Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/224137.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Tennis_no_Oujisama_|_Prince_of_Tennis
  Relationship:
      Ohtori_Choutarou/Shishido_Ryou, Akutagawa_Jiroh/Atobe_Keigo
  Character:
      Ohtori_Choutarou, Shishido_Ryou, Akutagawa_Jirou, Atobe_Keigo, Hyoutei_
      (Team)
  Stats:
      Published: 2005-09-18 Completed: 2005-10-30 Chapters: 21/21 Words: 92153
****** Jealousy ******
by Miko
Summary
     Sometimes you don't appreciate the value of what you've got, until
     you don't have it any more.
***** Chapter 1 *****
The first real indication Shishido had that anything was up was less of a clue,
and more of a whack to the back of the head by a clue-by-four. When Hiyoshi
cornered him just after class one afternoon to demand to know why he'd lost his
best doubles player, Shishido just stared at him for a long moment in
incomprehension.
"The fuck are you on about?" he finally asked the scowling junior. "The seniors
retired a month ago. And what the hell do you expect me to do about it anyway?
If Atobe couldn't convince the school board to let us all keep playing, nobody
can."
The scowl turned into a look of genuine surprise. "You mean you don't know?"
Hiyoshi said, now seeming more curious than anything. "I thought you of all
people..."
"If you don't start making sense in the next thirty seconds, I'm going to try
smacking you to see if that resets your brain," Shishido threatened the younger
boy, rolling his eyes.
"You really don't know." Hiyoshi gave him a measuring look. Before Shishido
could move to carry out his threat he was totally derailed by the junior's next
words. "Ohtori resigned this morning. Just showed up, handed over his jacket
and resignation letter, and left before I got a chance to talk to him."
Gaping in utter shock, Shishido just stared at him, unable to form coherent
words. Finally he managed to prod his brain into working again. "Choutarou...
quit the team?" The very words sounded funny in his mouth, like he was speaking
a foreign language. It certainly wasn't making any sense to him. "But... did he
lose his spot on the regulars?" Surely Ohtori would have mentioned being
defeated in the rankings...
Hiyoshi shook his head. "We've got ranking matches coming up next week, and
he's been having trouble deciding who to play with as his new partner, but he
wasn't in any danger of losing his place. The only explanation he gave in the
letter was 'time conflicts', and I haven't been able to corner him. So I
thought I'd ask you." His surprise that Shishido didn't know what was going on
was no less than the senior's own.
"I'll talk to him," Shishido promised, feeling like he was in shock. His mind
whirled as he tried to think. It was Friday, so there was no afternoon tennis
practice; where would Ohtori be? Oh, right. "He's got orchestra rehearsal
today, I'll catch him as he comes out of it. There's... there's gotta be some
kind of reasonable explanation for this."
Hiyoshi nodded shortly. "I want him back," the new Hyoutei captain said
bluntly. "Our doubles pairs aren't nearly as strong this year as they were last
year. I need him. Tell him I haven't passed his resignation on to Kantoku yet,
so he's got until Monday to change his mind."
With that the junior turned and stalked off, leaving Shishido utterly confused
behind him.
What the hell is going on? Shishido shifted the weight of his bag to his other
hand, and turned to head for the music wing. Granted, he hadn't seen much of
his former partner over the last month since the seniors had retired; the
stress of studying for the ascension exams had begun to set in for everyone in
their third year. Without the regular practices pulling them together, and
being in different years, he and Ohtori simply didn't run across each other
very often. Shishido had been intending to call the younger boy, really he had.
He'd just been so busy, and it always seemed like there'd be plenty of time to
get around to it eventually.
The music department wasn't exactly familiar territory, but he'd been there a
few times before, either waiting for Ohtori or accompanying him while he
dropped by to get something. He knew the orchestra practices were held in the
auditorium, so they'd be accustomed to the acoustics when they played in
concert.
Or so Ohtori had told him; it was mostly gibberish to him.
He did know that the Hyoutei music department was one of the best equipped in
Tokyo, if not Japan. This was not terribly surprising; Atobe might not be
involved in music, but he'd only paid for half of the renovations to Hyoutei's
tennis club. The rest had been paid for by their coach - who also happened to
be the head of the music department.
That had made it much easier for Ohtori to be involved in both tennis and
music. Since Sakaki had to be present for both practices, there were no
conflicts between the two clubs. Unless Ohtori had somehow done the impossible
and picked up a third club, he shouldn't have been having any time conflicts as
he'd claimed in his letter.
Knowing he was going to have at least an hour to wait before the orchestra
practice let out, but not wanting to go elsewhere and risk missing his friend,
Shishido slipped into the back of the auditorium as quietly as he could. He
settled into a shadowed corner in the back, prepared to wait. He'd done it a
few times before, when he and Ohtori had made plans for after the practice and
it hadn't seemed worth it for Shishido to go home only to have to turn around
and come back.
It wasn't like it was a hardship to sit there. Shishido didn't know much about
music, but the Hyoutei orchestra was good, even when they were just running
through the same passage over and over again in an attempt to perfect it. They
were doing something that seemed to focus on the interplay between the violin
and piano, with the rest of the orchestra providing background accentuation. To
his delight, but not really his surprise, he saw that the person playing the
main violin line was Ohtori.
Looks like he finally got that first chair spot he's been lusting after, he
thought, shifting in his seat with a proud grin. Sakaki, in the conductor's
spot, was stopping and starting them, having them play the same thing with
different interpretations of the passage. Even with the stop-and-go playing,
Ohtori looked like he was totally absorbed in the music, putting his heart and
soul into it. Shishido watched, and more importantly, he listened. Despite his
lack of knowledge in this area, it was clear to him that Ohtori more than
deserved the solo.
