybe it was supposed to work out this way. It was a learning experience for both of them and tonight, Oishi wouldn't go to bed without having made amends. Somehow, they'd make it work. They always did.

-*-

author notes:
Somehow the word count just ran away on me and I couldn't stop writing until this was finished at a whopping 7000 words! I'm sorry for the G rating on this fic, but I am absolute garbage at writing most of the things on your kink list. (;___;) I tried to go for a more psychological approach instead. I also picked this style of fic because aren't summer festivals the perfect setting for reunions? I picked the Tanabata festival because of the legend behind it. If you're not familiar with it, please go and Google it. The story doesn't have the same bittersweet ending as the legend, because I couldn't do that Oishi and Eiji, but I thought that the legend would work nicely with a reunion fic.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed your fic. I had a lot of fun writing it and to be honest, it makes me feel really nostalgic for summer festivals. If you ever get the opportunity to make it to Japan, make sure you go to at least one summer festival, if you haven't had the experience already!

(1) Kaisei Gakuen: http://www.kaiseigakuen.jp
(2) Tanabata: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Star_Festival
(3) Fukuoka University: http://www.fukuoka-u.ac.jp/english
(4) getabako: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Getabako
(5) Hiratsuka: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hiratsuka
(6) tanzaku: small pieces of paper that wishes are written on and then hung on bamboo

Cool off, Liz!

senshixdoukeshi — Sat, 06 Sep 2008 00:00:49 GMT

Recipient: wiccanlily
Title: Some Things Were Never Meant to be Seen
Beta: Nagi hughes_maes
Rating: PG for angry boys kissing
Pairings/Character: Akira KamioXMomoshiro Takashi, also Tachibana An, Kikumaru Eiji, and Oishi Syuichirou
Author’s Note: …yeah, I have no idea either. I blame the heat.

Some Things Were Never Meant to be Seen

If someone were to ask, every single member of the Fudomine regular tennis team would say that there was nothing they wouldn’t do for their captain. Absolutely anything that Tachibana asked for, they would do without question, and Kamio Akira was no different than any of the other members in that regard.

But still…

Tachibana rarely asked for anything from his teammates, except that they give their best on the courts. Even if he hadn’t adored him, it would have been hardfor Akira to say no to Tachibana. After all, how rude would that be? “Sorry, senpai, I know you never ask for anything, but I’m going to say no anyway.” Yeah. It would never happen. Especially since Akira would gladly do anything Tachibana asked even if he were to do so on a constant basis.

Yeah, but still…

Besides, this was a prime assignment. It was easy, it was fast, it was something most guys on the team would probably kill to have an excuse to do, and of course he got to stay inside a building that was kept as frigid at the Arctic while everyone outside suffered in the mid-June heat and humidity. There was absolutely no reason for Akira to be unhappy with the way this summer afternoon was going, none at all.

But still…bikini shopping?

Akira dropped his head into his hands and closed his eyes for a moment until the urge to groan passed again. At least An was a fast shopper. At least she wasn’t picky or the sort of girl who insisted on going to big-name department stores in Shibuya or somewhere like that. She was just a girl who needed a new swimsuit for the summer and unfortunately her brother was too busy preparing the new training regimen to take her, so he’d asked a trusted teammate and friend to go with her instead. Akira probably should have been grateful. It was like a sign of supreme faith from Tachibana: “I know most of you guys have a thing for my sister, but it’s okay, you can go ahead and take her shopping for skimpy swimwear all on your own. I totally trust you with her.” It was a compliment so unexpected that it almost went straight to his head.

Didn’t make any of this less embarrassing, though.

With a faint sigh, Akira lifted his head and tried not to wince as the store announcements gave way to another annoyingly chirpy, cheesy piece of canned music. That was probably the worse part. He couldn’t stand that sort of elevator music. It grated on his nerves, slowed down his thoughts, and set his temper on edge. Next time, to hell with chivalry and politeness…he was bringing his headphones with him.

As he contemplated what he could shove into his ears to block out the sound, An twirled her way out of the dressing room in something pink and frilly and tiny enough that Akira felt his ears burn at the sight of her. “Well?” she asked cheerfully as she turned in a slow circle. “What about this one?”

Akira wished that she would pick something that left a little bit more to the imagination. She was his captain’s sister, for crying out loud! “Whatever you like best. It’s your suit, after all.”

An’s smile widened, and Akira thought, not for the first time, that she was fully aware of how uncomfortable all of this was for him and had no problem at all doing everything she could to see how much she could push him. “Thank you. I don’t know, though. I think it might be too young-looking. I’ll be back in a second, I want to try on one more before I decide.”

The music changed to an oddly flat instrumental version of an old folk song, and Akira glared at the speakers in annoyance. “Mmmhmm,” he managed, and wondered just how far team loyalty really extended.

An quirked an eyebrow in amusement and hurried back into the dressing room again before the testy redhead could notice her expression.

An interminable three minutes passed, in which Akira was nearly able to immerse himself in the music in his own head, when a perky sales associate swooped down in front of him and broke his concentration completely. “Welcome! Can I help you find anything?”

“No,” he replied carefully. “I’m fine.”

“We have some lovely sales today in men’s sportswear, or if you’re looking for something for a lady friend-”

Akira jumped suddenly to his feet and stared at her in disbelief. “I told you, I’m fine.”

“Of course, sir. If there’s anything I can help you with later-”

“There’s nothing!” Akira snapped, his hands clenching in frustration. “I’m fine! I don’t need any help!”

The young woman stared at him for a moment longer, and then hurried off in the opposite direction, glancing back at him nervously all the way.

All of the energy ran out of the agile player at once, and with another sigh Akira dropped back into his chair, trying to remind himself that at least An would be making her choice after trying on this last bikini. If she found one here that she liked. If she didn’t decide to go to a different store to keep looking. If, if if…no, it was better not to think about that. An wouldn’t do that to him. She was far too classy and smart to spend all day shopping like any other shallow girl. He just wouldn’t even think about the fact that she might do exactly that, just to see how long he would put up with it.

Akira ran a hand through his hair and glared at no one in particular as his bangs fell back into his eyes. Yep. He was doomed to a day of humiliation spent waiting in the women’s clothing section, trying not to go bright red every single time An pranced out in progressively smaller and smaller suits, and listening to that stupid overly-cheerful torture music until his ears bled. His day could not get any worse.

“Don’t spend your sister’s money on running shoes. She asked you to do this as a favor.”

Akira’s ears perked up at a familiar voice in the distance.

“Awww, no fair! Can’t I just get her a cheaper dress instead, and then spend the leftover money?”

“Weren’t those shoes awfully expensive, though, Eiji-senpai?”

At the third voice, every hair on Akira’s body stood on end and his head snapped up in disbelief. “No way,” he breathed in horror. “Oh, no way!”

The three speakers finally came into view and his heart sank at the familiar sight of them. That annoyingly perky redhead was pouting at his doubles partner who just stared back at him with a disapproving look in his eyes. A second later that look was transferred to the third speaker at his next words. “How about we take the leftover money and hit up a burger place instead?” Momoshiro suggested wryly.

Akira slid down in his chair and tried to will himself invisible.

“We are not spending Eiji’s sister’s money on anything except what she asked for,” the Seigaku vice-captain replied firmly. “She trusted us to do this for her.”

“Hey, why should I have to be nice to her?” Kikumaru shot back triumphantly. “She wouldn’t even let me into the upstairs bathroom today until it was almost lunchtime, nya!”

“That’s no reason to-”

“Is that Kamio?” Momoshiro yelled suddenly and all eyes turned towards where Akira was trying to tell himself that this couldn’t possibly be the worst thing that could happen to him today, even if nothing worse was coming to mind right then.

“From Fudomine?” Oishi asked quietly. At the same time, Kikumaru pointed and cried, “Hey, it is him! Hi there! What are you doing here today?”

Momoshiro’s face had transformed into an expression of pure glee. “Why,” he asked smugly, “are you sitting outside the girl’s dressing room?”

Right. That’s it. Akira stood again and started to stalk over towards him, burning with embarrassment. “Listen, you-“

“Okay,” An called out as she stepped out of the dressing room yet again. “this is the last one! I…” Her voice trailed off as she studied the scene in front of her, and she broke into a wide grin. “Momo! What are you doing here?”

As Akira stared in shock, the fair-haired girl pushed past him towards Momoshiro and smiled up at him, glancing back to see how her brother’s teammate was reacting. Meanwhile, the dark-haired second year seemed to become a bit flustered, though not nearly as uncomposed as Akira felt right now. “Oh, An-chan! We’re helping Eiji-senpai find a new sundress for one of his sisters. She’s been sick and can’t go out yet.”

“She’s faking,” Kikumaru muttered under his breath. His doubles partner elbowed him gently and the two exchanged a look that Akira found infinitely suspicious.

“That’s so nice of you,” An replied before turning back to the red-faced, quivering figure that was a supremely frustrated and humiliated Akira. “Kamio-kun is just helping me pick out a new swimsuit for the summer. Aren’t you?”

“Tachibana-san asked me to,” he muttered, carefully avoiding Momoshiro’s piercing, triumphant gaze. Quit looking at me!

He didn’t need to be able to see An to hear the amusement in her voice. “And I’m so glad you said yes.”

“So Kamio-kun’s been spending all day looking at you in skimpy bikinis?” the cheery acrobat blurted out. “Ow! Oishi, don’t poke so hard!”

“I bet he didn’t mind coming along with you at all,” Momoshiro interrupted with only the faintest hint of jealousy in his voice. Akira doubted that anyone but him even heard it before it was concealed beneath flirtation again. “I like this one. It looks great on you.”

“Really?”

“I’m going to get something to drink,” Akira spat, and stalked off before anyone could come up with a response. Even if they had said something, he couldn’t hear a thing through the furious buzzing in his ears.

Stupid, stupid idiot…why did he have to show up here, today? I can’t stand it!

As the rows of clothing flashed by in the periphery, Akira dug his fingernails into his palms and pushed himself to move faster, faster, trying to get back into his usual rhythm. He had to get that back. He hated, absolutely hated the way that that stupid Seigaku loser always broke his concentration like that, throwing him off his stride and out of rhythm and completely out of control. That jerk, always showing up when Akira least expected it, ruining even his most peaceful moments with his posing and posturing and aggravating attitude…showing off like he wasn’t only good-looking in a boring, just-like-everyone-else kind of way, trying too hard to be cool and charming, flirting with An and doing everything he possibly could to drive Akira crazy…

Without noticing, he had come to the vending machine near the store restrooms. Akira stared at the rows of colorful plastic bottles and cans and grimly wondered at the fact that the village idiot of Seigaku back there couldn’t even color coordinate his outfits better than a drink company.

It took some waiting, but Akira’s blood had finally begun to cool when he decided on what to get to drink. He counted out the coins by hand, discovered that he had enough cash to get something for An as well, and felt himself cheering up just a bit more as he plinked out a short rhythm with the coins clinking into the machine. Only a second later, his cool was completely gone again. Of course the machine wasn’t releasing the drinks. He wasn’t a pessimist or anything, but really, with everything else that had gone on today, was he surprised at all? Akira tried entering the numbers again, but nothing happened. His drink didn’t even wiggle.

The store music began playing a song he’d heard three times that afternoon already, and Akira grabbed at his hair, growled, and kicked the machine as hard as he could.

“What, did the vending machine insult your hair or something?” asked a snide voice behind him. Akira let out a small scream of frustration and kicked the machine again.

“Oh, for…what is it?” he demanded as he turned to face Momoshiro. “I thought you were busy leering at An-chan like a dirty old man.”

The other boy’s eyebrows knitted briefly, but he brushed off the insult and smirked at the redhead as he held out a hanger with two tiny pieces of purple fabric hanging off of it. “I just thought you’d like to see which bikini she decided to get. It’s too bad you didn’t stay to see how nice she looked in it.”

If he didn’t uncurl his fists sometime soon, Akira’s palms would start bleeding from how hard his fingernails were cutting into them. “So?” he sputtered back, completely unnerved again. “It’s just a girl’s swimsuit. Grow up!”

It was a pretty weak comeback and judging from the grin on Momoshiro’s face, the other boy knew that just as well as he did. With that same irritating, self-satisfied smirk on his face, the spiky-haired brunette held the suit up in front of his and spread it over his front with one hand. “What do you think?” he teased. “It’s really cute, isn’t it?”

Akira’s face was on fire now. Great, now he was going to have the mental image of the buff Seigaku jerk in a purple string bikini branded in his mind for the rest of his life. Some things were never meant to be seen, or even imagined. “Knock it off!” he yelped. “Jeez, that’s the scariest thing I’ve ever seen…get out of here already!”

“You don’t like it?” Momoshiro asked in a fake flirtatious falsetto. “Not even on lovely An-chan? If you don’t appreciate me, Kamio-kun, I may just have to find someone else…”

“Are you brain damaged or something?” Akira shouted. “What’s your problem?”

“What’s your problem?” the other boy demanded as he lowered the hanger to his side. “Don’t you have a sense of humor at all?”

“Just leave me alone!” Without thinking, Akira jabbed his finger viciously into Momoshiro’s chest. “Go back to your friends and don’t talk to me or An-chan again!”

“I can talk to her if I want! Just because you’re jealous that she likes me better than you-”

“I could care less who she likes!” Akira yelled, too furious and flustered to care what he was saying or to notice how suddenly still the other boy had become. “Leave us alone and get out of here!”

“What do you mean you could care less who she likes?” Momoshiro shot back. “Why else would you hate me so much?”

A flash of panicked heat went through Akira and he took a single slow step forward until he was glaring right into Momoshiro’s face so there could be no doubt of his meaning. “What part of, ‘Go’ don’t you understand?”

The reply was dangerously quiet. “Get out of my face. Now.”

Akira leaned in deliberately, every inch of him vibrating with tension, and glared. “Make me.”

The next two seconds went by in a blur. There was a dullthud as the brunette slammed him backwards against the vending machine. Akira dug his fingers into the other boy’s shoulders even as he realized there was no way he would be able to push him away. Momoshiro’s eyes narrowed as he opened his mouth, probably to tell him to get his hands off of him, but Akira couldn’t have said what his expression looked like when the redhead slammed his own mouth down over the unspoken words. His own eyes were closed too tightly to see.

The hands gripping Akira’s arms tightened painfully over his bare flesh and he braced himself for whatever was coming next. He figured more shouting was a given, and there was a good chance he’d end up with a broken nose or a black eye, too, not to mention the bruises that were already forming under Momshiro’s fingers. But seconds ticked by, loudly tracked by the clock on the wall next to the vending machine, and the other boy didn’t move. His breath whistled shallowly out of his nose and tickled at Akira’s upper lip and his fingers dug in until Akira’s arms started to go numb from the pressure, but he didn’t move. Not until Akira hesitated and started to pull away in confusion…then Momoshiro’s fingers relaxed and he let out a small, shaking breath, and leaned in to kiss him back.

There was a suddenly clank from behind them loud as a gunshot that made both boys leap apart like they’d been electrocuted. Two pairs of startled eyes met, wild and unblinking. When another metallic clang sounded behind them, they both flinched but Akira noted with some satisfaction that only Momoshiro jumped. Akira turned slowly towards the vending machine, kneeled on legs that didn’t feel entirely capable of supporting him, and removed the two drinks that had finally fallen off their tracks for him to take.

As he pushed himself back to his feet, feeling slightly steadier, a disbelieving voice from behind him asked, “What was that?”

“My drinks,” he answered deliberately. “There must’ve been a delay with the-“

“No,” Momoshiro snapped, “I mean…what was…” He trailed off, flustered, and then blurted out, “You hate me!”