Well, duet. He had to admit the pianist was fairly impressive as well. A
slender boy with dark green hair as long as Shishido's had once been, the other
musician was just as into his music as Ohtori. It was, Shishido reflected as he
listened to the melodies intertwine, kind of like playing doubles. There was
the same dependence on the other player, the same need to trust that your
partner would be where he was supposed to be.
When Sakaki finally relented on the minute dissection of the duet passage, he
had the orchestra go back and play through the piece from start to finish. It
wasn't perfect yet; even the Hyoutei orchestra needed practice to master a
piece of this complexity. But it was good enough to sweep Shishido away on the
swell of music, totally absorbing him in it.
He was almost startled when it ended, the violin and piano being the last to
fade out of the song. He was startled when Sakaki clapped his hands sharply,
and everyone started putting away their instruments and music. It couldn't have
been a whole hour already, could it?
Sakaki had called Ohtori over the piano, and as Shishido stood to make his way
to the front he could see his former partner frowning in concentration as
Sakaki plainly gave the two boys further instructions. The expression brought
back memories; Ohtori got the same intent look on his face when they were
learning a new combination play or formation, or when he was about to smash his
scud serve over the net and totally blow their opponents away.
"...practice on your own," Sakaki was saying as Shishido came within hearing
range. He stayed outside of the orchestra pit to avoid interrupting, and none
of the three saw him as he approached, too focused on each other. "As I've said
before, Ohtori, Amano, you are the lynchpins for this performance. You will
have to stretch yourselves a great deal to rise to the challenge, but I expect
great things from both of you." At a chorus of soft agreement from both boys,
Sakaki nodded in satisfaction. "Dismissed. I'll see you both tomorrow for the
solo practice."
Ohtori turned and said something more to the pianist, too low for Shishido to
hear him from this distance. The green-haired boy grinned and said something
back that made Ohtori laugh brightly. Shishido's lips quirked at the sound. He
hadn't realized how much he'd missed the sound of that laughter. Yeah, he was
definitely going to have to make an effort to call his former partner more
often.
Then Ohtori lifted the hand not holding his violin and bow, and ran it briefly
through the pianist's hair. It was a casual touch, nothing particularly
intimate even for two boys, but Shishido felt oddly stunned at the sight of it.
Hell, it wasn't like Ohtori didn't touch him like that at every bloody
opportunity. It had put Shishido off at first, but he'd kind of gotten used to
it. There was just something... he couldn't have said for the life of him what
it was exactly, but something about seeing him do it with someone else troubled
him.
It took him a few moments to recover, and by then Ohtori had turned back
towards his own seat, clearly intending to put his instrument away and pack up
to go. Shishido moved forward to put himself more plainly into sight, and
called out to get the younger boy's attention. "Yo, Choutarou!"
For the briefest of moments it seemed like Ohtori... froze. The tension in his
back and shoulders might have been missed by someone who didn't know him well,
but not by Shishido. Not after everything they'd been through together,
everything they'd been to each other.
Then the tension was gone, sliding away into simple surprise as Ohtori turned
to face him, and Shishido almost wondered if he'd imagined it. "Shishido-san!"
Ohtori exclaimed, smiling at him. "What are you doing here? Did you sneak into
the practice again?"
"Yeah, well, not like Kantoku can give me laps if he catches me at it now, can
he?" Shishido retorted, making Ohtori's smile widen. "I was waiting for you."
"Waiting for me?" Ohtori looked puzzled now. "Why... oh. Hiyoshi talked to you,
didn't he?" The smile slipped a bit as a wary look entered Ohtori's eyes, and
the taller boy sighed. "I guess I should have expected that. I'm sorry, that
must have been a little confusing for you."
Shishido jumped down into the pit as the younger boy moved to finish putting
his violin away, standing over him as Ohtori fussed with the instrument in an
obvious attempt to avoid meeting the senior's eyes. "Confusing? Totally
shocking is more like it," Shishido said dryly. "Is it true, Choutarou? Did you
really quit the team?"
Sighing, Ohtori gave up the attempt to avoid his eyes and looked up at him,
sitting on his chair. "Yes, it's true. I had to make a choice. Sakaki-sensei
said he couldn't give me the first chair if I remained in both clubs, because
of all the extra practice it was going to require."
Damn. Shishido winced slightly. He'd sometimes wondered, in the depths of his
mind, what would happen if Ohtori were ever forced to make a choice between the
two great passions in his life. Apparently he had the answer now.
Interpreting his expression correctly, Ohtori hastened to reassure him. "It's
not like I'm giving up tennis, Shishido-san! I'm just not playing in the club.
When it comes down to it... I'm not synching very well with any of the others
willing to play doubles. And I don't like playing singles, you know that. My
strengths lie in doubles. Even if I didn't end up eventually losing my spot on
the regulars, I wouldn't be playing nearly as well next season as you and I did
together this season." The junior shrugged. "I got to go to Nationals this
season, with you. Now I want to do something just as important, in music."
Well, when he put it that way, the decision didn't seem so bad. Shishido could
even sympathize; he wasn't quite sure what he was going to do when he got to
high school and started playing again, before Ohtori joined him. He'd figured
he'd probably go back to singles for the duration, because he just couldn't
imagine himself playing doubles with anyone but Ohtori.
"Hiyoshi's really irritated to be losing his best doubles player, you know," he
said, and Ohtori laughed.
"He'll survive," the junior shook his head. "Honestly, the team will probably
be better off this way. They'll be able to have two strongly bonded pairs
again, instead of me and whoever I ended up pairing with."
"But you're still practicing, right?" That came out a little more anxious than
Shishido had intended it to, and he bit his lip. "I mean, it'd suck if you let
yourself get out of condition. We should practice together. It'll be good for
both of us, and keep our combination strong." Pausing, he added in a rush,
"Hell, there's all kinds of non-school related tournaments we could enter, come
spring. It'd be good practice."
He was rewarded for the offer by another of Ohtori's bright smiles. "I'd like
that, Shishido-san. I've missed playing with you. Tennis just didn't feel the
same without you." His smile turned wry. "I kept expecting my new partners to
be able to anticipate me like you could, and it wasn't working out very well."
Once again Shishido felt vaguely guilty for not making more of an attempt to
keep in touch with the boy who was arguably his best friend. How had they
managed to fall so far out of synch in just one month? Not that they'd ever
spent a lot of time together outside of tennis, but they'd spent a great deal
of time together regardless.
He's got my phone number too, he reminded himself, trying to break the feeling
of guilt. We've both been busy. But it's not too late to fix that.
"You want to go play street tennis?" he offered impulsively. "It's Friday, I
can put off studying for one night. We can go to the court near my place so I
can grab my racquet. Or we could just practice here, since the courts are free,
if you want to lend me one of yours and a spare jersey and shorts."
Ohtori looked stricken. "I can't, Shishido-san. I..."
"Hey, Choutarou, you almost ready to go?" The slightly impatient voice came
from behind them, and Shishido turned in surprise. The dark-haired pianist was
waiting at the edge of the orchestra pit, holding his music folder in one hand
while he absently fiddled with a lock of his hair in the other. "If we don't
get moving, by the time we're done dinner it'll be too late to practice without
disturbing my parents."
"Almost, Kazuya," Ohtori placated him, and gave an apologetic smile to Shishido
as he stood and scooped up his things. "I'm really sorry, Shishido-san. We've
got a lot of work to do on this piece, and his mother's expecting us both for
dinner. But call me some time, we'll go out and play."
Once again stunned, this time at being so easily brushed off, Shishido just
stood and watched as Ohtori hurried up the steps out of the pit to join the
other musician without so much as a last wave over his shoulder at his former
partner. The green haired boy reached out and touched his arm briefly as he
drew near, and murmured something that made Ohtori laugh again.
And then they were gone, leaving Shishido standing there in the empty
auditorium, feeling like he'd been smacked in the face with a dead fish. What
the hell just happened?
He couldn't remember Ohtori ever, ever turning down an invitation to go out and
play, or even just to go hang out and talk about tennis. Shishido had found
out, somewhat to his chagrin, that Ohtori's grades had slipped a bit during the
summer term because he always chose time with Shishido over studying. That was
another reason he hadn't wanted to be so demanding on the junior's time now
that they weren't playing.
Being brushed off like that didn't sit well with Shishido at all. There was
something else there too, something that was bothering him. He didn't know what
it was, couldn't put his finger on any of it, but the entire encounter left a
bad taste in his mouth. He scowled in the direction the two boys had gone.
Obviously, he was going to have to sit Ohtori down and have a long talk with
him.
***** Chapter 2 *****
It wasn't until several days later that Shishido finally figured out exactly
what had been bothering him so much about Friday's encounter. "He called him
Kazuya," he blurted out as he was blindsided by the realization. He stared at
the textbook he'd been (supposedly) studying from, the conversation replaying
itself in his mind. Sakaki had definitely referred to the green-haired boy as
'Amano', and Kazuya was a given name. Ohtori, who still called Shishido '-san',
let alone the rest of his teammates, had called the boy by his given name.
"Uh..." The hesitant sound from his left drew his attention away from the book.
He blinked as he saw that Atobe and Jirou were both staring at him, nonplussed.
"Are you sure you're reading from the same book we are, Shishido?" Jirou asked,
confused. "There aren't any characters named Kazuya in this one."
Flushing, Shishido shook his head. "Never mind," he muttered hastily, returning
his attention to the book. They'd met at Atobe's to study, as they often did.
It was just more comfortable there, where the servants would bring them snacks
and drinks, and they had more than enough space to sprawl out over the desks.
Scowling at the book, he struggled to remember if he'd ever heard Ohtori call
anyone by given name. He definitely called Hiyoshi by his family name, though
he had left off any honourific since they were in the same year. What about the
rest of the music people? He'd heard his partner talking to them before, hadn't
he? Did Ohtori call any of them by given name?
He couldn't remember for sure, but he didn't think so. And as far as he was
aware, he was the only one allowed to call Ohtori 'Choutarou'. So who was this
Amano guy, that he was close enough to Ohtori to have that kind of familiarity
with him?
An old childhood friend, maybe? Shishido couldn't recall Ohtori ever having
mentioned him before. Granted, they'd never really talked much about anything
but tennis, but still. He knew Ohtori had an older sister and that his dad was
a lawyer; he'd even met the younger boy's family a few times when he'd gone
over to Ohtori's for one reason or another. The same was true in reverse. Why
wouldn't Ohtori have ever mentioned a friend he was that close to? For that
matter, when would he have spent time with the other boy, considering the way
Shishido had selfishly monopolized all his time last term?
"...Ryou!" The sound of his name made him snap his head up, and he found Atobe
half-glaring at him in exasperation. Behind their former captain, Jirou had his
head propped on his hand, but was still awake and looking at Shishido in a
bemused way.
"What?" he snapped back, feeling oddly on the defensive. Atobe never called him
by given name unless he was trying to be either particularly friendly or
chewing him out for something, and Shishido wasn't sure what he'd have done to
deserve either.
"I called you three times and you still didn't answer," Atobe informed him,
raising an eyebrow at him. "I don't know what that hapless textbook did to
offend you so, but you're going to burn a hole in it if you keep glaring at it
that way."
"What's up, Shishido?" Jirou added, obviously concerned about his friend.
"You've been out of sorts since Friday. I could tell even when I was half
asleep."
Sighing, Shishido flung himself back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes. "It's
nothing, guys. Sorry I'm being so distracted. I found out on Friday that
Choutarou quit the team, and it threw me for a loop."
There was stunned silence from the other side of the table for a long moment,
which made him feel a little better. At least he wasn't the only one who'd been
shocked silly by the discovery. "I trust he had good reason for doing something
like that?" Atobe finally drawled, regaining his composure faster than the
blatantly gaping Jirou.