“Thinking isn’t something you’re very good at,” Akira muttered sullenly, “is it?”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about!” he snapped back. “You always act like a total jerk around me, you insult me, you freak whenever I show up, you totally lose it whenever I talk to An-chan, you’re always…ah…I…” His voice faltered as he realized what he was saying, and the color drained from him face. “…oh.”

Akira had a suspicion that he should be absolutely humiliated right now, but it was hard to when he was so busy feeling furious at how oblivious and stupid Momoshiro could be. “I don’t know how you can be such an idiot,” he spat. “And I don’t know why you’re acting so weird about this either. I tried to stop earlier and you wouldn’t let me!”

“You…that’s not the point!”

“Then what do you think it is, O Master of the Obvious?”

Momoshiro’s face had gone from bloodless to tomato in the space of a few seconds and he leaned forward towards Akira with his fists clenched again. The redhead met his angry gaze snarl for snarl.

When the other boy grabbed him by the shoulders and yanked him in for another kiss, Akira decided that they were going to have to lay down some ground rules. First of all, I always take the lead. He’d better get used to letting me be in control.

That was as far as he could get before he stopped thinking entirely.

It was far too soon when someone coughed and sent them jumping apart in a panic again. The Seigaku vice-captain was apparently choking behind his fist with an expression of supreme discomfort on his face, his partner seemed torn between horror and unholy glee, and An, holding another swimsuit identical to the one Momoshiro had in his spare hand, studying them with a gleam in her eyes that made Akira’s stomach drop.

She was never going to let him live this down.

“Kamio-kun,” An finally began sweetly, “we waited at the cashier for you. I wondered if you would please take me down to the beach tomorrow so I can try this out?”

Akira hoped the click when he swallowed wasn’t audible to anyone else. He had an unpleasant feeling it was. “Tachibana-“

“I already called and asked him. He said there won’t be any practice just yet, so it’s fine with him.”

“Oishi,” Kikumaru whispered loudly, “what’s wrong with you?”

The vice-captain looked mortified. “Um…well,” he managed tactfully, “some things are never meant to be seen.”

Akira moved across the floor to join An, pointedly not looking at anyone else. Especially not Momoshiro. “If you’re finished, we should go,” he told her in a voice that was remarkably steady, considering the circumstances. “If I have to listen to any more of this music, I’ll go crazy.”

An smiled back at their tennis rivals as the two of them started off. “See you guys soon!”

“God I hope not,” Akira muttered under his breath, and refused to meet An’s knowing gaze.

Oh yeah. She definitely wasn’t ever letting him live this down.

Cool off, Cyn!

solanum_d — Thu, 04 Sep 2008 19:02:14 GMT

Recipient: vacivity
Title: Old and New Games
Characters/Pairings: Yukimura/Sanada, some Yukimura/Yanagi, Rikkai Ensemble
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: PoT is not mine
Author’s Notes: post-apocalyptic AU, with the merest dusting of fantasy, and plenty of tennis. I hope it strikes your fancy, vacivity XD

Old and New Games

The forest seemed to be without end, but Yukimura knew that they would have to stop within a few days. Summer had arrived, and they needed food and rest.

He glanced back at his ragged band, at their ribs, all too visible, and the circles beneath their eyes. Sanada had grown to be taller and more muscular than the rest of them in the last few years, and he needed new clothing, or he would soon be completely naked. Renji, the oldest of the group, followed close behind, his face thin and impassive. On his shoulders sat Bunta, who was, despite his scrawniness, too large to be carried in such away. Not that they had a choice. If he were to walk, they would make even slower progress.

Next to them walked Jackal, and behind, the two boys next oldest in age, Niou and Yagyuu. All of them carried heavy packs, laden with their only precious possessions—a few blankets, knives, an axe, a metal bowl, and containers for water.

Sanada quickened his pace and fell into step beside Yukimura.

“Where’s Akaya?” he asked. “I didn’t see him go.”

“He wanted to scout,” Yukimura said, gazing vaguely ahead through the trees. “He’ll be back soon, I’m sure.”

Sanada nodded. Yukimura wondered if he was really as unconcerned about the youngest member of their group as he appeared. Sanada wasn’t the sort to let his emotions show, except in the strange, unguarded looks he had started giving Yukimura in the last few months.

“He may well find something—some shelter or water,” Yukimura said. Akaya’s eyes were one of their group’s greatest assets—he could see far beyond the normal range of human vision, and in the dark as well. It was one of the most useful eye-gifts he had even encountered, unlike Bunta’s unpredictable visions. And unlike Bunta’s blindness, Akaya’s eye-gift had no negative effects, as far as they could tell.

Of course, it was probably only that the price had not yet been discovered. Eye-gifts always had their price. Sometimes, as in Renji’s case, they were almost too much to bear.

He turned yet again, to meet Renji’s gaze. Although he was, at twenty, older than Yukimura by several years, Yukimura was the leader, and Renji never offered unprompted advice. Even so, Yukimura could hear his words, as clearly as if they had been spoken aloud.

“We’re stopping,” Yukimura said. “Rest.”

“Water?” Niou asked, licking dry lips.

“We don’t have much left,” Yukimura said. “But Akaya may find some. We’re not in the desert any more. So have a little.” Sanada passed around the waterskin, and the younger boys each had a mouthful. Renji lifted Bunta from his shoulders, and Jackal led him over to a tree to rest.

Yukimura noticed that Sanada and Renji took no water for themselves, and he also refused when Sanada offered him a drink.

“I’m fine,” he said, although his tongue felt heavy.

He lowered himself to the ground. He had planned to rest only for a moment, but soon his eyelids dropped and his head nodded.

“He’s asleep,” he heard Sanada say to Renji, as if through a heavy fog.

“He’s tired, too,” Renji said. “And sometimes…”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Suddenly the sound of light footsteps crunching upon dead branches yanked Yukimura from sleep.

“Yukimura! Renji!” Akaya shouted, his eyes flashing red in excitement. “I found a river! And a building!” He hopped from one food to another, tugging at Renji’s arm.

Yukimura rubbed his eyes.

“Calm down,” he said, putting a hand on Akaya’s shoulder. “Tell us what you’ve found.”

Slowly, and with careful prompting, they drew a report from Akaya of what he had seen.

Further up the trail, the woods dropped away into a deep valley, through which a river ran. And in the middle of the valley, Akaya with his eye-gift had seen some sort of building—the first man made dwelling they had encountered in years. Akaya had seen no signs that it was occupied.

“It’s warm enough that they would not need a fire,” Sanada pointed out. “There could be people. Especially if the building is as big as Akaya says it is.”

Yukimura bit his lip. It was true that risking an encounter with an unknown group was highly dangerous. The last time it had happened, they had been nearly killed in a scrap over a couple of rabbits they had snared. They had been lucky that the group they had stumbled across had been only three in number, and had only wanted to chase them away. There were bands out there that had gone entirely savage, and would not have balked at killing other humans for food, or at taking the boys by force.

On the other hand, their situation was becoming more and more dire. At the very least, they needed to get to the river and replenish their water supply.

“We’ll approach carefully,” Yukimura decided. “Yagyuu, Jackal, I’ll send you to scout when we get closer. We can’t afford to pass by good shelter and a source of water just because there might be danger.”

Niou’s face fell.

“Yukimura, send me,” he pleaded. “I’m older’n Jackal, an’ I move just as quiet as Yagyuu.”

“Jackal is smaller,” Yukimura said, keeping his expression stern. “He’ll fit in tight places. And I don’t need to send both you and Yagyuu.”

Every time he sent somebody out, away from the comparative safety of the group, he knew they might not return. If he was not there, he could not protect them.

Niou knew this. And, because he and Yagyuu were so close, almost like twins, Yukimura saw that he did not want to be left behind. But he had a feverish look to him, and Yukimura was not going to send out someone who would collapse where they could not reach him.

Niou nodded at Yukimura’s words, apparently too tired to argue more.

Yukimura turned to Bunta.

“Do you see anything?” he asked, more out of habit than for any other reason. Bunta closed his eyes. Yukimura had no idea why, but he always did this when trying to summon a vision, even though he was completely blind and had been for years. He was never wrong—foresight was his eye-gift—but there were many, many occasions on which he saw nothing at all. And at other times, he saw things so vague that his visions were as good as useless.

“I see a strange object,” he said. “It’s round, and it moves.”

Yukimura felt an icy chill grip his chest.

“A gun?” he asked. He had never seen such a thing, but Renji had told them stories.

“It’s yellow,” Bunta said, shrugging. Yukimura looked over at Renji, who shook his head. Not a gun. “I see rain, too,” Bunta added.

Yukimura sighed. “Thank you,” he said.

Bunta grinned, obviously proud of himself, and for once, Yukimura was glad that the boy couldn’t see Yukimura’s expression. He wasn’t sure that he could force cheer, or even hope onto his face.

He had to wonder sometimes. What was he keeping them alive for? What was the purpose in trying so hard to find food and water, to avoid danger? There were so few moments of happiness, and even those were always tainted with the prospect of future hardship.

But he sensed that they desired to live. Something inside them made them endure, and as long as that was what his strange little family wanted, he would lead them, even if he didn’t understand why they kept walking day after day, when it would be so much sweeter to lie down forever and sleep.

What could any of them hope for in life?

Sometimes it seemed that he also wished to live, but usually, in order to force himself to take the next step, the next breath, he made himself think of Renji’s grief if he were to die, or the horror on the face of Akaya, who had never lost a loved one before. And so, he got to his feet and motioned that they should continue.

***

Yagyuu and Jackal returned, and reported that the valley appeared to be deserted, and the building empty.

“It’s huge,” Jackal said, his eyes wide with awe. “Bigger than anything I’ve ever seen.”

Yukimura himself was amazed at the sight of the enormous construction—it was made of mostly concrete, and looked as though it might have dozens of rooms. Some parts of the roof had caved in, but most of it was intact.

“Did you go in?” he asked Jackal.

Jackal nodded. “I didn’t search the whole thing, though.”

“We’ll have to be careful,” Yukimura said. “It doesn’t seem occupied, but it’s big enough that there could be surprises. But for now, the sun is starting to set. Refill the waterskins and canteens over at the river, and come inside. We’ll explore the area tomorrow.”

They huddled in the room they had chosen as darkness fell. Instinctively, they formed a circle around Renji. Sanada placed himself next to Yukimura, and Akaya curled up on his other side. Niou and Yagyuu lay next to each other, Niou’s arm draped over Yagyuu’s shoulder.

“Tell a story, Renji,” Akaya pleaded.

Renji gave the thin-lipped half-grimace that served him as a smile. “What story would you like to hear?”

“Everything!” Akaya said. “How the cities fell, and our band formed. And how I was born,” he added.

“Akaya,” Yukimura scolded. “You shouldn’t make Renji tell that story tonight.”

“He always tells it when we reach a new place,” Sanada said. His eyes, intently focused on Yukimura’s, said: you just don’t want to hear it.

“It is good to remember,” Renji said, also looking at Yukimura. “Even pain.”

Renji, who could not forget, had to tell himself that, Yukimura thought.

Renji cleared his throat and began the story that was too familiar to all of them.

Once, not too long ago—when you were all children—we lived in a city. It was not as large as I am told cities once were, but there were hundreds of people who lived in it. Maybe a thousand. Many of them had enough to eat, and there were men and women who could make things that we needed, the clothing and tools.

I don’t know who my parents were. They didn’t give me a family name, such as some of you have. I might have been an orphan, or, more likely, just one too many mouths to fed. I grew up begging, and scrounging what food I could. From a very early age, I realized that I had an eye-gift. Whatever I saw, I never forgot. I even learned to read. I read a great many books, whatever I could find. My memory made me useful, and eventually a kind widow took me in, although she was already sheltering three children.

She had her own baby, a tiny red-haired thing. It was almost blind, and not very strong. She hoped that the blindness was because it would have an eye-gift, but she wasn’t sure. She never named it, hoping not to get attached, I think. Never told us her own name, actually. We just called her Ma. Anyway, we called the kid Bunta, once it was old enough to need a name. We had to call him something.

Then, there were the other two boys. They were just a couple years younger than me. Ma called them Sei and Gen, but one day she told me that they had real names—Yukimura Seiichi and Sanada Genichirou. They were from good families, she said. Their fathers were warriors—men who fought. She had been given payment to keep them. Their parents were dead now, because there was a lot of fighting in those days. But Ma kept them anyway. She wasn’t nice—she had a tongue like a whip, and a quick temper, and not a lot of sweetness in her, but she was kind. She kept us.

When I knew what Yukimura and Sanada’s names were, I called them that, always. A person’s family is important. Lots of people don’t have one.

Somehow, we scraped by for a few years. We lived in a house, not as big as the building we’re in now, but it had a few rooms. We managed to have enough to eat most days. I think Ma might have sold herself, but I’m not sure. There are some things that you can’t understand until you’re older.

Things got worse and worse in the city. People started to arrive from other places in swarms, like insects, and there was less food every day. There were dangerous men out there, with weapons, maybe even guns, and it wasn’t safe outside of the city. And cities were attacking each other, too.

Ma told us that once upon a time, there had been weapons so powerful that it could destroy that entire city in an instant. People had used them. Before that, life had been better for people, even better than in the cities now. But that had been a long time ago, before she had been born. Anyway, she said, people should have learned that fighting did no good. But they couldn’t help themselves. They got desperate, and greedy. That’s why Yukimura and Sanada’s fathers died, I think. Men from another city attacked, and then they went to go attack that city, and they died.

First, there was sickness one summer ten years ago. Ma was very ill. Maybe she would have died. A lot of people did die.

Then, the men came back to our city, except there were more of them. A lot more. They killed most of the adult men who hadn’t died in the sickness, and they took the women. They were rough with them. The city burned. I think they wanted to live there, so I’m not sure why they burned it. An accident, or just viciousness.

I’m not sure what would have happened to us if we had stayed. They didn’t have much use for boys. Yukimura was pretty enough that I was worried about that. But to strike out into the wilderness by ourselves, with Bunta (he was three, we couldn’t just leave him, he was family)…it seemed suicidal.

“We’re going,” Yukimura said. “I’d rather die free. And I know there are other cities out there. We’ll find one.”

And so we took as much as we could carry—a little food, but mostly tools, the same knives and things that we still have—and we found our way out of the city. It was then that we found Yagyuu and Niou. They were about five, and they were carrying big knives they had found. Their families were dead, and they joined us. It was just going to be a temporary thing, until we all found a new place to live. But here we are. And a few years later, we found Jackal…well, I’m getting ahead of myself. We were fleeing from the city.

We hardly noticed the infant when we found it a few miles outside of the city. It was about a year old, abandoned under a tree, and already growing weak. We glanced at it, and turned away. There had been so much death and so much suffering that one more death meant nothing at all to us.

But Yukimura picked it up.

“It has red eyes,” he said.

“Probably an eye-gift,” I told him.

“Akaya?” he said, quite softly.

“What?” I said, not understanding.

“We’ll call it Akaya,” he said. “For the eyes. Lucky eyes.”

It was then that I realized he meant we should keep it. I’ll admit that I argued with him at first—we all did. We already had one small child with us, and none of us were really old enough to walk for long distances. I was the oldest, and I was only ten. But none of us were about to argue with the look in Yukimura’s eyes.

Renji paused in his story, and they became aware of Akaya’s soft breathing, and the rise and fall of his scrawny chest. Renji smiled. “He’s asleep. The rest of you should do the same.”

Grumbling, they sprawled out across the floor, covering themselves with thin scraps of blanket and some dry grass they had collected that afternoon. Soon, they were all asleep.

Yukimura and Renji sat near the door in near silence.

“That isn’t the end of the story,” Yukimura said at last.

“Real stories never end. That was the beginning. Your beginning.”

“I’ve never understood,” Yukimura confessed with a laugh. “Why aren’t you the leader? You’re the oldest. You’re the wisest. Why did you listen to a little brat of a seven year old?”