"He said Sakaki wouldn't give him the first chair in the orchestra unless he
dropped tennis because it was going to mean a lot more practice," Shishido
explained wearily. "And that, since he'd gone to Nationals with us last season,
he wanted to do something equally important in music this year."
"But why didn't you know before?" Jirou asked, eyes wide. "I mean, you said you
just found out on Friday. Didn't you guys talk about it before he decided?"
"I haven't..." Shishido flushed again, once more feeling guilty. "We haven't
really spoken much lately. Well, hell, I've been here studying with you guys
most nights, you know that."
Atobe and Jirou exchanged a look that felt significant somehow to Shishido, but
he couldn't interpret it. "When was the last time you spoke to Ohtori, then?"
Atobe wanted to know. "Surely this wasn't a decision he made on only a few
days' thought. He's more serious than that."
The flush deepened. "I, uh... we haven't seen each other since, uh... since
just after we retired from the club." When the two of them stared at him again
in disbelief, he got defensive. "I've been busy, damn it! It's only been one
bloody month, and it's not like he's gone out of his way to see me either. But
I talked to him on Friday, we're gonna go out and play street tennis sometime
soon."
He couldn't help but be uneasy as he said it, though. He had called, as Ohtori
had suggested, early on Sunday morning. His former partner had sounded
relatively glad to hear from him, but had begged off the game, saying he had
prior plans. Which was certainly fair enough... except half a day of warning
had never been too little in the past. Hell, ten minutes of warning was usually
sufficient, as either of them would drop whatever they were doing if the other
suggested they meet for a match.
And Ohtori had hung up before Shishido could arrange another time, later in the
week. Shishido still had a bad taste in his mouth from the whole encounter, but
he'd just reminded himself that Ohtori had probably already been busy with
whatever it was that was eating up his afternoon. Which, come to think of it,
he hadn't said just what he was doing, had he?
Shaking his head, Shishido glared back at his two best friends. "It's not a big
deal, guys," he defended himself. "Honestly. Just a lack of communication.
Why're you so worried, anyway?"
"Friendships can die from neglect," Atobe reminded him archly. "Even one as
close as yours with Ohtori. Take care that doesn't happen, it would be a shame
to break up a partnership as strong as yours."
"Geez, you'd think we had a fight or something," Shishido muttered, brushing
off the words of warning with a queasy feeling in his stomach. We've just been
busy.Bothof us, damn it. It's still no more my fault than his. "Can we get back
to studying now?"
The conversation stayed with him as he walked home later that night, however.
Atobe's words about friendships and neglect kept ringing in his ears, making
him want to bang his head against something solid to drive them out. Jirou's
last words to him as they'd parted at the sleepy boy's door were also eating at
him.
"Ohtori-kun really looks up to you, you know," Jirou had said, looking at him
with an expression that was oddly neither sleepy nor excited. It had been
almost serious, an emotion Shishido wasn't used to seeing from the other boy.
"Be careful you don't make him think you're too busy for him, okay? You could
really hurt him."
"I'm not too busy for him!" he'd protested. Indeed, it seemed as if the very
opposite were true. "And I already said I'll call him. You worry too much,
Jirou. Go inside and get to bed before you fall asleep on the stairs or
something." Jirou had yawned and grinned at him before vanishing inside his
house, leaving Shishido to continue the rest of the way to his place alone.
Now as he walked, he found himself brooding on it all until it was nearly
driving him crazy. Growling to himself, he pulled out his cell phone and
checked the time. It was kind of late, but he knew Ohtori tended to stay up
late doing his homework because of all the time he put into practicing his
violin and tennis. If he called the younger boy's cell instead of his home
line, he shouldn't disturb his parents. And he could get this settled once and
for all.
He punched the first button on his phone, which would speed-dial Ohtori's cell.
Listening to it ring, he kicked a rock absently down the sidewalk in front of
him. He was just starting to wonder if maybe Ohtori had left his phone
somewhere when it was finally picked up.
"Shishido-san?" the familiar smooth voice came over the line, and Shishido's
scowl melted away. "It's not like you to call me so late. Is something wrong?"
"Choutarou." He kicked the rock again, grinning now. "Sorry, I know it's late.
Hope I didn't wake you. How'd you know it was me, anyway?"
"I've got my phone set to a different ring if the call is from your number,"
Ohtori informed him with a laugh. "Haven't you noticed I always know it's you?
And you didn't wake me. I was just surprised, you're usually getting ready for
bed now."
It was funny, Shishido reflected as he kicked the rock again, how well they
knew each other's schedules. They'd only worked together for a few months,
really, but Shishido sometimes felt like Ohtori knew him better than even Atobe
or Jirou, who'd been his friends since they were all little. He was fairly
certain they had no idea what time he typically went to bed.
"I was studying at Atobe's and decided to walk home," he said. "Figured the
fresh air would help clear my head, or I'll be dreaming about variables doing
the waltz with chemical formulae, or some shit like that." Ohtori chuckled, and
the sound made Shishido's smile widen. "Listen, you seemed busy last time I
called, so I didn't get a chance to ask. You want to get together this weekend?
We can hit the street courts, make sure we're not getting rusty."
"This weekend?" Ohtori sounded a bit surprised, but pleased. "Um, just a
second..." There was a soft sound, as if he'd covered the phone with his hand,
and then Shishido heard his muffled voice asking someone else, "Do we have
anything planned this weekend?"
He missed the rock on his next kick, and nearly overbalanced himself as well.
Pausing on the sidewalk, he scowled at the innocent rock, his grin vanished as
quickly as it came. Since when did Ohtori have to check with anyone about his
weekend plans? His family were pretty big on 'family time', sure, but not that
big on it. But who else would Ohtori need to check with?
"Shishido-san?" Ohtori was back, and Shishido wrenched his mind back on track.