“I’m not a leader,” Renji said. “I see, and remember, and sometimes I think I understand a little bit. But you always gave the impression that you saw further than what the eye could see.”

“I don’t have an eye-gift.”

“It’s not the same.”

Yukimura slumped forward, until his head rested in his hands. He was very tired. “Is it gone now, the thing you saw in me?”

“I don’t know,” Renji said. “Dim, perhaps, but not gone.”

“You should have chosen Sanada. He doesn’t ask questions, or doubt. He doesn’t wonder.”

“You think so?” Renji said. “Yukimura…” He paused. “You know, sometimes I turn around and expect to see you still seven, and I’m surprised that you’re a man already. It doesn’t seem so long ago to me…Seiichi.”

The sound of his own name, so unfamiliar, almost brought tears to Yukimura’s eyes. It had been so long since he had heard it. He couldn’t remember being called anything other than “Yukimura”. He couldn’t really remember Ma, or life in the city, or hope. It hadn’t been so long ago that he should have forgotten, but his old memories had been dulled by disuse. That might have been another lifetime. He only remembered walking, and hunger, and thirst, and the sense that each new day would bring only the same old perils.

“Renji,” he said. “Was it better in the city?”

Renji turned away. “Does it really matter?”

Yukimura closed his eyes to sleep. He hadn’t noticed he was crying until gentle fingers brushed the tears away from his lowered lids.

***
Sanada shook Yukimura awake the next morning. The sun was already high, and Yukimura wondered how he had slept so late.

“There’s a lot to be done,” he said, once everyone had gathered. “Niou, Yagyuu, you two are in charge of setting snares in the area.”

“How about hunting?” Niou asked, his eyes lively. Water and a night of sleep had restored his spirits considerably.

“Later,” Yukimura said. “Jackal, go with Akaya to look for any fruit that might be in season, or other edibles. Watch out for Niou’s snares.” The boys nodded. “Renji, if you could do your best to survey the area and commit as much to memory as possible. I’m sending you alone, so take one of the knives. Sanada and I will search this building for anything that could be of use to us.”

“Should I take the other knife?” Sanada asked.

Yukimura blinked. “You might as well,” he said, handing one to him. He was suddenly struck by how old Sanada looked—he understood what Renji had meant when he had said he was surprised to see that Yukimura was no longer a child.

He saw Sanada every day, but somehow, at this moment, his tall and muscular frame seemed to belong to a stranger. Where was the silent boy, and the gangly and awkward youth? They had vanished, and in their place was this man, whose eyes were unreadable.

Sanada slipped the strap that held the sheath over his bare shoulders, so that the knife dangled against his side. “Let’s go.”

Most of the rooms were empty, except for piles of broken-down furniture. The same furniture in every room—small tables, and chairs. The windows were gaping holes in the solid walls. Yukimura wondered what the place had been, all those years ago. He found it eerie.

“Let’s go back,” Sanada said, after they had been searching for a long time, and the sun was reaching its peak in the sky.

Yukimura looked up from where he had paused to lean against a wall.

“Oh,” he said, breathing out sharply. “All right.”

They walked back together, following the white stones Sanada had used to mark their trail. A stifling silence hung over them, thick and heavy. Each time that Yukimura felt that Sanada was about to speak, he would glance over and their eyes would meet. Something in Sanada’s eyes made Yukimura profoundly uncomfortable. It was almost like pity, but more stern. The sight of it made his stomach clench and his skin tingle.

At last, Sanada’s lips parted. Yukimura took a deep breath.

“Do you ever feel like we are the last people in the world?”

“What?” Yukimura said. He didn’t know what he had been expecting, but Sanada’s comment took him by surprise. “We aren’t the last people. We can’t be.”

Sanada leaned towards him, and Yukimura backed towards the wall until Sanada had him pinned. Yukimura’s heart began to pound. He didn’t understand why. It was only Sanada, and yet he was trembling.

“What would you do if we were?” Sanada said hoarsely.

“I don’t understand,” Yukimura said. Did Sanada share his doubts, his confusion? It didn’t sound like he did, but his words were so strange.

“What if there are no other cities out there, or if they are so far away we can never reach them? Would that be a world you were willing to live in? Because--”

Yukimura could feel Sanada’s breath against his cheek.

Sanada stepped backwards. He and Yukimura stared at each other, speechless.

“Yukimura! Sanada! Are you back there?” Akaya’s voice echoed down the hall. “Come see what we’ve found!”

Both of them turned away, thankful for the interruption.

***
Not too far from the main building, Akaya and Jackal had discovered an enormous rectangle of concrete, almost a hundred feet long and about half that wide. It was partially covered in grass that had sprouted through its numerous cracks, but a patter of painted white lines was still visible.

“What is it?” Niou asked, scuffing it with a bare foot.

“Perhaps the pattern of the lines stands for something,” Yagyuu suggested.

Niou rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right. Ow!” Yagyuu had kicked him in the shin.

Yukimura stared at it. It was such a simple thing, and yet they had no idea what it was. Just another sign of a life that no longer existed. He glanced over at Renji.

“Do you know what it is?” he asked.

Renji pursed his lips. “It looks familiar. Let me think.” He closed his eyes for a moment.

Akaya was also gazing at the thing as if transfixed. His eyes flashed.

“What is it?” he asked. “What is it?”

Renji took a deep breath.

“Tennis. A sport, a game,” he elaborated, seeing their blank faces. “I’ve never seen it played, but I saw it explained in a book once.” He sighed, obviously realizing that books and sports were as far from their understanding as tennis, and squatting down in the dirt, using the sharp edge of a stone to draw.

“ This cement thing is the court. There should be a net hung in the middle. You hit a ball back and forth. If the other person misses, you win.”

“Why?” Sanada asked.

Renji shrugged. “It’s a game. For fun.”

“Do you hit the ball with your hands?” Yagyuu asked, tilting his head to one side in thought.

Renji took his stone and sketched a circular shape with a long handle.

“You use these things, racquets, to hit it,” he said.

“But where are we going to get those?” Akaya mused, sticking out his lower lip. “And a ball? And we’ll need a net-thing, like you said.”

“We can make them,” Jackal said. He was grinning. “Bunta can make us some grass ropes for the net, and I’m sure Renji can figure out the rack—whatever they’re called.”

“We’ll need some good, sturdy wood for it,” Renji said. “And lots of gut. And hide, to make the ball. “His smile appeared much more genuinely pleased than usual.

Yukimura looked from glowing face to glowing face with increasing irritation.

“Wait,” he said. “You’re planning to use this thing?”

“Yeah!” Akaya said. “It’ll be fun. Right?”

Yagyuu, Niou, and Jackal nodded in agreement. Renji said nothing, but Yukimura could see the excitement in his eyes, and no wonder. For ten years, he had borne countless memories of a time that he knew was gone forever. Yukimura could not imagine how painful that must be. Now, he had the opportunity to make something from his memories real.

“There’s too much work to be done,” Yukimura said. His voice sounded thin and harsh to his own ears. “Food, supplies to be gathered before the summer is over. We can’t afford to take the time for this…game.” He turned to Sanada, expecting to find agreement in those stern eyes. But Sanada’s gaze was, once again, inscrutable.

“I don’t see any harm in it,” Sanada said coolly. “We’ll make sure everything gets done.”

Yukimura stepped away from them.

“Do what you like,” he said. “I’m just trying to make sure you don’t starve.”

***
Preparations for tennis seemed to fill the air, invisible and persistent as a swarm of mosquitoes. Yukimura saw the animals Niou set aside for their hide and gut, and the wood Jackal and Renji were fashioning into racquets. But no one so much as mentioned “tennis” to Yukimura, and all these things seemed to vanish whenever he came near them.

Very early one morning, after yet another sleepless night, Yukimura left the building where they slept for a walk outside. It was a slightly foolhardy thing to do, but the valley had proven itself to be safe enough.

And he didn’t really care if something happened to him.

When he reached the tennis court, he found that Renji was there, carefully pulling the grass and weeds from the cracks in the concrete. One of the younger boys might have flinched at Yukimura’s approach, or refused to meet his eyes. He was grateful that Renji showed no such signs of shame.

“Is it so important to you, to make this happen?” Yukimura asked. He stepped onto the court, the warm, dry surface feeling pleasant against his feet still soaked with dew.

Renji straightened, and tossed aside the weed he was holding.

“I suppose it is,” he said.

“It’s not going to bring back the city that burned ten years ago.”

Renji blinked at him.

“That’s not why I’m doing this, Yukimura.”

“Why, then?” he asked, his throat closing painfully.

“Can’t you see how happy it is making them?”

“It’s a distraction,” Yukimura said. “That’s not happiness.”

“Then what would be happiness? Being a child again? Finding another city?”

“I don’t know.” Yukimura almost laughed. “I can’t remember. But hitting a ball with a stick is not going to change anything.”

Renji put an arm over his shoulder, but Yukimura stiffened and pulled away.

“Don’t pity me. I can’t bear it.”

“I don’t,” Renji said. “You’ve kept us alive for this long, after all. And I understand how you feel about the tennis, even if the boys only see it as you grudging them a bit of fun.”

Yukimura squatted near the edge of the court and picked up the stone Renji had once used to draw pictures in the dirt.

“You tried to teach me and Sanada to read and write once, but it didn’t stick. We had no books, and there was no need for it.”

Renji smiled. “You said that there were no books in your future, and so there would be no need to learn. But I think perhaps you just hated the lessons.”

“Well, it was easy for you, with your eye-gift,” Yukimura said. “My brain wasn’t about to hold all those funny symbols.” He grew serious again. “Will you show me how to write my name?”

“Of course,” Renji said. “Which part? Yukimura or Seiichi?”

“Both,” Yukimura said. He stretched out his hand to offer Renji the rock, but Renji placed his own hand over it instead. His skin was warm to the touch.

“Like this,” Renji said, as he guided Yukimura’s hand through the smooth strokes. “And like this.”

Yukimura stared at his the marks engraved deep into the earth. A name—his parents, people he had never known, had given it to him. But without Renji, he would never have kept it. In all his life, Renji had been the one constant. Brother, guardian, advisor, friend. Always there, always watching.

“You won’t forget?” he said, clasping the older boy’s hand.

“I don’t forget anything, Seiichi.” The name was a reminder, a gift.

Yukimura pressed his hand against Renji’s heart.

“I mean here.”

“You know you are precious to all of us,” Renji said. “You needn’t fear that I will abandon you. If anything, you will leave me behind.”

“I—,” Yukimura began to protest.

“You will. In some way or another.”

Yukimura reached out and pulled Renji close, sharing his warmth in the early morning chill.

***
“It’s ready!” Akaya cheered, dancing around the room one afternoon with a ball of leather and hide in his hands. “Everything is ready!”

With only a furtive look in Yukimura’s direction, the boys sprang up and raced outside. The court had been cleared of weeds, and Bunta had twisted a grass-rope net for them. And Renji had finished making racquets the day before.

“Are you coming?” Sanada asked, as he rose to his feet.

“I’ll watch,” Yukimura said. “They’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.” In truth, he was afraid that if he ignored them, he would only be further alienated from his band. He couldn’t continue to radiate displeasure when they mentioned tennis—it seemed to have some hold over them greater than his own. And he did not want there to be a day when they refused to listen to his directions in some dangerous situation, and came to harm, all because he had allowed tennis to tear them away from him.

It was amusing to watch them, at first. Their swings with the wooden racquets were wild, and far wide of the ball. But gradually, they discovered how best to hold the racquets, and their control improved. Before long, they were hitting the ball back and forth with some dexterity.

Even Bunta managed to join in. He seemed to be able to use his keen hearing, and to some degree, his eye-gift, in order to predict where the ball would go. He wasn’t as adept as the other boys, but he did well. And his smile was so wide, without even a hint of self-mockery.

Yukimura was not surprised to see that Sanada was by far the most skilled. He seemed to hold the racquet naturally, as if he had held one every day of his life. And his muscular body allowed him to move more quickly and strike the ball more powerfully than the younger boys.

Akaya, with his enthusiasm and enhanced vision, was the next best, and the two of them were soon engaged in a duel, neither willing to concede the victory. Sweat streamed down their faces and bare chests, and gleamed under the hot afternoon sun.

Yukimura was surprised at how serious they were. It was only a game. Akaya’s intensity, he supposed, might be expected—he was only eleven, after all, and it was natural for him to be swept away by his excitement. But Sanada’s fierce expression was a little bit frightening. A competition with a child couldn’t mean so much to him. What was he really thinking? The memory of their first day in the valley when they had explored the building together rose to Yukimura’s mind. Sanada had been so strange, and yet the image of his face at that moment had never been far from his thoughts.

Suddenly, Sanada made an especially powerful return, sending Akaya’s racquet flying from his hand, and the ball spinning far beyond the court.

“Are you all right?” Renji called to Akaya, who stood there, unmoving.

He did not answer. Yukimura saw that he was trembling.

Yukimura took a step towards him, onto the court. Akaya wheeled around to face him. His eyes were a brighter red than Yukimura had ever seen them. He snarled wordlessly, and lunged forward.

Instinctively, Yukimura shoved him away, but in a moment he was back again, growling, his teeth bared. By that time Sanada, Renji, and Niou had arrived by their side. Together, they wrestled the struggling boy to the ground.

“Akaya!” Yukimura said, shaking him by the shoulders. “What’s wrong? Akaya!” But Akaya seemed entirely out of his senses.

Sanada struck across the face. His head slumped back, his eyes glassy, but still unnaturally bright. After a moment, his eyes closed, and his breathing became normal.

“I’ll carry him inside,” Niou said, hoisting him over his shoulders.

“What just happened?” Yukimura asked, his heat still pounding. “Is he insane?”

Renji sighed, and rubbed his forehead.

“Hopefully he’ll be back to normal when he wakes. It might be his eye-gift. There’s been no sign of a side-effect so far, but I always wondered if there might be one.”

“That he goes berserk?” Sanada asked. He was still panting slightly from the exertions of the game, but his expression had grown grim.

“It’s entirely possible.”

Yukimura frowned.

“We’ll have to hope it doesn’t happen again.”

He had known that no good would come from tennis. Now, even Akaya’s lucky eyes had failed him.

***

The day was overcast, and so stiflingly hot that none of the band could bear to think about tennis, or anything other than lying indoors on the floor and trying not to overheat. The weather added to the kind of quiet despair Yukimura had felt ever since the day Akaya had gone mad. That had been several weeks ago, and it had only happened once more, again while Akaya was playing tennis. Yukimura had refused to let him so much as touch a racquet after that, the result of which had been that Akaya had stopped speaking to him.

He was so tired, and the heat only added to his weariness.

“It’s going to rain today,” Bunta murmured. “A lot.”

“Hey, I don’t need an eye-gift to tell that much,” Niou said. “If you could see the damn clouds out there, you’d know it was going to rain.”

“Well, I can’t,” Bunta snapped.

“Oh, be quiet,” Yagyuu said. “All the hot air you two are producing isn’t doing anything for the temperature in here.”

“Is it safe here?” Sanada asked. He lay on his back, with his head extending through the doorway so he could watch the clouds gathering over the mountain. “We’re very close to the river. It may flood.”

“It might,” Renji said. “There are caves in the hills on the other side of the valley. Perhaps we should head for those in order to wait out the storm.” Both of them turned to Yukimura.

“What?” he said, shaking his head to rouse himself from his thoughts. “Oh. Yes, we might want to move. I’ve been thinking that maybe we should move on from here, anyway…”

“Move on?” Jackal said. “I thought we were going to stay here!”

Yukimura stared at him.

“Stay here? No one’s said anything about that,” he said.

“We have,” Niou said. “It’s a good place. It’s not dangerous. There’s food. And the tennis court,” he added. “And this big building. It’s like our own city. We like it here.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Yukimura snapped.