"Saturday's not really any good, Kazuya reminded me we're supposed to be going
to a concert Sakaki-sensei recommended to us. Is Sunday okay?"
Amano again? Shishido didn't realize he was grinding his teeth until his jaw
started to ache faintly. The pianist was there with Ohtori, at this hour?
"Sunday's fine," he forced himself to say casually. Honestly, what was his
problem? It was good to know Ohtori had other friends. He was a friendly guy,
who thrived on affection from the people he cared about. Of course he had other
close friends besides Shishido. "You guys must be practicing pretty hard for
that piece, huh? You're usually doing homework by now, not music."
"Oh, we are doing homework," Ohtori assured him. "We're in the same class, so
it just seemed easier to bring my books to his place so we could study after we
practiced." There was the sound of laughter in the background, and a muffled
voice saying something Shishido couldn't make out. "No, I'm almost done,"
Ohtori assured the person on his end, who could only be Amano. "I should go,
Shishido-san, it's late and we need to get these math problems done. I'll meet
you Sunday at the courts by your place? One o'clock?"
Shishido had been planning to suggest they get together early, play all morning
and go out for lunch together, and then maybe just hang out and catch up for
the afternoon. A bit nonplussed, he tried not to grind his teeth again. "Yeah,
sure, sounds good," he said. "I'll see you then."
"Okay, see you then!" Ohtori agreed. And then Shishido was listening to the
beeping of the dial tone. He blinked, bringing the phone down to stare at it,
wondering if the signal had cut off somehow. It showed five bars, full signal,
and he wouldn't have gotten a dial tone anyway if that had happened. But... had
Ohtori just hung up on him? Again?
The discussion had been more or less over, he had to acknowledge as he stabbed
the button to end the call. It was just... Ohtori was never so abrupt about
ending phone calls. He was too polite, for one thing, and for another, their
conversations had always tended to drag out long after they probably should
have hung up. Somehow one or the other of them always seemed to come up with
something more to say, even if it was mostly inconsequential.
Shaking his head, he forced himself to start walking again. He was reading too
much into all this. So what if Ohtori was over at that kid's place? Like he'd
said, it made more sense for him to study there, and if Amano was a pianist,
presumably they needed to be at his place because he had a piano. They didn't
tend to be as portable as violins.
And so what if Ohtori called Amano by given name, even though he'd persisted in
calling his partner 'Shishido-san' no matter how many times Shishido said it
was okay for him to call him Ryou? Ohtori had always been polite, and it would
naturally be harder for him to call a senpai by given name than it would be for
a classmate. He and Hiyoshi just weren't close enough for that kind of
relationship, and Shishido had never seen Ohtori much around other juniors. For
all he knew, the younger boy called all his classmates by given name.
Scowling, he went to kick the rock again, and realized he'd left it behind. Of
course Ohtori had ended the call quickly; it would have been rude of him to
draw the conversation out when he was a guest in the other boy's house. He'd
probably been over there on Sunday the last time he'd called, too, which
explained why he'd ended that conversation quickly as well.
Somehow, that thought made Shishido more upset, not less. Snarling, he found
another rock and kicked it much harder than he had the other one. It made a
satisfying smack against a lamppost, and fragmented into several pieces. What
the hell was his problem, anyway? Why was this even bothering him so much?
Ohtori had agreed to play with him on Sunday, and that was the important thing,
right?
Before he quite realized what he was doing, he had his phone on again and had
hit the second speed dial button. This one was picked up much more quickly, by
an equally familiar but deeper voice. "Did you forget something, Shishido?"
"Why does everyone know it's me?" Shishido demanded, momentarily sidetracked.
"Do you have me set up with a different ring too?"
"Of course I do," Atobe sounded amused. "Everyone on my speed dial has their
own ring, it makes things so much simpler. I don't have to waste time looking
at the display to decide if I want to answer the call or not. Don't you?"
Disgruntled, Shishido rolled his eyes. "No, because I'm not an organizational
freak like you and Choutarou, apparently. I just always answer my phone!"
"Ah, so you spoke to Ohtori?" Atobe sounded oddly pleased. "Good. Did you get
things sorted out with him?"
"Yeah," Shishido replied, though he was scowling again. Had he? Wasn't that why
he was calling Atobe, to get his friend's perspective on the whole mess? "I
guess so. We're gonna go play next Sunday."
"So why are you calling me?" Atobe wanted to know. "Did you want Jirou and I to
come along so you'll have someone worth playing?"
That wasn't a half bad idea. Unless they really lucked out, the competition at
the street courts didn't tend to really be worth the effort. Though Shishido
felt oddly like... like he didn't want to share Ohtori with anyone. He'd had
enough trouble getting the younger boy away from this friend of his, he didn't
want his partner's attention divided any further.
 
Except that was ridiculous, because having Atobe and Jirou around wouldn't be
dividing Ohtori's attention, it would just give them someone worth playing. "If
you can," Shishido agreed. "Can you ask Jirou later? I'm sure he's asleep by
now, no point in waking him up."
"I'll do that," Atobe agreed, sounding amused. "Was there anything else?"
Shishido hesitated. What could he say? 'Choutarou's got a new friend, and he's
ignoring me?' It sounded so bloody childish, like a five-year-old who's been
told he must share his favourite toy and is sulking as a result. He'd sort of
wanted Atobe's insight into the whole matter, since his friend was good at
getting to the root of things like that. Only Shishido was afraid the 'root' of
the matter would end up being Atobe laughing at him for this sudden, ridiculous
insecurity.
"No, that was all," he said, mouth twisting on the words. "I'll see you at
school tomorrow."
This time when he hung up his phone, he wasn't upset or angry. Just feeling
oddly weighted down, as if something was pressing hard on his chest and making
it difficult to breathe. I'm being stupid, he chided himself harshly. Of course
he's got other friends now. The only reason he spent all his time with me
before is because we were in the middle of the tournaments, and every minute
counted. Everything'll be fine on Sunday.