A clap of thunder echoed through the valley, as if to punctuate his words.

“Let’s go,” Yukimura said. “Gather up our things. We don’t want to be caught in a flood.”

“No.”

Akaya had risen to his feet. He looked Yukimura straight in the eye.

“We’re staying here. You just want to boss us around. You’re used to doing what you want, not what we want. Well, we’re tired of walking and walking, and looking for stupid cities! Who cares about that?”

Renji raised a hand to calm him, but Yukimura shook his head. He understood.
As he looked around at their determined faces, he felt more puzzled than disturbed. They really wanted to stay here. And for some reason, they did not need him any longer. He knew how to keep them safe, how to keep them alive, but that wasn’t enough now for these strangers, who had been his family for ten years. The only thing that bound him to the world

He stepped by Sanada, who had watched the entire exchange without betraying any emotion, and out into the heat of the day. A few raindrops brushed against his cheeks, the tears he didn’t feel the need to shed.

On his way towards the hills at the other end of the valley, he passed the tennis court, and the spot where he and Renji had engraved his name into the dirt. He almost stopped to rub it out, but decided to let it stand. The rain would probably wash it out before long. Such was the nature of memory.

Renji had promised not to forget him, though, and that was a promise he could trust.

As he walked, the rain began to fall harder. He wondered if he should take shelter. He had always thought that he might one day walk away from his band and die, but he had not expected it to be in the rain.

He started to climb the hill. Footsteps behind him.

“Yukimura.”

It was Sanada.

“What are you doing here?” Yukimura asked. It had been less than an hour since he had left the building, but he felt as if he was looking at a ghost.

“The caves are close to here,” Sanada said. “I’ll show you.” He took Yukimura by the wrist. Yukimura almost resisted, but allowed himself to be led to shelter. It wasn’t a very large cave, but both of them fit into it comfortably.

They ducked inside, out of the downpour. Already, the unbearable heat was gone, and they were shivering and soaking wet.

Sanada shook his head vigorously, sending water flying in all directions. Then, he sat down, and leaned against the back wall of the cave.

“Are you determined to leave?” he asked at last.

Yukimura said nothing. The sight of Sanada did not make him want to leave.

“I thought this might be my last chance to see you,” Sanada continued. “But I can’t imagine not seeing you, not really. Even though I expected it would come to this.”

“You expected me to leave?” Yukimura said.

“Since the beginning of the summer, it has seemed like you were already dead. It hasn’t been easy for us. Why are you so unhappy?”

“Unhappy?” Yukimura felt mad laughter bubbling in his throat. “I’m not in the least bit unhappy. I don’t know what happiness is anymore. A day in which we stay alive, so that we can try to stay alive tomorrow? Or is it tennis? Why should tennis bring happiness? Renji has never been able to tell me what it means to be happy!”

Sanada’s face was hidden in shadow.

“A moment you have wished for. A moment that you wish to last forever.” He leaned forward, so that their faces were almost touching. Then, ever so slowly, he lowered his lips to meet Yukimura’s.

Yukimura was too stunned to move, and yet a part of him had been expecting this, perhaps for years.

“I didn’t realize you desired me,” he said. “Maybe I should have. It isn’t as if there are very many of us, and–”

Sanada’s hand grasped his shoulder. Something in the intensity of the firm grip made Yukimura’s skin tingle.

“It’s not about desire.” Sanada’s voice was harsh. “Or desperation. Even if the city had never fallen, even if we were never alone in the world, I would want to hold you.” He pulled Yukimura forward into his arms. “We don’t need gifts, or curses, or fate. There is still happiness.”

“Fine,” Yukimura said, his breathing already coming quickly. “You are Sanada Genichirou. I am Yukimura Seiichi.” He pressed a kiss against the side of Sanada’s mouth. “We’ll choose this.”

Lightning flashed, and thunder boomed over the valley, but they hardly heard it over their pounding hearts. Torrents of rain shielded the cave from the world, and it was as if they were truly the last people on earth.

***

The sun was shining.

“Told you so!” Akaya shouted, sticking his head into the cave. “Found them.”

Yukimura rolled over and opened his eyes. Next to him, Sanada was still fast asleep. Yukimura gave him a nudge with his foot, and he groaned.

“You tracked us down?” Yukimura asked, putting a hand to his aching back—he was sore all over.

“It only flooded a little,” Akaya said, looking as pleased as if he had personally held off the water. “Are you going to come back?”

“I don’t know,” Yukimura said.

“I told him you might not,” Renji said, appearing behind Akaya’s shoulder. Yukimura ducked out of the cave, and lifted a hand to brush Renji’s cheek.

“You came to find me,” he said, half-amused. “Even though you didn’t think I would come back.”

“There’s knowing something here,” Renji said, touching his forehead. “And here.” He pointed to his heart. “I hoped you would come back. You look better,” he added.

Yukimura laughed.

“Do I?”

They walked back in silence. Akaya raced ahead to join the other boys back at the building.

The rain had washed away his name from the ground, but he didn’t mind. All things ended—cities and lives of men.

But death was only another kind of change. Nothing stayed the same forever. Even if they were the last people in the world, they still changed.

He had until the end of the summer to decide whether to remain in the valley. Before then, there were still so many things to do, and so many games to play.

Sanada’s eyes met his. The look in them had softened, and it didn’t frighten him any longer, or seem so strange. There was gentleness in them, or maybe it had been there all along.

Sanada leaned over to place his mouth next to Yukimura’s ear.

“Do you want to go play tennis?” he asked.

Cool off, Claire!

senshixdoukeshi — Wed, 03 Sep 2008 19:25:42 GMT

Recipient: decollement
Title: Serendipity
Pairing/Characters: Dirty Pair (Oshitari/Gakuto) -- Hyotei ensemble appear prominently in the story, though
Beta: Koori and hakkai_sensei
Disclaimer: I own them... but only in my dreams. In reality, the boys belong to each other and to Konomi-sensei. Was not made rich by this, so don't sue!
Rating: T (PG-13) mostly for swearing...

Note: (1) In Japan, liking sweets is often deemed a very unmanly trait. Most yaoi novels even make use of this fact to give their characters a clear and definitive “uke indicator”.
(2) Movie: Wimbledon (2004) starring Kirsten Dunst and Bettany Paul. A romantic comedy about a washed-up old pro and an up-and-coming tennis star during the Wimbledon championships.
(3) Please refer to this link (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dance_Dance_Revolution_SuperNova#Songs) for more info.

Serendipity

If anything, I’d say it was an accident. I certainly didn’t mean for it to turn out this way, but it did. I’m not complaining; I’m actually glad that things turned out the way they did, but I’ll be damned if I were to admit that I didn’t know exactly what the heck was going on until it was staring me in the face…

Wait… I think I just lost you, didn’t I? Well then, let me try to explain. I’ll backtrack a little and let you see that it was all Yuushi’s fault… It’s always Yuushi’s fault.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It had been a very typical tennis club afternoon with most of the first years generally running around, the juniors and seniors paired up and intent on practicing to eventually wrestle a spot from a regular (as if!), Yuushi overseeing the swinging practice of some of the more promising freshmen, Hiyoshi and Taki on a practice match against Ohtori and Shishido, Atobe sitting as prettily as you please in a shaded corner with Kabaji waiting on him, Jirou sleeping through practically everything, and myself flitting about, causing mild mayhem and coordinated chaos here and there. Yup, all was right in the Hyotei Gakuen tennis club.

All was right until we came to the end of afternoon practices. And then it began…

Ohtori came up to me with that sunny smile firmly plastered on his face. He was absent-mindedly rubbing the sweat off him with a towel as he made innocent small talk. At least it was innocent to him.

“Ne, Mukahi-senpai, will you be walking home with Oshitari-senpai again today?”

I tried unsuccessfully to bite back the grimace that came to my face when I heard some of the muted snickering that went on around me, but I didn’t say anything to Ohtori’s question.

That was a bad move, as he seemed to have taken my silence as an invitation to continue on with his idea of friendly chatter. “Will you guys be dropping by that place that sells those wonderful crêpes? I’ve always wanted to try their crêpes! Are they any good, senpai?”

The attempts at tamping down the snickering were a whole lot less successful this time around and I could’ve sworn I heard a snort mixed in there somewhere.

I’ve never had the best control on my temper and I must shamefully admit that that particular afternoon had been no different. Without thought, I waspishly snapped, “How the hell should I know?!” at Ohtori.

That was a very bad move.

Ohtori looked taken aback and he clamped his mouth shut, his eyes growing as wide as they would go and I can almost see him mentally grasping for the proper words to apologize for whatever it was he said that set me off. One of the most tedious things about Ohtori apologizing is trying to get him to stop—if he had his way, he’d be bowing in apology to me until the following week. And the other tedious thing about that would be…

“Hey! Stop taking out your PMS-induced bitching on Choutaro, mop-top!” Shishido practically hissed at me as he fell into place beside his doubles partner.

I rolled my eyes and bit back the scathing retort that was burning the tip of my tongue to the slight against my hair. For all that I blow my fuse over every little thing, when it comes to Ohtori, Shishido was worse than I could ever hope to be.

I held onto my silence as Shishido continued his ranting in defense of his precious kouhai, “The only reason he thought to ask you was because he saw you and Oshitari on a date in there last Friday.”

My brow furrowed as I thought back to the day in question and things clicked into place. “That was not a date, you friggin’ moron!”

“Sure,” Shishido scoffed at me.

“Yuushi and I aren’t like that! Just because YOU are dating your doubles partner doesn’t mean I’m dating mine,” I sneered at Shishido. I got a whole lot of satisfaction when the older half of the Silver Pair got that slightly panicked look as he furtively glanced around to make sure that no one outside of the tennis club members heard my declaration about his and Ohtori’s dating status.

“That Psychology elective Yuushi is taking this term is messing with his brain—and mine too.” I continued with my explanation, “He was going on and on about this supposed complex I’m developing because of some supposed ‘masculinity issues’ I’m dealing with. He says I react too much to things that I deem may lower my sense of masculinity. And I told him that was a load of bull. So he dared me to go into that crêpe shop and order the sweetest thing they had on the menu1. That’s all there was to it!”

“So you still went ahead and bought a crêpe from that shop.” Shishido pointed out with a brow raised at me, “Then why didn’t you just answer Choutaro’s question about how good the crêpe was?”

The conversation was getting ridiculously mind-numbing and I can’t believe it revolved around some stupid crêpes! Damned Yuushi and his Psychology class! “How the hell should I know? I’ve never had a sweet tooth, and eating something as insanely sweet as that crêpe I was forced to order would have given me a headache, so I gave the stupid thing to Yuushi and watched as I forced him to eat it!”

“Aaaawww~! Feeding each other crêpes now, are we?” Atobe drawled out mockingly as he strutted past us on his way into the club room. “How very sweet. Sickeningly cliché, but still sweet.”

It was at that point that I lost it and started shrieking out expletives at Atobe’s back at a pitch that would have done credit to the banshee that Shishido swears is in my ancestry.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“That was very well done of you,” Yuushi’s deep, even baritone reached my ears as he fell into step beside me. After the spectacle I made of myself during that afternoon’s after-practice, all I wanted was to go home and I seriously did not want to deal with Yuushi right then. I continued my silent sulking and pretended to ignore him.

But I forget that Yuushi has always been immune to my sulking and my ignoring. A hand clapped against my shoulder and pulled me towards my doubles partner in a loose kind of half-hug. “I think you handled that quite well,” he drawled out in that accent of his that sometimes keep me guessing if he’s being sarcastic or not.

I made a face at myself when I remembered the sardonic laughter I got from Atobe after I hurled out aspersions on the legitimacy of the circumstances of his birth as well as that of his mother’s.

“That was all your fault, you know.”

“Of course, it is,” Yuushi immediately agreed in amused resignation. He’s way too used to these blamestorming sessions.

“You and that Psychology class of yours!”

“Mmm-hmm,” he hummed in agreement.

“And while we’re talking,” here, Yuushi’s brow rose at my use of the word ‘talking’, “why do you never say anything when those annoying pricks start in on the Oshitari-and-Gakuto-are-together thing?!”

“What is there to say? I can declare all the denials I can think of until my face turns the same color as my hair, and they’ll still say whatever they feel like saying anyway,” Yuushi countered.

Geh! He had a point. I hate it when Yuushi comes up with a valid argument! “But still,” I plowed on—I always had to have the last word, for all the good that does me with Yuushi, “you’re my best friend! My doubles partner! You’re supposed to have my back!”

I really should have gotten a clue from the almost feral smile Yuushi gave me when I said that.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Thinking too much about stuff is not something that I do. I don’t like looking at myself, trying to find things that are wrong. I usually prefer to look at others and pick apart their imperfections rather than look inward and focus on my own. But I couldn’t deny that what happened earlier this afternoon had gotten to me. It’s not so much that argument about the stupid crêpe that got to me; it wasn’t even about Atobe and his teeth-gnashingly annoying condescension, because he’s always been a condescending bastard. No, it was the persistent teasing that Yuushi and I got all the time that was scraping my nerves raw.

Why do people keep hinting that Yuushi and I are more than just friends?

Edgily, I bounced over to my dresser mirror and examined my face. I regarded my child-like dark blue eyes fringed with short, thick lashes, and narrowed my eyes into slits; I was hoping that doing so would make them look a bit less child-like—I gave it up when I realized that doing so only made me look more like a sulky kid than anything else. Next, I surveyed my lips and made a moue of distaste; they were a disgustingly pretty shade of pink and were delicately shaped—the kind of lips that girls my age would probably kill to have. My pert nose and winged eyebrows weren’t spared from my self-disparaging inspection. Moodily, I tugged at a lock of hair by the side of my face, ‘Hmmm… Maybe I should get a haircut…?’

The problem, the way I saw it, was that I looked way too girly! Maybe if I lost the angular bob and chugged down gallons of milk like there was no tomorrow in order to gain a few more inches, I’d probably get those annoying jerks off my case about Yuushi.

… Or maybe I won’t.

The frustration was getting to me, so I picked up the phone and called up my favorite stress reliever. He picked up on the second ring.

“Mukahi-senpai? It’s almost 11 o’clo—”

“I know, Hiyoshi,” I said, rudely cutting him off. He’s used to this from me so he kept quiet and waited for what I wanted to say so badly that it couldn’t wait until the following day. “I just heard something that I thought you might want to know.”

“Huh? Uh… What is it?” Hiyoshi asked hesitantly. He has good reason to be wary of me, after all.

“I heard that Taki has a thing for you, and that he’s planning to confess to you before school lets out for the summer.”

Of course, it wasn’t true… or at least, I thought it wasn’t. But the spluttering and the flustered squawking I heard on the other end of the line made me feel so much better. I let out a wicked cackle before I killed the connection.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“So that’s settled then?” Atobe had no problems making himself heard above the lunch crowd din. “Today is Friday, the last day of school before summer break starts. There will be no club meeting this afternoon, but I will be expecting you guys on Monday next week. I’ll meet all of you in front of the school gate at 7:00AM where a shuttle bus will take us to my family’s beach resort. Remember, this is for training.”

Murmurs of acceptance and understanding went around the table.

“What’s that you’re reading there, Hiyoshi?”

At the sudden question I directed at him, Hiyoshi looked up at me in mild alarm. I was amused to note that his eyes held equal parts of animosity and suspicion when he looked at me, and that in the long lunch table that we occupied, he was sitting in the seat that was as far away from Taki as possible.

In answer to my question though, he held up the book he was reading and let me read the title: Basic English Grammar Rules – Standard Reviewer Edition.

“Oh, is that for your exam today, Hiyoshi-kun?” Ohtori asked.

“Hn,” Hiyoshi grunted in the affirmative. “My last exam is on English and I’m not doing very well in it.”