***** Chapter 3 *****
Jirou's words about Ohtori thinking Shishido didn't have time for him had been
eating at him all week, so Shishido made it a point to show up at the courts
well in advance of the arranged time. Ohtori almost always beat him to any
meeting they'd agreed upon, he was just more organized than Shishido that way.
The senior hoped that by arriving early for once, he would be showing his
partner that he was in no way too busy for the other boy.
He warmed up by playing a couple of the kids who were always hanging around the
street courts. They were no match for him, even two on one, so he found his
mind once again turning to the whole issue with Ohtori.
After a lot of thought, he'd finally acknowledged that Atobe might just have
been right about their friendship suffering from neglect. And even if that was
just as much Ohtori's fault as his, that didn't mean Shishido couldn't be the
one to put a stop to it.
So when Ohtori appeared with racquet bag in hand, a good ten minutes before one
o'clock, he was obviously surprised to see his partner already there and
playing. "Shishido-san!" he called, just after Shishido had spotted him
approaching. "You're early!"
"Be right with you, Choutarou," Shishido called, and grinned at the two
freshmen facing him across the net. "Last shot, guys, then I've got a game to
play. Try and get it past me."
It was no contest, and after a short rally he lobbed the ball over both their
heads and landed it solidly on the line. "Not bad, but you're a hundred years
too early to beat me!" he laughed at the boys. "Keep practicing."
"You're good at motivating people to play better, when you're not busy trying
to prove how far above them you are," Ohtori teased him gently as he walked off
the courts. "How come you beat me here?" Despite the cool fall weather, the
younger boy was already in his shorts and jersey, his lucky silver cross
glinting at his throat. Shishido felt lighter just at the sight of him.
"I feel like I've hardly seen you lately," Shishido shrugged, slinging his
racquet over his shoulder. Ohtori blinked at him, and he elaborated, "I just
wanted to get as much out of today as I could, that's all. Sorry I've been so
busy lately."
That made Ohtori's soft smile appear again, making Shishido feel oddly warmer
despite the way the wind was chilling the sweat on his skin. "It's okay,
Shishido-san," Ohtori asserted softly. "I know being in third year means most
of your time is eaten up with studying. I don't mind, really."
Despite his words, Shishido was sure he saw some subtle form of tension leave
Ohtori's shoulders as he spoke. Or maybe 'hurt' was a better word for it. Had
Ohtori been feeling neglected by Shishido? The older boy frowned slightly.
Well, why the hell hadn't the big idiot just called him, then?
Whatever, it didn't really matter now. Ohtori seemed to have forgiven him for
whatever slight he'd unintentionally made. Shishido would just have to be
careful not to do it again. He'd forgotten how sensitive his partner could be,
that was all.
"Let's warm up," Shishido suggested, after grabbing a quick drink from his
water bottle. "I want to see if I can still return that damn serve of yours.
Can't let myself get slow, after all."
Something glittered deep in Ohtori's eyes: a familiar combination of amusement
and competitive spirit. "Better watch out," the junior warned as he fished his
racquet and a can of balls out of his bag. "My scud serve has only gotten
faster. And I have been practicing, unlike certain lazy senpai I could
mention."
Shishido laughed, the familiar banter making his steps feel light as he ran for
the baseline on the far side. "Bring it on!" he called over the net. "Give it
your best shot, I'm not afraid of your serve anymore."
Brave words, but the truth was he still flinched slightly any time he had to
face that killer serve. His body remembered the pain of impact, even though he
was fast enough now to be able to catch the ball with his racquet instead of
his face. And Ohtori hadn't lied; Shishido could detect a noticeable increase
in the speed of the serve as it slammed over the net towards him.
He was more out of practice than he'd thought; he barely managed to catch the
first serve on his racquet, and missed the sweet spot by a good inch or two.
Ohtori took that point easily, and the next one. By the third serve, however,
Shishido was starting to get his stride back, and he returned it cleanly and
ended up taking the point.
After that, it was as if it had been only days since their last match instead
of weeks. They talked over the net, trading teasing threats and insults, all
the while laughing in a way Shishido never did with anyone else. It felt a bit
like coming home, and Shishido savoured the sensation. He could tell Ohtori was
reveling in it as well, as the younger boy's smile grew wider and his movements
looser as they continued to play.
The score was 4-2 in Ohtori's favour, and he'd just blasted a scud serve across
the net that Shishido was sure had left scorch marks on his strings when he
returned it, when a familiar voice piped up from the direction of the stairs
down to street level. "Whoa, Atobe! Did you see that! Ohtori-kun, how fast was
that, have you broken two hundred yet?" Jirou scampered up like the human
bouncy-ball he was when awake and excited, hopping from foot to foot at the
side of the court. "I want to play! C'mon, Ohtori, let me try to return it!"
"Jirou-san?" Ohtori let Shishido's return go by him, standing and staring at
their friend and former teammate. "What are you doing here? And Atobe-san?" he
added, even more confused as Atobe appeared at the top of the stairs as well.
"What do you mean?" Jirou stopped hopping, and tilted his head curiously at the
younger boy. "Shishido invited us. I'm really glad, it's been way too long
since we played!"
"He did?" Ohtori cast a look at Shishido that was not quite a frown, but his
eyes were dark with some unreadable emotion. The expression made Shishido feel
like he'd swallowed a lead weight somewhere along the way. "Oh, I... that's
great, Jirou-san, Atobe-san, I've missed playing with you both as well."
Except for the initial hesitation, which Shishido wasn't even sure anyone else
had caught, Ohtori's words were genuine enough. He definitely seemed happy to
see his former teammates, laughing as Jirou raced to Shishido's side of the net
in anticipation of returning Ohtori's infamous scud serve. Yet somehow Shishido
felt as if he'd made some kind of major blunder along the way, and he didn't
know what it was.