“Gakuto’s excellent in English,” Yuushi piped in from across the table, “maybe you could ask him to help you out with some of the things you don’t understand.”

Hiyoshi didn’t say anything, but his face clearly said that he’d rather immerse himself in a tub full of poisonous snakes than ask for my help in anything.

Shishido laughed at Hiyoshi’s expression and attempted to impress us with his English skills when he said, “I DON’T THINK GAKUTO ISN’T GOOD WITH ENGLISH.”

While the English words flew over most of the others’ heads, Atobe and Yuushi started snickering. “Baka!” I said mockingly. “Was that supposed to be an insult? Haven’t you ever heard of the rule on double negatives?”

Shishido’s brow furrowed in thought as he went over his sentence in his head, even as Hiyoshi’s fingers were flying through his book trying to find the explanation to Shishido’s error.

I tried to tamp down the smug smile that was fighting to find itself on my face. Far too often, people take me for an airhead incapable of retaining anything academic. I’ve just been given the chance to show them, Shishido especially, that I was not an idiot.

Smugly, I recited, “In English, a double negative forms a positive. In some languages, though, like Russian, a double negative is still negative. But there is no language in the world where two positives can form a negative.”

There was dead silence.

And then, from under his breath, Yuushi muttered, “YEAH, RIGHT.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The four-hour trip to Atobe’s beach resort had been fairly boring, but that changed as soon as we arrived at our destination. From the beginning, Atobe made sure to pack in as many activities as he could cram into a single day without outright killing us.

And after the sheer torture that the day had been for us, it was wonderful to just sit down and watch the setting sun and enjoy the soothing sound of the rolling waves. The private beach that was part of the Atobe family’s property was nothing short of spectacular! Of course, you wouldn’t expect anything less from Atobe. The beach house itself had no less than fifteen rooms.

I’ve been looking forward to the bonfire at the beach since that morning. And after a full day of hiking and swimming and biking (all under the guise of training), relaxing by a fire was a godsend. I sat down beside Yuushi on an old beached log.

It wasn’t long before they started in on us again…Shishido smirking at us in such a smug, knowing way, and suggesting some “couple activities” that Yuushi and I might wanna do while we were at the beach. Atobe threw in a comment here and there, either adding to some of Shishido’s suggestions or vetoing them with a disdainful sniff. Ohtori wisely didn’t say anything but the slight blush staining his cheeks (that had nothing to do with the warmth of the fire) and the twinkle in his eyes gave away his thoughts. Jirou managed to turn a situation from bad to worse when he sleepily asked Atobe, “Are Gakuto and Oshitari getting married after high school?” in a whisper loud enough to be heard clear across the beach.

I so wanted to say a lot of things but the boneless lethargy that was over me made the effort of snapping back at them seem too much. Yuushi was right; no matter what I said to deny it, they’d still say whatever the hell they wanted to say anyway.

Coming to the conclusion that not saying anything at all would be best for my sanity, I tried hard to shut out the annoying buzzing that their conversation made and limply leaned against Yuushi’s side, my head resting on his shoulder. One of his arms went around my shoulders to share his blanket with me, and at the warmth and comfort, my eyes drifted shut of their own volition and a small, contented sigh escaped my lips.

… And then I noticed the unnatural silence.

I cracked an eye open to see what had happened; Ohtori was looking everywhere but at me and Yuushi; Hiyoshi was engaged in the serious study of a twig in his hands, a light blush on his cheeks; Taki was doodling random stuff on the sand before him; Kabaji was as deadpan as ever while he supported Jirou’s weight as the latter was starting to doze; Shishido looked like a beached fish, his mouth opening and closing without saying anything; and Atobe, for once, seemed blessedly at a loss for words.

I looked up at Yuushi in question, but he just shrugged and shook his head at me. I looked back at our tormentors in time to see Ohtori pulling on Shishido’s arm. The former quietly cleared his throat and announced to the group that he and Shishido were retiring for the night. Hiyoshi lost no time in following suit and making himself scarce. In a matter of seconds, everyone had found one reason or another to leave Yuushi and me alone.

Once again, I looked up at Yuushi, this time in astonishment. But it didn’t take long before I felt the beatific smile blooming on my face. I had just found a way to get people off my back about Yuushi.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

“You want me to do what?” Yuushi asked once again.

“I want you to pretend to like me.”

He arched a brow at me, “But I do like you.”

He was completely missing the point, the idiot! I shook my head at him in exasperation. “Whatever! Listen, Yuushi, tomorrow, I want you to just play along with me, alright? Since it seems that all it takes to shut those guys up is to prove to them that they’re right about us, then I’ll let them believe that they’re right about us all they want!”

The look on Yuushi’s face was skeptical at best. “So we’re going to pretend to be a couple…?” it sounded more like an open-ended statement than an actual question.

I nodded enthusiastically in confirmation. I can imagine that the grin on my face might have looked maniacal.

Finally, Yuushi’s face took up its customary smirk-smile, and my own grin lost a little of its own brilliance. Having that particular smile of Yuushi’s directed at you can never be a good thing. He confirmed it yet again when he asked, “Does that mean you’re going to be all over me and I get to take advantage of the situation?”

The satisfying thunk of my hand connecting to the back of Yuushi’s skull upped the wattage of my grin once again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For the next two days, I enjoyed the wide array of reactions I kept getting from the rest of the regulars (plus Taki, who only seems to have been ‘kicked out’ of the regulars in theory but not in practice). The very next morning, after the bonfire, we all sat down to eat breakfast together in the sunny morning room. Yuushi and I were the last ones to arrive because he had to drag my sorry, reluctant-riser ass outta bed.

When Yuushi and I walked into the room, the conversations that were going on seemed to have died instant deaths. They took one look at my pouty, disheveled appearance and Yuushi’s self-satisfied smirk and drew their own conclusions. The conversations picked up again, louder than before, in an effort to make everything seem normal. My irritation at being woken up instantly got blown away.

Cackling like a loon on the inside, I grabbed Yuushi’s hand and pulled him towards the two remaining seats on the other side of the breakfast table. At the sight of our connected hands, the conversations stuttered for a bit and then gained even more volume. The smile on Ohtori’s face as he tried to engage both Shishido and Hiyoshi in conversation was looking strained and he was talking at an unnatural speed. I saw Shishido sneaking suspicious glances at me and Yuushi all through breakfast, but he didn’t say anything. Perfect! That was when I knew I’d hit on the perfect plan.

The following day, I saw Atobe raising an elegantly imperious eyebrow at Ohtori, as if silently asking the sophomore an expectant “Well…?”, and Shishido was making small shooing gestures with his hands at his boyfriend. From where I was standing, unseen and unnoticed by the others, I watched Ohtori hesitantly make his way towards Yuushi.

“Anou… Oshitari-senpai, we…” Ohtori looked back uncertainly at the small cluster that Atobe and Shishido and Taki made at the other end of the room, “… er, we were wondering about you and—”

“Good morning, Ohtori!” I cut in smoothly, coming in seemingly out of nowhere, effectively heading off the question that would surely ask Yuushi for confirmation if he and I were really together.

Yuushi had been playing along with me and accommodating my whims with an indulgent smile, but he hadn’t said anything one way or the other on how he felt about this charade. I was afraid that if asked directly, he would admit that this was just another one of my crazy stunts to mess with their minds. I had to keep Yuushi from spilling the beans as this plan was accomplishing what all other previous schemes had failed to do: shutting up the regulars about my supposed passionate affair with my best friend.

Once I was standing next to him, Yuushi lightly put a hand to the small of my back and he smiled down at me with a look that clearly said, ‘I know why you did that but I’m not telling you how I would have answered Ohtori if you hadn’t cut him off.’ But Yuushi being Yuushi, of course, wasn’t able to resist teasing me… or Ohtori, for that matter. “You were about to ask, Ohtori-kun…?”

Ohtori blushed deeply and started fidgeting with his jacket zipper. “Oh… er, I was just wondering about Oshitari-senpai and… uh, anou… um, about Oshitari-senpai and… and the movie he’s chosen for tonight’s film viewing.”

Barely muted expletives and curses burst out from Atobe and Shishido and Taki.

Yuushi chuckled and answered breezily that, of course, he had chosen a romantic comedy.

I furrowed my brow in disapproval, both of Yuushi’s taste in movies and of his teasing. “You suck!” I declared as I barely pulled the punch I aimed at his shoulder. “Sometimes even I wonder why you’re my best friend!”

At my words, Ohtori’s flustered expression was replaced by a frustrated and confused one. Friend? Once again, he looked back at the Atobe cluster at the other end of the room for clarification, but they all seemed just as frustrated and confused as Ohtori was.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The room was dark and the only illumination came from the 52” plasma TV on one side of the room. On the screen, Kirsten Dunst and Paul Bettany were engaged in a heated argument about something I wasn’t quite sure of. Personally, I only paid attention to the screen whenever the tennis match scenes were on2.

Nestled snugly beside Yuushi, I leaned up to whisper in his ear, “I swear, you pick the sappiest chick flicks you can find just to annoy me!”

He gave a low chuckle that sent delicious shivers down my spine. That took me by surprise—that was not the reaction I usually got when Yuushi chuckled like that. But over the last couple of days, things had been changing. I kept noticing little things about Yuushi that I had never really paid attention to before. I wasn’t entirely sure I liked where my little observations and reactions were taking me. This was a ploy to get people off my back about Yuushi, damn it! I shouldn’t be getting caught up in it!

“Are you feeling cold?” Yuushi asked me softly.

I shook my head to answer in the negative. “Why do you ask?”

Yuushi gave a small shrug. “I thought I felt you shiver.”

I was thankful for the dark that hid the burning I felt on my cheeks. “Nah, it was just the overwhelming sap in this movie.”

I could hear the restless rustling and fidgeting from the others in the room. Just like me, the only reasons they were tolerating this movie was (1) because Yuushi chose it and they didn’t want to hurt his feelings by expressing outright distaste for his movie pick (besides, when Atobe put Yuushi in charge of movie night, everyone more or less expected that the movie would be something like this) and (2) because the Wimbledon scenes made it bearable.

Desperately trying to stave off the boredom, I tugged at Yuushi’s shirt. “Ne, are the others looking at us?”

He gave me that low chuckle again. “Can’t you feel their eyes practically boring holes into our sides? I swear they’ve been watching us more than they have the movie.”

I snickered at the thought of them trying to see what Yuushi and I were up to in the dark. I’m pretty sure that the back and forth whispering we were doing looked absolutely suspicious to them.

“Want to do something to freak them out?” Yuushi whispered conspiratorially to me.

I just looked at him in question.

His smile looked positively wicked as he tilted my chin up with a finger and leaned in close to me. My eyes shot wide open, my breath got stuck in my throat, and my mouth dried up so damned fast that I thought my tongue had just glued itself permanently to the roof of my mouth. But instead of the kiss that I thought was coming, he tilted my head at a certain angle and the corner of his mouth touched the corner of mine.

“Relax,” he whispered to me, his voice a damned silken thing, “we’re only pretending, remember?” And with that, he pulled back and let my head rest against his shoulder.

We both silently laughed when we heard Atobe’s hissed, “Damn it, Shishido! I told you to move your head! I didn’t get to see!”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Tiny beads of perspiration were starting to roll down Yuushi’s back and his breath was beginning to come out in little pants. Despite the unkempt look that he was currently sporting because of the hair plastered to his face by sweat, I still thought Yuushi was the most gorgeous-looking creature I had ever seen in my life. The rhythmic sway of his hips had me hypnotized. But I snapped out of my daze in a hurry when I heard Shishido snickering beside me.

“Tongue back in your mouth, Gakuto~,” he said in an annoyingly sing-song voice.

Sitting in an overstuffed chair to my right, I heard Hiyoshi muttering things under his breath about “shouldn’t be ogling his boyfriend in public” and “could see that all the time when they’re alone, anyway”.

I was saved from having to lash out at Shishido and the stupid mushroom by the song ending and Yuushi walking over to me. For the last day of our “training camp”, Atobe regally declared that we were to have a DDR tournament. Honestly! The things that went on in Atobe’s head…

I threw a small towel at Yuushi with a scowl. “You seriously need more stamina training if five songs in a row on DDR could wind you like that.”

He looked a bit puzzled by the slight venom in my tone but he only shrugged it off and mildly defended himself with, “Five songs in a row on Maniac level.”

“Whatever!”

“Yo, mop-top, if you think you could do better, why don’t you give it a go?” Shishido jeered at me.

“You’re on!” I accepted the challenge.

“But we get to pick the song,” Shishido stipulated. I lost a teensy bit of my confidence at that, but I nodded my acceptance, anyway.

I was standing at the ready on the dance pad when I saw the song that Shishido picked for me. “Fascination –eternal love mix-3?” I shrieked out at him. “You’ve gotta be effing kidding me! That thing has a 10-footer difficulty rating!”

“Admitting defeat so soon, ahn?” Atobe smirked at me.

“Like hell I am! Bring it!” I shouted at the gloating jerk.

… I was barely into the third line of the song and I was already in danger of failing. I could hear the smug snickering around me.

“Aw, c’mon, Gakuto! What happened to all that dexterity and sharp reflexes that you’re so proud of?” Shishido taunted me.

“Shut up, freak!” I snapped back even as I was frantically jumping around the dance pad. “I said I was acrobatic, I never claimed to be an octopus! With all these arrows all over the place and the irregular beats, how am I supposed to get all of them? Besides,” I sniped, “I don’t think I’ve seen any of you guys attempt to do this song before.”

And then I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt Yuushi’s body flush against my back. I almost fell over in my surprise and my voice came out sounding two octaves higher when I squawked at him in flustered alarm, “Yuushi! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

He splayed a large hand on my stomach to help me keep my balance but that also kept my backside in constant contact with the front of his hips. God, this can NOT be a good thing.

“Relax,” Yuushi whispered into my ear. “We can finish this song together; I’ll help you.”

And so he did. Part of what makes us such an effective doubles pair is that Yuushi has always been good at reading me. We didn’t even need to talk about who was going to get which arrows, he just knew which ones I was going to go for and so he got those that I couldn’t. As we were on that dance pad, sinfully mooshed together in places I wouldn’t even tell my mother about, everything fell away. There was nothing else but me and Yuushi and the beat that flowed in us, through us, around us.

If I thought earlier that the sight of Yuushi’s hips were hypnotizing, then that had nothing on this feeling of our hips bumping, grinding, and swaying together. I was in a trance where it seemed as though all my senses have been heightened, but they were all geared towards sensing only Yuushi. I felt him, felt all the places where he touched me, felt the heat that his body was radiating. I saw him, saw how that hand of his splayed on my stomach seemed to be screaming of possession. I heard him, heard the slightly accelerated tempo of his heart, heard the heavy puffs of breath he blew out… that sound made my own even breathing turn ragged. I could smell him and hell! If I could bottle that smell and sell it as an aphrodisiac, I’d be a freaking millionaire! And dear God, we were so close that I could almost taste him…

And then the song ended.

I blinked owlishly as though waking up from a dream. I looked around to find everyone looking at me and Yuushi as though we just did the dirty right in front of them… and when I thought about it, we might as well have. My face burned up and I didn’t know what to say. I certainly wasn’t up to looking at Yuushi just then, or I just might have treated my friends to a first-hand viewing of spontaneous human combustion.

I stepped away from Yuushi, mumbled some lame excuse about needing to get something from my room and beat a hasty retreat.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I ran back to the room I shared with Yuushi in a panic. The weird churning in my stomach, the wild pounding in my chest, the breath getting stuck in my throat… Those weren’t part of the plan. They weren’t supposed to happen. The fact that they were happening was throwing me for a loop! It was hurting my brain.

I went to stand by the window and breathed in deeply of the salt-tinged air to calm myself, but the lean, muscled arms that encircled me from behind immediately had my heart racing again.

“Ne, Yuushi, you don’t have to do this,” I said in a tightly controlled voice. “Nobody’s here to see anyway.”

Yuushi’s arms tightened around me even more. “I’m not doing this for them; I’m doing this for you,” his voice always sounded so danged silky and sexy when he whispered into my hair like that. How come I never noticed that before? Yuushi likes whispering into my hair whenever I’m upset—it calms me down more effectively than anything else can. “You looked distressed when you left the room. Is everything alright?”

“Yeah,” I answered softly. Yuushi snorted into my hair.

I frowned. “You better not have gotten snot into my hair, Yuushi!”

He chuckled. Sexily. Damn! I am so screwed!

I turned around in Yuushi’s arms (since he was obviously unwilling to relinquish his hold on me), and I looked up at him to find him studying the top of my head. I called his name so he’d look at me. The second his eyes met mine, I almost wished he’d go back to staring at the top of my head.

“Ne, maybe we could stop pretending now,” I said thoughtfully. “The others guys aren’t quite as annoying anymore, so I guess I can live with some of their teasing every now and then.”

Yuushi laughed at me. “Gakuto, you have never taken teasing of any sort nicely. I doubt you ever will; not even if your life depended on it.”

I stuck my tongue out at him like the mature individual that I was. “Well, gee! Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I snapped out sarcastically.

He made soothing little circles with his hands on my back to placate me. “Maa, I just know you too well.”

“At any rate, I still think that I could handle the guys on my own now,” I said stubbornly. “You don’t have to pretend to like me anymore.”

Yuushi arched a brow at me. “Who said I was pretending?”

I rolled my eyes at him and pushed against his chest. “You are such an ass!” My heart was starting to pound so hard that I was almost sure Yuushi could hear it.

“And this,” Yuushi breathed out in that low, velvety voice of his as he pulled me against his chest, “is why people think you’re such an airhead.”

He leaned down close until I could feel his moist breath against my lips. His eyes were studying mine and I’m sure mine reflected the conflicting emotions and the reeling confusion I had swirling in my gut. “God, you are so clueless!” Yuushi muttered before he claimed my lips in a possessive kiss.

And all the gut-wrenching confusion was calmed; all the voices inside my head were silenced. Yes. Just… yes. This is what I have been wanting. Yuushi’s arms tightened around me in a bone-crushing embrace even as he deepened the kiss. I was so caught up in it that I had no choice but to respond to Yuushi’s passion. It wasn’t until I whimpered from lack of air that Yuushi broke the kiss.

“You are an ass,” I accused Yuushi.

He raised a silent, questioning brow at me.

“You knew all the time, didn’t you?” I looked at him suspiciously. “You knew it was going to end up like this.”

“Pretty much, yes.” Yuushi answered smugly. “You always were slow on the uptake like that. You didn’t even realize how much I wanted you. It was only a matter of time before I got you, you know.”

“Ass!” I said again. He just gave me his customary smirk-smile and was just about to lean down to kiss me again, when we heard the hectic whispering and arguing just outside the door—which was, incidentally, opened just a crack.

“Pay up, Shishido! I told you it was just an act!”

“Shut up! I ain’t paying you a cent, Atobe. They’re not acting now, are they?”

“But the bet was about the past 3 days, not for what’s happening now.”

“Ssshhh~! Atobe-buchou, Shishido-san, they’re gonna hear you…”

“Too late for that now,” Yuushi informed the spies by the door. “Could you settle your accounts elsewhere? And close the door properly, please. I’d like to make out with my boyfriend. In private, if you don’t mind.”

Scrambling noises were heard on the other side of the door before we heard the lock click into place.

“Now where were we…?”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Omake:

We were all sluggishly making our way down from the bus and going out into the bright sunlight. The “training camp” had been eventful in more ways than any of us could have ever imagined… and it wasn’t over just yet.

“Isn’t everyone out already?” Atobe asked, stamping his feet impatiently. “You’d think that after four straight hours cooped up in a bus, you’d be more than eager to get out of it when you reach your destination.”

Yuushi pushed up his glasses and looked at the shuttle bus. “I believe that Hiyoshi-kun and Taki are still--”

“Whaaaaat~?!” We all heard Hiyoshi shriek from inside the bus. “But I thought Mukahi-senpai was only kidding about that!”

There was the sound of pattering feet and then we saw Hiyoshi shooting out of the bus and running off like a bat out of hell. Taki emerged from the bus only a little later.

“What the hell was that about?” Shishido asked.

Taki scratched his head in puzzlement. “I just confessed to him… I thought it would be alright.” And then he turned to look at me, “Ne, Mukahi, what exactly did you tell Hiyoshi?”

~owari~
07/10/2008

Cool off, Zandra!

solanum_d — Tue, 02 Sep 2008 11:48:38 GMT

Recipient: maja_li
Title: Vacation Vexation
Characters: Kaidoh Kaoru and Momoshiro Takeshi [With appearances by Kaidoh’s family.]
Pairing: Momoshiro/Kaidoh
Rating: PG-15 to R, I’d say.
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis belongs to Konomi-sensei, not me. I just like messing around with his characters. :D
Warnings: Sweaty boys, a bit of cursing, slight UST, some frottage, sexual situations
Summary: Kaidoh’s parents have rented a house near the beach for a week. Much to Kaidoh’s chagrin, his mother has also invited Momoshiro along for the trip. Will Kaidoh be able to get some peace and quiet with Momoshiro around?
Notes: I haven’t written Kaidoh or Momo in a very very long time so I’m sorry if they seem even the slightest bit out of character. Thanks to my wonderful betas skittles and aman_amarth for helping me out. ♥

---

Road trips.

They were most definitely without a doubt the bane of Kaidoh Kaoru’s existence. In his 16 years of life he had only been on two of them. Once with his parents and younger brother Hazue, the second time with his junior-high tennis team.

Both times hadn’t been fun to him at all. The first was because Hazue had gotten sick in the car and then the windows wouldn’t roll down. The second was because of his obnoxious teammates. If it wasn’t Fuji-senpai and Inui-senpai wanting them to play games where the ‘prize’ was Inui’s latest juice, it was Eiji-senpai and that idiot Momoshiro trying to get him to eat the weird snacks they’d snuck onto the bus without Tezuka-buchou’s knowledge.

Today, however unfortunate it was, just happened to be Kaidoh’s third ever road trip. And not only was he with his parents and Hazue, that damned monkey Momoshiro was along for the ride as well. His mother had somehow gotten it in her head that they were… friends and had invited Momoshiro along. Clearly the Higher Powers were out to make his life a living hell. If it wasn’t for the fact that at the end of this blasted car ride he would be at an almost private beach where he could do all the training he wanted, he would even have agreed to come along. Because if it wasn’t bad enough that his mother had invited Momoshiro in the first place, it was the fact that his brother actually got along well with the idiot.

And to make matters worse, Hazue and Momoshiro were singing along to the radio in a bad attempt at English. Kaidoh’s mother had picked up some English music that she liked to call ‘traveling music’ at the CD store and had put it on right after they had pulled out of the driveway. It hadn’t been so bad at first, but after several replays of the CD he was more than ready to pull it out of the CD deck and throw it out the window.

Good riddance to bad music.

But he knew his mother would most likely make his father turn around and head back home if he did throw the CD out so he decided it was best to just sit back and deal with it. Listening to Momoshiro’s bad English would certainly be better than listening to Hazue cry the entire way back home about how ‘Onii-chan ruined everything’.

And listening to Hazue cry was definitely not in Kaidoh’s plans today. He planned to arrive at the house his parents had rented for the week, drop his belongings in the closest bedroom and then go for a nice, long (and hopefully uninterrupted) run down the beach.

Little did he know, however, that his plans would be ruined by a certain younger brother and his monkey-brained accomplice.

---

“Kaoru, where do you think you’re going?” Kaidoh heard his mother ask just as he started for the door.

“For a run,” Kaidoh replied, glancing over his shoulder at his mother.

“Right now? But we just got here.”

“Yeah… I want to go while there’s still some light out.”

“…If you must. But take your brother and Takeshi-kun with you.” His mother said sweetly, a smile spreading across her features.

Bring Hazue and the monkey with him? What part of ‘I’m going for a run’ didn’t his mother understand? He couldn’t exactly enjoy his run if his brother and Momoshiro came with him. What the hell were they going to do anyway? Watch him run? That wouldn’t be fun for anyone involved. And it wasn’t like Hazue would be able to keep up with him if he decided to run as well. Momoshiro would probably be able to attempt to catch up with him, but Hazue would just drag them behind because he had shorter legs and bad stamina.

No, letting Momoshiro and Hazue tag along was definitely not okay with him. Not okay in any way, shape or form. “Mom, I want to go on my own,” Kaidoh said, his tone of voice full of defiance.

“Kaoru,” His mother started, “we’re only here for a week. Do you want your brother and friend to not have fun while we’re here?”

“They can have fun on their own… and Momoshiro is not my friend.” Kaidoh all but mumbled, all defiance leaving his tone in less than a second.

“What did you say, Kaoru?”

“I said that of course I want them to have fun. And I hope it will never end.”

“That’s what I thought you said,” She smiled a little wider now and then turned to the hallway where she knew Momoshiro and Hazue were waiting, “Hazue, Takeshi-kun… Kaoru has agreed to let you go with him to the beach.”

Kaidoh’s groan was fortunately hidden by the loud whoops and yells from Momoshiro and his brother. If he had thought the road trip part of this vacation had been bad, he wasn’t sure if he wanted to face the rest of it.

---

“Now, you’re both to stay here while I go for my run, understand? I don’t want either of you following me.” Kaidoh stated, from his brother to Momoshiro and back again.

“But Onii-san…”

“No buts. Stay here with the monkey.” Kaidoh said with a tone of finality in his voice.

“He’s a jerk, Hazue.” Momoshiro said as soon as Kaidoh had run off, “Stick with me and you’ll definitely have fun while we’re here!” He flashed Hazue the peace sign and grinned.

“Okay!” Hazue responded and flashed the peace sign back at Momoshiro before they both ran off into the water.

Kaidoh turned slightly and watched them splash around in the water. Idiots, the both of them. But as long as they kept each other distracted and didn’t bother him, they could be idiots all they liked. He picked up his pace a little more and then continued to run down the sand.

It was definitely nice to be able to run down this beach and not be bothered by anyone he didn’t know. He wasn’t sure how his father had found a beach out in the middle of nowhere that was this private, but he was definitely thankful for it. He was annoyed when people would stop him when he was out on his runs back in Tokyo, and so he was glad that here he couldn’t be interrupted. Well, he hoped he wouldn’t be interrupted.

As long as both Hazue and that stupid monkey continued to play on their own and left him alone he would definitely enjoy this little vacation that his parents had planned. Of course, he would have been able to enjoy it more if his mother hadn’t invited Momoshiro, but at least this way there was someone to distract Hazue so that he wouldn’t be bothering Kaidoh the entire time.

Just because he told his mother that he hoped the idiots had fun on this vacation didn’t mean that he had to be part of the fun. And he definitely didn’t want to be part of the fun. His mother would probably force him to be part of it during the times they were in the house, but during the time when he was outside on his own? Momoshiro and Hazue could fend for themselves.

Momoshiro always claimed that he ‘ruined the fun’ anyway, so it wasn’t like the other boy would want him to be in on it. Kaidoh couldn’t help it if his definition of ‘fun’ was opposite from Momoshiro’s. And really, how had his mother come to the conclusion that they were friends? They were teammates on their high-school tennis team and that was all.

Of course, it was probably just his mother trying to find him people of his own age to hang out with, but Kaidoh was more than happy to be on his own. He could do more thinking when he was on his own and didn’t have to deal with someone barging into his personal space. And what was the exact thing that Momoshiro always did when they were alone together? Barge into Kaidoh’s personal space, of course.

Not that he was alone with Momoshiro a lot, but the monkey just seemed to like to invade the personal bubbles of others. Especially when the other person didn’t want their personal bubble invaded. Perhaps it was just something about how Momoshiro had been raised or because he was just a downright idiot, but Kaidoh didn’t like being around him. He would rather be friends with Tezuka-buchou over Momoshiro and Tezuka had almost no personality.

It definitely wasn’t easy being Kaidoh Kaoru.

Especially when he had to deal with idiot teammates and idiot brothers when he just wanted to be left alone.

---

It was close to 8:00PM when he heard his mother calling them back to the house. Kaidoh begrudgingly headed up the hill to the small house where he was suddenly accosted by a very loud and very wet Momoshiro. The other boy threw his arms around Kaidoh’s shoulders and laughed right into his ear while an equally loud and wet Hazue slung himself around Kaidoh’s waist.

Did they really have to start bugging him as soon as they got back to the house?

“Get off me!” Kaidoh shouted and tried to push them both off. But neither was willing to let him go.

“No!” They both shouted back and then dragged Kaidoh the rest of the way up the hill and then into the house.

Kaidoh’s mother beamed as she saw all three of them stumble through the door together, “Oh, so you did have fun today! Good! Now come in and get changed and then come eat dinner.”

Kaidoh successfully threw both Hazue and Momoshiro off and rushed to bring his things into the bathroom so that he could change out of his previously dry clothes. Stupid idiots getting him all wet and gross when he had been the only one to not enter the water. He pulled his shirt and shorts off and then searched through his bag for something dry.

But just as he pulled some dry clothes out of his bag, the bathroom door was thrown open and Momoshiro’s voice filled his ears. “Let me in, Mamushi.”

“Get out!” Kaidoh hollered at him and tried to push him out the door.

“We’re both boys, it doesn’t matter. Let me in.”

“Fine,” Kaidoh replied, scowling darkly as he closed the door behind Momoshiro.

“Thanks,” Momoshiro beamed and then started to pull his wet clothes off.

“Ugh! At least have the decency to wait until I’m turned away first. I don’t want to see you naked.” Kaidoh stated, before turning away from Momoshiro and quickly getting dressed so that he could exit the bathroom as fast as possible.

“You’ve seen me naked at least ten times before, Mamushi. Shared showers at school, remember?”

“Shut up, you monkey.” Kaidoh replied and turned farther away from Momoshiro. He didn’t want the idiot to see that he was blushing.

“Are you sure you don’t want to see me naked?” Momoshiro asked, wiggling his eyebrows a little in Kaidoh’s direction.

“Definitely sure,” Kaidoh stated before throwing the door to the bathroom open and rushing out.

Could Momoshiro be anymore obnoxious and disgusting? No, no, he definitely could be. Kaidoh just didn’t want to see it. He sighed and walked back out into the main area of the house and sat down in one of the chairs. He looked over at his mother and saw her awkwardly shifting back and forth on her feet.

“…Mom, is something wrong?” Kaidoh asked, raising an eyebrow slightly.

“Well… I don’t think it’s a problem but you might.”

“What do you mean?”

“The room that you’re sharing with Takeshi-kun only has one bed.”

“What?” Kaidoh asked politely at the same time that Momoshiro shouted a very confused “WHAT?!” from just around the corner to the main room.

“The room you two are sharing has only one bed.”

“He’s sleeping on the floor.” Kaidoh replied simply.

“No I’m not!” Momoshiro shouted and walked into the room.

“Yes, you are. I’m not sharing a bed with someone like you.” Kaidoh stated, getting up from the chair and heading into the kitchen.

As far as he was concerned, the conversation was over. There was no way he would share the bed with Momoshiro. Even if it was a queen or king size bed, he still wouldn’t share with the monkey. Because there could very well be a chance that some of Momoshiro’s idiot germs would get onto Kaidoh and he would become an exact carbon copy of the other. And he definitely enjoyed being himself.