It took him a few minutes, as he and Atobe warmed up together on another court
while Ohtori fired serves at an excited Jirou, but he finally realized why he
felt that his partner was suddenly upset with him. As soon as he'd heard that
Jirou and Atobe had been invited by Shishido, he'd... just stopped looking at
him. Or rather, stopped meeting Shishido's eyes, even when he was looking right
at him.
It was understated, not nearly as obvious as the way he'd brushed Shishido off
the week before in the auditorium, or those two times on the phone. But it was
still there, a subtle snub that rubbed Shishido entirely the wrong way. What
the fuck is going on? he wondered, his attention more on what Ohtori and Jirou
were doing than his own rally with Atobe.
He only realized what a mistake his inattention was when a smashed ball from
Atobe caught the end of his racquet, sending it flying out of his hand as the
other senior wound up for the second half of his 'Hametsu e no Rondo'. "That
was entirely too easy," Atobe declared, even as he hit the ball the second time
to send it whizzing past Shishido for the point. As his friend landed, Shishido
just shook his head. "You're not paying attention in the least, Shishido.
What's going on?"
"Fuck if I know," Shishido muttered, stalking over to retrieve his racquet.
Honestly, he hadn't fallen for Atobe's signature move in a long time. Hell, he
was one of the people Atobe had developed the bloody thing on, he ought to know
the signs of it well enough to avoid it by now! He really hadn't been paying
attention. "Everything was going just fine, and then he froze up on me."
"Aan?" Atobe glanced back and forth between Shishido and his partner on the
other court, raising his fingers to the side of his face briefly as he studied
them. Shishido grunted and turned his back on his former captain. He hated it
when Atobe used his 'Insight' on him; the other boy really was uncannily good
at seeing past the surface to the truths you'd rather remained hidden. "Ah, I
see," Atobe said after a moment. "You didn't tell him we'd be coming, did you?"
"I haven't even talked to him since I invited him to play in the first place,"
Shishido snapped back, though he kept his voice low enough not to reach their
other two friends. "But what the hell difference does it make? It's not the
first time you guys've joined us for a practice match. It's a lot more
interesting to play you than the pretenders that hang around here most
weekends."
"If it weren't that I know you so well, I'd suspect you of being purposely
dense," Atobe retorted, shaking his head as he dropped his hand away from his
face again. "How do you manage to make every possible wrong move if you don't
know what they are?"
"What the hell are you on about now?" Shishido demanded, unsettled. Wrong move
for what? They weren't talking about tennis, he was sure of that much. What the
hell was Atobe accusing him of now?
"Nothing," his friend sighed, and clapped him briefly on the shoulder. "Let's
rejoin them, shall we, and see what we can salvage of the situation."
"Atobe!" Jirou had looked over, and realized that Shishido and Atobe weren't
playing any more. "Atobe, can we play a match now? Ohtori's serve has gotten
even faster, did you see?" He laughed in delight. "I can't return it yet. Let's
play doubles!"
Trust Jirou to be so excited about a tennis move he hadn't managed to beat yet.
Well, Shishido supposed he could hardly blame him. Tennis was boring more often
than not for Jirou; even at his best in singles, Shishido hadn't been able to
defeat his friend except on rare occasions. Only Atobe had ever been able to
consistently beat Jirou, so small wonder the singles two player half slept
through most of his matches.
That was in singles, though. Doubles was another matter entirely. Shishido
grinned as he moved to join Ohtori on the other side of the court. Not even
Atobe and Jirou could beat Shishido and Ohtori in combination. They'd been
Hyoutei's doubles one pair for a very good reason. The best thing that had ever
happened to Shishido had been Sakaki assigning him to play with Ohtori; he'd
never have known that his real place in tennis was in doubles, otherwise.
"Australian formation?" he murmured as he approached the taller boy. "Or a
double net play? It's been a while since we faced them."
"Jirou-san is too good at net play," Ohtori replied, frowning in concentration.
He still wasn't meeting Shishido's eyes, but that could have been as much
because he was studying their opponents across the net as anything else. He
always got more serious and focused just before a game, as Shishido knew from
experience. "And we don't want to give Atobe-san any opportunities to use his
Rondo. Let's stick with Australian."
"Right." Shishido clapped Ohtori on the shoulder and brushed his hand over the
lucky necklace the boy wore, as he always did right before they played. It had
started out as a way of grounding himself, a physical reminder that he wasn't
going to be alone on the courts and couldn't play like he was, but it had
turned into just a simple sort of 'got your back' assurance between them.
He waited for Ohtori to reach out and flick the brim of his cap, the second
half of their ritual; 'remember why you're here', which had become 'together we
can do the impossible'. He didn't know quite when or how the changes in
meanings had happened, or even how he was so sure of what the gestures meant
now, since they'd certainly never said anything about it aloud. With
synchronization as strong as theirs had become, maybe they just didn't need to
say the words for them to be understood.
The shock when Ohtori simply nodded and walked away, therefore, was almost
palpable. Shishido stood staring after his partner as the younger boy took his
place at the baseline. He was totally floored, half certain he'd just somehow
missed the feel of that strong hand tugging at his cap. "Are we going to play
or not?" Atobe called across the net, raising an amused eyebrow at Shishido.
Jirou was also giving him a curious look, and Ohtori...
Ohtori still wasn't looking at him, his gaze focused on the ground at his feet
as he bounced the ball a couple of times in preparation for serving.
Flustered, Shishido scrambled to take his place up at the net, trying to
convince himself it didn't mean anything. It was just a stupid little
superstitious habit, it wasn't like it actually had any bearing on their game.
Maybe Ohtori thought they'd grown past the need for the reminders, or maybe
it'd been long enough since they'd played that the younger boy had forgotten
about it. Hells, maybe it just hadn't ever meant what Shishido thought it had,
and the 'ritual' had all been in his head anyway.