---

After dinner was over, Kaidoh went into the room and surveyed the room that he was to share with Momoshiro. Yes, it definitely only had one bed. A double bed, but as far as Kaidoh was concerned it was too small for both of them.

“That bed can definitely fit the both of us in it with a ton of space between us!” Momoshiro shouted as he stood in the doorway to the room.

“Doesn’t matter,” Kaidoh replied and glanced over his shoulder at Momoshiro, “You’re not sleeping in it.”

“Why not?!”

Kaidoh wanted to tell him the truth about being worried that he could catch idiot from him, but he decided against it at the last minute. “Because I heard from Echizen that you unconsciously cling to the person you’re sharing a bed with. I don’t want you touching me.”

“Echizen’s a liar.” Momoshiro replied, moving into the room a little more before throwing himself down onto the bed.

“Get off of there!” Kaidoh shouted and then climbed onto the bed so that he could throw Momoshiro off.

He grabbed a hold of Momoshiro’s shoulders and made to throw him off the bed.

“You just said you didn’t want me touching you and now you’re touching me,” Momoshiro said, wiggling his eyebrows again.

“SHUT UP AND GET OFF!”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Then I’ll make you!”

“How do you plan to do that, Ka-o-ru?” Momoshiro asked, drawing out each syllable of Kaidoh’s name.

“Do not use my first name!”

“Why can’t I use it? Your mother does.”

“That’s because she’s my mother, you dumb ass.”

“So what do I have to do to have the privilege to call you by your first name?”

“There’s nothing you could do.” Kaidoh replied, rolling off of Momoshiro and climbing off the bed.

“Are you sure?” Momoshiro asked, turning onto his side and resting his chin in the palm of his hand.

“Yes. Now go to sleep.” Kaidoh stated, pulling one of the pillows off the bed and then heading out of the room.

“Where are you going?”

“To sleep on the couch. You stay here.”

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch, Mamushi. You can stay here.”

“I’m not going to share the bed with you. How do I know you won’t try to molest me in my sleep?”

“I’m not that sexually-frustrated. I wouldn’t molest you.”

“I’m still not going to share the bed with you.”

“Just suck it up and get in the bed, Mamushi.”

“As long as you promise you won’t touch me.”

“I promise. Now shut up and get into the bed.” Momoshiro practically growled, glaring over at Kaidoh.

Kaidoh sighed and threw the pillow onto the bed, and then lay down on the side of the bed farthest away from Momoshiro. He slid under the blankets and then rolled onto his side away from the other boy. He would put up with sharing a bed with the idiot as long as he didn’t try to touch him in any way. He wasn’t into other boys so he didn’t want to deal with Momoshiro who was always hitting on both sexes.

“Mamushi, I’m not going to touch you. You don’t have to sleep that far away from me.” Momoshiro said, moving a little closer to Kaidoh in the bed at the same time that Kaidoh moved a little more in so that he wouldn’t be almost hanging off the side. “There, now is that so bad?”

“Shut up and sleep.” Kaidoh responded, still turned away from Momoshiro.

---

Kaidoh woke up around 2:00AM and found himself unable to move. There was a very uncomfortable weight on his chest. He glanced down and spotted Momoshiro curled up to him, the monkey boy’s legs entwined with his own. Echizen was most definitely not a liar. And not only was Kaidoh unable to move, he was also practically unable to breathe and very, very, very warm.

“Get off me,” Kaidoh said into the darkness and pushed at Momoshiro’s frame. But Momoshiro continued to cling to him. Damn it, the idiot was awful heavy. Must have been from all the damned fast food he ate.

“Mmm… Kaoru,” Momoshiro muttered into Kaidoh’s chest and held him even tighter.

“Move, you idiot,” Kaidoh stated. “I can’t breathe.”

He pushed on Momoshiro once more and finally succeeded on getting the other boy to let go. Succeeded far too well though because Momoshiro soon found himself sprawled across the floor, one leg still partially on the bed. Kaidoh glanced over the edge of the bed and stared down at Momoshiro. Somehow Momoshiro was still asleep. Kaidoh shook his head and then moved back onto the bed and made himself comfortable.

Not even a minute later, he heard a pained groan from the general vicinity of where Momoshiro had fallen off the bed. “…Mamushi, why am I on the floor?”

“You fell,” Kaidoh answered nonchalantly.

“I fell?” Momoshiro asked, throwing him leg off the bed so that he could sit up and look at Kaidoh.

“Yeah. You were rolling in your sleep and you just kind of…fell off.”

“Oh,” Momoshiro replied, laughing a little, “I do that all the time at home.” Kaidoh rolled his eyes and then stared up at the ceiling. Momoshiro was really gullible sometimes. “I didn’t say anything weird in my sleep, did I?” Momoshiro questioned as he climbed back into the bed and lay down next to Kaidoh once more.

“Not really.”

“Okay then,” Momoshiro stated and then began to fan himself. “Shit, is it ever warm in here.”

“Yeah, it really is.” Kaidoh agreed, sitting up and pulling off his t-shirt, throwing it aside.

“Is there any way we could make it less warm in here?”

“Nope, the window latch is broken and won’t open.”

“Seriously?” Momoshiro asked. He got out of the bed and ran for the window, tugging at the latch incessantly.

“I told you it’s broken. You’re going to hurt your hand if you continue to do that.”

“Then how are we supposed to cool down?!” Momoshiro asked, flopping back down on the bed after giving up on trying to pry the window to open.

“I don’t know. Just shut up and try to sleep.”

“But it’s too warm to sleep,” Momoshiro complained, rolling onto his side and staring down at Kaidoh. “Think we could go for a midnight swim? That water has got to be freezing~”

“It’s 2:00AM.”

“Then we’ll go for a 2:00AM swim, whatever. Can we go?”

“Fine,” Kaidoh replied, “Just don’t make a bunch of noise. Because if you wake up Hazue…”

“I won’t wake him up. Now come on, let’s go!” Momoshiro smacked Kaidoh on his bare chest a few times and then jumped off the bed, ripping open the door two seconds later.

Kaidoh sighed and climbed off the bed, following Momoshiro out of the house. They ran down the hill and straight into the water. Momoshiro let out a loud moan as soon as the cold water hit his skin. Kaidoh shivered a little at first but did have to admit that it was definitely nicer than the warmth of the room they had been sleeping in. He turned away from the house and reveled in how the moon was reflected off the lake. Normally, he wasn’t one to notice nature-type stuff like this but it actually looked pretty nice.

Momoshiro decided to take advantage of Kaidoh looking away from him to attack the taller boy from behind. Perhaps Kaidoh would kick his ass for even attempting to jump on him but the loud scream that he let out was definitely worth it. “Ahhh, what the hell?!” Kaidoh shouted, pushing Momoshiro so the other ended up in the water.

“God damn it Mamushi that’s cold!” Momoshiro shouted back, getting back onto his feet.

“Shut up, you’re the one who attacked me first!”

“It’s not my fault you let your guard down! Clearly you haven’t been listening close enough to Tezuka-buchou’s speeches.”

“Shut your damn mouth!” Kaidoh hollered, reaching forward to grab a fistful of Momoshiro’s wet t-shirt.

“You shut it for me!”

“Fine!” Kaidoh shouted right into Momoshiro’s face before leaning forward and pressing his lips against the other male’s. Normally, he wouldn’t have even considered kissing Momoshiro as a way to properly shut him up, but it really was the only thing he could think of on such short notice. Momoshiro pulled back a few minutes later and stared incredulously at Kaidoh. “You… You kissed me!” He shouted, pointing at the other boy.

“Shut up, no I didn’t.” Kaidoh said in a voice that was almost a whisper.

“Yes, you did… and you liked it.”

“You’re wrong.”

“You’re always pushing me away and telling me not to touch you and then… you…you kissed me. Mamushi, do you by any chance… like me?” Momoshiro asked, moving closer to Kaidoh and getting right in his personal space.

“Of course not,” Kaidoh said, his voice cracking a little as a slight blush crossed his face, “Shut up.”

“You do like me! Oh, I can’t wait to tell Echizen about this when we get back!”

“You’re not telling anyone anything,” Kaidoh said before he walked out of the water and then stomped up the hill to the house.

“Mamushi, wait up!” Momoshiro shouted, running out of the water and then up the hill after Kaidoh.

“Shut your damn mouth,” Kaidoh said as he stared down at his feet, his fists clenched at his sides, “Shut up or I’ll punch you…”

“You wouldn’t punch me unless I gave you a reason to. And I don’t think I have.” Momoshiro stated plainly, turning Kaidoh around so that they were face to face and then leaned forward a few inches until their lips were touching once more. He pulled back a few seconds later and laughed loudly, “There. Now I’ve given you a reason to punch me.”

Momoshiro was fully expecting Kaidoh to reach forward and punch him straight in the jaw. But instead he soon found himself kissing Kaidoh once again, the older boy tentatively sliding his tongue along Momoshiro’s bottom lip. Momoshiro opened his mouth a little to grant Kaidoh access to his mouth. Kaidoh slowly slid his tongue into Momoshiro’s mouth and before either of them knew it, they were kissing so hard that there wasn’t enough air to breathe and they were forced to break apart.

Kaidoh took in a few deep breaths before whispering two words into the night air, “Inside. Now.”

Momoshiro didn’t have to be told twice and let Kaidoh lead him into the house. They all but ran to their room, closed the door behind them and then collapsed onto the bed in a mess of lips and limbs. They couldn’t get each other out of their wet clothes quick enough, but soon found themselves completely naked on top of the sheets.

Kaidoh breathed against Momoshiro’s collarbone and laughed a little. Was he really just about to have sex with Momoshiro Takeshi? …Yes, yes apparently he was. This all seemed so ridiculous but definitely not unwelcome.

“…Why are you laughing?” Momoshiro asked as he stared up at Kaidoh.

“Never mind,” Kaidoh replied as he pressed his body down against Momoshiro’s causing a nice friction between their bodies.

Momoshiro rocked up against Kaidoh as Kaidoh continued to press down on him. It was definitely an odd feeling to have someone else’s erection pressed up against his own, but definitely not the worst thing he had ever felt. He pulled Kaidoh down by the back of his neck and slid his tongue into the taller boy’s mouth. He wanted to be kissing Kaidoh when he came (and damn, was he ever getting close) because he figured it would be more intimate that way.

Kaidoh hissed into Momoshiro’s mouth and nearly bit the younger boy’s tongue off as he felt his climax nearing. He rocked down into the other’s hips a few more times before he came between their bodies. That was all it took for Momoshiro and he found himself coming shortly after, his loud moan becoming lost in Kaidoh’s mouth.

It was definitely a shock to Kaidoh Kaoru that he had just had sex with Momoshiro Takeshi of all people.

But the real surprise would come in the morning when his mother would find him all naked and sticky in a bed with someone that he didn’t even consider a friend.

Yes, it definitely wasn’t easy to be Kaidoh Kaoru. But if it all it took for to shut up the idiot monkey was to kiss him and get him off, Kaidoh would be sure to use the tactic more than just this once.

Cool off, Mari!

senshixdoukeshi — Mon, 01 Sep 2008 21:27:45 GMT

Recipient: llamachan
Title: Lemon Cinnamon Raspberry Dream
Rating/Worksafe: PG/yes
Pairing/Characters/School: Inui/Tezuka; Seigaku
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis is Konomi's. No profits are made off of this fanfic.

Lemon Cinnamon Raspberry Dream

"The goal of today's training is quite clear." Inui adjusted his glasses, looking seriously at the gathered regular team. "We need to train your endurance. To do that, the best way is to train under extreme conditions." His expression turned into a wicked smirk, he added, "Such as the current heat wave."

"That's just cruel, nyaa!" Eiji complained, crossing his hands behind his head. "Inui's such a meanie! It's no good to train in this heat; we'll just end up fainting and withering away!"

"Now, now, Eiji," Oishi said. "It's not like we can choose the weather for matches, either! What if we have a match on a horribly hot day?"

"Then the opponent is just as screwed," Eiji replied, sticking his tongue out. "I'm absolutely sure no other team ever trains in such horrible conditions, nyaa! Only Inui is sadistic enough for this!"

"Well, Kikumaru does have a point." Inui adjusted his glasses again, ignoring the surprised gasps, exclamations, and other such sounds at his agreement. "Of course, I cannot force anyone to participate in this exercise. However," his smirk turned even more wicked, "there will be a penalty."

"A penalty?" Eiji made a face, stepping back. "You don't mean…"

"Indeed." Inui's smirk got even wider. "This." He presented a clear water bottle. Inside it they could see a suspiciously murky liquid with shades of purple mixed in. "Super Cool Inui Heat-Beating Juice. Guaranteed to keep you… cool." Even with the sun currently boiling their blood, everyone knew that the 'cool' in this case would hardly be a pleasant thing.

"Eww," Momo said. "That looks like it will kill you if you drink it, it really looks like that!"

"My, that drink looks interesting." Fuji smiled happily, looking for all the world as though he was just dying to get a taste. "But what exactly is this exercise of yours, Inui?"

Inui's smirk got just a bit wider. "It is…" a moment of ominous silence, "an ice cream hunt."

"Whaaaat?" Momo exclaimed. "Ice cream? There's ice cream? Where?"

"In quite a few places, actually." Inui adjusted his glasses. "There are several ice cream shops around this area. However, somewhere in the vicinity there is a very special shop." As they gave him questioning gazes, he continued, "There is only one ice cream shop in all of Tokyo that sells lemon cinnamon raspberry ice cream."

"…Lemon cinnamon raspberry?" Taka-san blinked. "That sounds… quite strange, really."

"Aww, don't be like that, Taka-san!" Eiji said cheerfully. "It's ice cream, so it obviously can't be bad, right? Nyaa, tell more, Inui! So we have to find that shop, right?"

"Exactly." Inui nodded. "The shop is owned by a relative of mine; I have talked with him about this exercise. Once you find the shop selling this flavour, tell him your name and make sure he notes it down. After this, practice is over for your part, and you'll be free to go wherever you want."

"Is there a penalty for that?" Echizen asked, tugging his cap down. "Or can we just spend the rest of the day walking around in search of this shop?"

"Well, if you want to, I suppose so," Inui said. "But if you were thinking of taking a nap or something, you might want to reconsider. The shop owner promised one free ice cream to every one of us who finds their way there in two hours."

"Free ice cream?" Eiji's eyes flew wide. "Yaaaay! This is the best exercise ever! Don't you think so, Oishi?" He clung to Oishi's arm, receiving a slight smile in return.

"…What's the catch?" Kaidou frowned. "This sounds a bit too nice for one of your exercises, Inui-senpai."

"Well, I never said it would be easy, did I?" Inui raised his eyebrows. "When I said the ice cream shop would be somewhere close to this place, I was using rather relative terms." He smirked, pushing his glasses up his nose. "In this case, 'in the vicinity' means 'within a five kilometre radius of this spot."

"Five kilometres?" Momo echoed. "But that's a long way to run, especially in this heat! And if we don't even know which way it is…"

"Exactly." Inui smirked. "This is a test of both luck and endurance. The faster you are, the more places you can check within the two hours – but in this heat, very few people can keep up a good speed for too long." He glanced towards Kaidou. "Kaidou, I quite expect you to excel in this task."

"…Fsshuuu. I'll do my best, Inui-senpai." Kaidou glanced away. "So… when does the time start?"

"Well…" Inui glanced down at his watch. "I'd say approximately… five seconds or so ago."

"Huh?" Eiji blinked. "You should have given us a warning, nyah! Come on, Oishi, the time's ticking away! Hurry, hurry!" Grasping on Oishi's hand, he started dragging him away. Everyone else scattered around, running every which way to start their search. Inui alone stood still, watching the team spread around.

Once everyone was out of sight, Inui sighed a bit, adjusting his glasses once again. "Really," he said, "they are almost too easy to predict, sometimes. There was a 97.8 percent chance this would be the result of my words."

With this, he turned around and walked to the doors behind him. Pushing them open, he nodded at the shopkeeper. "Good afternoon, uncle," he said. "The two hours start now."

*

"Eiji?" Oishi asked his partner once they'd run for a while. "Do you have any kind of a plan for the search?"

"Well, obviously, nyah!" Eiji replied. "Do you really think I'd just run around and check every ice cream shop without any kind of a plan? Silly Oishi!"

"Well, it sure looked like that for a while," Oishi replied, slowing down a bit. Eiji slowed down also, probably without even fully realizing it, thankfully all too used to Oishi setting the pace. "So, care to share this master plan of yours with me?"

"If you insist." Eiji stuck out his tongue. "We'll just run right past all the shops I know, nyah, because I know none of them sell such a weird ice cream flavour!"

"…Somehow, I'm not surprised." Had Oishi been an anime character, he might now have produced a gigantic sweat drop. "That sounds like… an Eiji kind of a plan."

"Ehh? You have a better idea, then?" Eiji asked.

"Well… to be honest, not really," Oishi had to admit.

"See?" Eiji stuck out his tongue. "So leave thinking to the great Kikumaru-sama!"

Oishi just chuckled and did exactly so, instead concentrating on making sure neither of them ran himself to exhaustion.

*

"Tezuka." Inui glanced at his watch, licking his spoon before sinking it into his ice cream again. "Only ten minutes. I'm fairly impressed."

"I should have realized it earlier," Tezuka sighed, his expression just as serious as ever. "Like everyone else, though, I was thrown off by the comment about distance and didn't realize we were standing right in front of an ice cream shop."

"I know." Inui smirked. "Quite ingenious, don't you think?"

"…If you say so." Tezuka took a seat next to Inui, then nodded at the shop keeper. "Thank you for assisting in our practice."

"Oh, it's not any trouble," the man replied cheerfully. "Sadaharu-kun is not only my nephew but also one of my best customers. I couldn't really say no to him."

"Really?" Tezuka raised his eyebrows, turning to look at Inui. "I never really thought you the type to like ice cream, Inui."

"Well, even I have my quirks." Inui ate another spoonful of the red-and-green striped ice cream. "Although I do admit I'm rather selective about what I'll eat."

"Oh?" Tezuka eyed the ice cream. "And what is that? Mint and strawberry?"

"Not… quite." Inui smirked. "It's actually spinach and octopus. Care for a taste?" He took some into the spoon, offering it to Tezuka with a wicked smirk.

"I… think I'll pass." Tezuka shook his head. "I'm not quite one for such… unusual… flavours."

"Well, then what would you like, Tezuka-kun?" The shop keeper smiled at him. "You did make it back within the time limit, after all. We serve quite an impressive variety of flavours here, if I do say so myself." He nodded towards the list on the wall nearby.

Tezuka quickly scanned the list. It was… impressive, all right. He was beginning to think he knew where Inui had got his peculiar tastes. "…I think just plain vanilla will do," he then said blankly. He really was not craving for cactus ice cream.

"Really, Tezuka." Inui sighed. "You're quite a boring one, aren't you? You really should broaden your horizons every now and then."

"I'd rather not broaden my horizons with something that will possibly make me sick," Tezuka replied dryly. "…Besides, you already knew I would take vanilla, didn't you?"

Inui shrugged. "It was a 83 percent chance," he said. "The remaining 17 percent being the remote possibility Oishi had managed to influence you with his taste for chocolate ice cream."

Tezuka's lips twitched, just a little. Probably not even Inui's ever so observant eyes noticed a thing. "There's nothing wrong with plain vanilla."

Inui's smirk was decidedly wicked, now. "Prove it."

*

"Do you like ice cream, Taka-san?"

"Ah… I eat it sometimes, yes." Taka-san smiled a bit. "What about you, Fuji?"

"Well, not so much, really," Fuji admitted. "I'm not too much into sweet things. But then," he grinned, "if this shop of Inui's has such weird flavours, it's sure to have something less than sweet, too, wouldn't you think?"

"Well, I really can't imagine lemon ice cream would be too sweet," Taka-san commented, scratching the back of his neck. "So… you know any ice cream shops around here that we could ask?"

"I think there's one behind that little park there." Fuji pointed. "We should be able to cut right through it."

"Ah, okay." They weren't exactly running, nor quite walking; a peaceful half-jog the most comfortable pace for them. After all, they wanted to find the shop as soon as possible, but neither thought it very wise to exhaust themselves right in the beginning. "There seems to be a nice little path right through the park…"

"Oh, wait." Fuji stopped, looking at something. "Isn't there someone lying under that tree?" He frowned a bit. "I think I recognize that uniform…"

"Oh!" Taka-san's eyes widened. "It's the Hyoutei tennis uniform! I wonder if he's all right…" He started approaching the tree instead of their intended destination, Fuji following without a protest. On such a hot day, it wasn't exactly impossible to think someone had collapsed there.

Upon closer inspection, they noted there was nothing to worry about. The curly-haired Hyoutei player was rather peacefully asleep. Fuji chuckled. "He's the one who won against Yuuta," he said. "Jirou, wasn't it? That was a fun match."

"He was quite impressed at your skills, wasn't he?" Taka-san remembered. "But then, that's only natural, you're such a great player after all…"

"Aw, you flatter me, Taka-san." Fuji flashed him a bright smile, making Taka-san flush a little. "Although I wonder… is it good for him to sleep in this heat? He's in the shadow now, but the sun will soon move to shine right down at him…"

"You're right," Taka-san replied with a worried frown. "I'll wake him up." Crouching down next to Jirou, he gently shook his shoulder. "Hey, wake up, please!"

Jirou mumbled something, turning onto his back. "Mmm… Kabaji, let me sleep… just five more minutes…" he muttered.

Taka-san smiled a bit, then shook again. "You really should wake up," he said softly. "It's not good to sleep out when it's this hot…"

"Huh? You're talking…" Jirou managed to open his eyes enough to look at Taka-san. "…You're not Kabaji."

"Well, no…" Taka-san scratched the back of his neck. "We just, well, we thought…"

"You shouldn't fall asleep out in this heat like that," Fuji said, smiling slightly. "It's not healthy if you're too long out in the sun."

"Huh?" Jirou blinked as he heard Fuji's voice. Then his eyes flew wide and he bounced up. "Wow, it's you! You're such a great player! I wish we can play against each other again soon!"

"I quite wish so, too." Fuji smiled happily. "Before that, though, it's no good if you get yourself sick by getting sunstroke."

"I won't, I won't!" Jirou let out an embarrassed chuckle as he scratched his head. "What are you doing here? Do you have club practice in the park or something?"

"Well, yes and no," Fuji replied. "Our manager sent us out to look for one particular ice cream shop."

"Ice cream shop?" Jirou blinked. "What ice cream shop?"

"We don't know the name," Taka-san explained. "We were only told they sell lemon cinnamon raspberry ice cream."

"Oh, that one!" Jirou smiled brightly. "I know a lot of ice cream shops, but that's one of the most fun ones! I even got Atobe to go there once, but he really didn't like any of the weird flavours. He sure is strange, don't you think? Anyway, if you have to find it, I can show you the way! It's not even very far, I don't think!"

Fuji's smile got a bit brighter. "We'd be very happy if you agreed to help us."

*

Momo was running.

Granted, he had started off running, but then he'd slowed down for a moment. Now, though, he was again running, running as fast as he could. And the reason for this was running right before him.

"I'll catch you yet!" Momoshiro yelled at Kamio. "You rhythm idiot!"

"You wish!" Kamio replied, his feet beating the ground rapidly. "I'm faster than you any day!"

"No way!" The hunt for the ice cream place had entirely deserted Momo's mind. He'd still been thinking of it a while ago, but then Kamio had arrived, commenting on how slow he was running, and really Momoshiro you should stick to walking before you hurt yourself or break someone's bike. There was obviously no way Momo was going to back down from such a challenge. Which was the reason they were currently both running down the street under the burning sun, only barely avoiding any collisions with innocent – and quite bewildered – passers-by.

"Just give up, Momoshiro!" Kamio turned to shout over his shoulder. This was when someone came from behind the corner. Momo tried to shout out for him to watch out, but there was no way for Kamio to stop in time anyway. He ran right into the newly appeared person, Momoshiro crashing on top of both as he also failed to stop in time.

"Owww…" Momo whined as he got up. "That hurt, that really hurt!"

"You're one to speak," an annoyed voice snapped. "Ugh, my skirt's absolutely ruined! I never expected to be forced into wrestling today!"

"Huh?" Momo and Kamio glanced at each other, both recognizing the voice. Then Kamio, too, jumped up. "Waaah! An-chan!"

"Tachibana's little sister!" Momo exclaimed. "Did we run into you?"

"Oh, no." Tachibana An snorted as she got up, brushing dust off her skirt. "I just happened to be lying on the ground right where you decided to do a pile-up."

"I'm so sorry, An-chan!" Kamio shouted, bowing deep in apology. "Please forgive me! I never meant to –"

"It was all his fault!" Momoshiro announced. "Sorry, Tachibana's little sister!"

"Whaaat?" Kamio exclaimed, enraged. "It was all your fault! Yours alone!"

"No it's not, it'd definitely not! You are the one who challenged me!"

Who knew how long the boys would have been yelling at each other had they not been interrupted. Thankfully, An was there to end their useless argument. Grasping the front of both of their shirts, she glared quite successfully up at them.

"This is both of your fault," she said. "Therefore, you both owe me an ice cream."

"Ice cream?" Momo blinked. "…Oh, yeah, I was supposed to look for that."

"And still you started fighting with me?" Kamio asked, happily forgetting he had been the one to first comment on Momo's speed.

"Don't start another argument, now," An said, crossing her arms over her chest. "I want my lemon cinnamon raspberry ice cream, and I want it as soon as possible."

Momo stared at her. "Um… you know where to get that?"

"Well, obviously. I wouldn't be asking for it otherwise, would I?" This time it was An who blinked.

Momoshiro grinned brightly. "You know what, Tachibana's little sister?" he asked. "You just became my new favourite person."

*

Kaidou ran.

He was used to such exercises. This would be no problem. He would simply check every ice cream shop he came across; sooner or later he would find the right one.

But until he found it, he would run.

*

Echizen was not exactly in a hurry. Despite Inui's words, the mere promise of free ice cream would not make him run more than he absolutely had to. The best way to find such a weird ice cream flavour, he figured out, would be to ask people. Somebody was sure to know where to find such a shop.

Turning around a corner, he blinked as he looked at himself.

Upon closer inspection, of course, it was not himself after all. Instead, he was staring at that little copycat of Yamabuki. "…Dan, isn't it?"

"Yes desu!" The kid smiled brightly. "Wow, I never expected to run into Echizen-kun in such a way!"

"Yeah, sure." Echizen tugged his cap a bit lower. "Look, I don't have the time to chat right now. I have to find something."

"Oh?" Dan tilted his head to the side, apparently not having any intention of leaving him alone. "What are you looking for, Echizen-kun?"

"An ice cream shop." Echizen looked at him thoughtfully. Dan did look like the type to eat sweet things… "You think you could help me?"

"Oh, sure desu!" Dan grinned brightly. "What kind of a shop are you looking for?"

"One that sells lemon cinnamon raspberry ice cream." Such a weird combination… Echizen wondered if anyone actually ate such a thing.

"Hmm, let's see…" Dan thought for a moment. Then his expression brightened again. "Oh, I know that one! I sometimes go there with Akutsu-senpai desu!"

Echizen blinked. "Akutsu… eats ice cream?"

"Well, not usually desu." Dan fidgeted a bit. "But, you see… this shop sells tobacco-flavoured ice cream, too, so sometimes I manage to persuade him, you know?"

Echizen looked at Dan's bright grin and wide, puppy-like eyes. After a moment, he chuckled slightly. "…I guess." Adjusting his cap again, he asked, "So, you going to show me the way?"

"Sure desu!" Dan grinned. "Just come this way, Echizen-kun!" He then started running right to the direction Echizen had come from.

Shaking his head, Echizen followed. He really should have known…

*

"…I think we're lost, nyaa." Eiji looked around somewhat helplessly.

"I'm sure the situation's not quite that bad, Eiji." Oishi did his best to smile to hide his own worry. "We just haven't been to this area before. If we keep walking, we'll probably come across something familiar sooner or later."

"Or maybe we'll just get deeper into the strange area!" Eiji pointed out. "Nya, Oishi, you really think we'll find the way home?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Oishi patted Eiji's head somewhat awkwardly.

"Yay!" And, without any further warning, Eiji suddenly kissed him.

Oishi didn't know what to say or do. As it turned out, though, it didn't really matter. By the time he was somewhat prepared to talk again, someone else had already broken the silence.

"Well, well, well. Isn't this sweet." St. Rudolph's manager eyed them with a smirk. "Such good data on you… nfu."

"Ah, Mizuki-san," Oishi said. He really didn't feel comfortable around this person… "I'm sorry, Eiji just got a bit carried away…"

"What are you doing around here, anyway?" Mizuki twirled a lock of hair between his fingers. "I didn't know you came into this area often."

"We didn't mean to, nyah!" Eiji announced. "Stupid Inui just sent us out looking for some strange ice cream shop! I bet it doesn't really even exist at all…"

"Really, now?" Mizuki's smirk got just a bit more worrying. "Inui-kun did?" He chuckled again. "Nfu. An… ice cream shop, you say?"

"Exactly." Oishi sighed. Then, he asked, not really daring to hope, "Do you know anything about them?"

"But naturally!" Mizuki tsked. "Really. With such heat lately the locations and menus of the local ice cream shops are most essential data."

"Then would you help us?" Eiji asked, tilting his head to the side. "Please?"

"But of course." Mizuki chuckled again. "It is merely my duty, after all, to prove that my data is at least as good as Inui-kun's, wouldn't you agree?" He smirked. "So, what is this shop you're looking for?"

*

"Of course," Inui said, looking down at his data and then at the gathered team, "as some of you might have realized had you stopped to think, this wasn't only a test of endurance."

"Eh?" Momoshiro blinked. "What do you mean?"

"The most effective way of action," Inui replied, "would have been for everyone to spread out. You all have cell phones; it would have been rather easy for someone to inform all the others once they found the shop. We are, after all, a team. Even if we play our matches separately, successful team work is quite essential."

"Aw, don't be like that, Inui!" Eiji protested. "We all found our way here in the end, didn't we?"

"Indeed." Inui adjusted his glasses. "Kaidou simply kept running, relying on nobody but himself. Tezuka noticed my scheme right away. Taka-san and Fuji were led here by a Hyoutei student, and Echizen by Dan-kun from Yamabuki. Momoshiro arrived with two Fudoumine students and kept fighting with one of them until they finally left, and Oishi and Eiji were helped find this place by Saint Rudolph's Mizuki, who immediately started purposefully annoying both myself and Fuji."

"In other words," Oishi said with a sheepish smile, "we had good team work with people who weren't from our team?"

"Exactly." Inui shook his head. "I cannot even say whether this was a great success or an absolute failure."

"This is all quite interesting," Fuji said, smiling a bit. "However, there's another bit of data I'm quite a lot more interested in."

"Oh?" Inui raised his eyebrows. "And that would be?"

"When Taka-san and I arrived… why was Tezuka feeding you ice cream?"

Reminder: Dead line is August 15th!

solanum_d — Sun, 08 Jun 2008 03:49:30 GMT

Hey all,

This is just a friendly reminder that the Beat the Heat deadline is August 15th and it must be beta'ed!

If you are having any trouble with your assignment, trouble finding a beta, or are discovering that you are in fact unable to participate, please post here or send us an email.

Thank you,

solanum_d
senshixdoukeshi