The last thought stuck in his throat and made it oddly hard to breathe as the
first scud serve screamed by him onto Atobe's side of the court. He gripped his
racquet a little tighter to remind himself to focus, and threw himself into the
first rally.
It was immediately obvious that Shishido and Ohtori were off their game today.
Shishido had kind of been assuming that they would just slide right back
together again as if they'd never stopped playing, but obviously the month
apart had more of an effect than he'd thought it would. It wasn't as bad as it
had been when they'd first started practicing as a pair, because Shishido had
learned a lot about the differences between singles play and doubles. But it
was as if they were both good doubles players who'd been unexpectedly assigned
an unfamiliar partner; they weren't reading each other at all.
After the third time they'd both moved the same way and left half the court
wide open for Atobe and Jirou to score a point, Shishido approached his partner
as they moved around the net for the change court. "What the hell, Choutarou?"
he demanded, staring at his partner. "What's with us today?"
"Lack of practice, I expect," Ohtori replied, a bit more tartly than Shishido
would have expected. He reeled back slightly, stung by the implied rebuke in
the words. "Maybe we should forget about the fancy formations and just stick
with the basics until we can predict each other a little better again."
"Yeah, I guess so," Shishido agreed slowly. Ohtori still wasn't meeting his
eyes, so he couldn't read the emotions behind his partner's words. Ohtori was
very good at keeping a neutral expression, but his eyes always gave him away.
"Choutarou, are you angry with me?" he blurted out, still trying to figure out
why his partner was so upset.
"Of course not, Shishido-san." Was it his imagination, or were the words a
little too stiff? "Come on, let's play, it's their serve."
The rest of the game was no less a mess than the first part had been, though at
least once they stopped using the more advanced formations the holes in their
defence stopped being quite so large. They were still out of synch, with none
of the easy co-operation and anticipation that had become their signature. For
the first time since they'd felt confident enough in their combination to play
another pair in a match, they lost the set. It was still close, 7-5 for Atobe
and Jirou, but it was a loss. Shishido had forgotten how bad it felt to lose,
even in a non-important game like this one.
"That was horrible," Atobe declared as they all headed for their water bottles
after Jirou took the last point. "If you two expect to have any hope of playing
together again in tournaments, you'd better start practicing together more
often again. Your combination has clearly suffered for your lack of attention
to it."
They both murmured abashed agreement to that. Shishido sighed, and mopped the
worst of the sweat out of his hair with his towel. Atobe was right, they'd just
have to practice more often. They had lots of time before the tennis season
officially started again to get their game back in shape. Not to mention their
friendship, which had clearly gone off track somewhere along the line.
Before he could speak up to suggest another practice date to Ohtori, an
unfamiliar voice piped up from outside the fenced courts, "I thought you said
you were good at this game, Choutarou. I may not know anything about tennis,
but even I could tell that was awful."
Shishido was facing the wrong way to see the speaker, but he certainly saw the
way Ohtori's glum expression suddenly lightened with a gleaming smile. He knew
who it had to be even before his partner exclaimed happily, "Kazuya! What are
you doing here?"
Wondering why the sight of that smile left such a bad taste in his mouth,
Shishido turned. Sure enough, the long-haired pianist was leaning up against
the fence, a teasing light in his eyes as he looked at Ohtori. "I wanted to see
this game you keep raving so much about," Amano replied, smiling slightly. He
seemed like a naturally reserved person, but his genuine affection for
Shishido's partner was obvious.
"Who's this, Ohtori-kun?" Jirou asked curiously, looking at the pianist with
half-lidded eyes. Now that the adrenalin rush of the game was passing, the
former singles player was clearly starting to get sleepy again.
"Ah..." Embarrassed at his lack of manners, Ohtori laughed softly. "Kazuya,
this is Atobe Keigo, our captain last year; Akutagawa Jirou, former singles
two; and my doubles partner Shishido Ryou. Everyone, this is Amano Kazuya, the
pianist for the Hyoutei orchestra. He transferred in from Midoriyama this term,
he's really talented. Sakaki-sensei wrote the music we're working on now to
showcase him."
"Us, you mean," Amano corrected him, the smile quirking his lips increasing
slightly. "Don't be so modest, Choutarou. If I hadn't come along, you'd
probably have a solo instead of a duet." He tilted his head in a bow towards
the rest of them. "It's good to finally meet some of the people Choutarou talks
about so much."
A transfer student? Shishido was startled enough that he almost forgot to
murmur a polite greeting in return. Well, that explained why he'd never heard
Ohtori mention the kid before. But if he'd only started at Hyoutei this term,
how the hell had he gotten so close to Ohtori that the reserved and eternally
polite junior was already calling him by given name?
"Ohtori is a Hyoutei Regular, of course he's talented at whatever he puts his
mind to," Atobe said loftily, inclining his head in greeting to the junior.
"I'm sure you'll both be stunning at the concert this year. We'll have to make
a point to attend it."
"I'm not a Regular any more, Atobe-san," Ohtori pointed out with a laugh. "I
quit the team, didn't you hear? But it will be a good concert, you should all
come."
"Speaking of being good," Amano flicked a wry glance at Ohtori. "You want to go
grab some dinner and then come over to my place? If we don't get that passage
right by tomorrow morning, Sakaki-sensei is going to string us both up."
"No, he'll just forget which practice he's at and start assigning laps," Ohtori
chuckled as the bottom dropped out of Shishido's stomach. "Sure, that sounds
good. Let me just get my stuff." Turning, the tall junior smiled at the three
seniors. "Thanks for coming out to play with me, guys. We should definitely do
this regularly, or we'll all end up losing our edge."
Numb, Shishido watched as Ohtori hastily gathered everything into his racquet
bag. To protest now that he'd been planning to treat Ohtori to dinner as an
apology of sorts for neglecting him seemed, well, kind of childish. If Ohtori
had work to do, of course he had to go, not goof around with his former senpai.
And why should it matter that Ohtori didn't seem the least bit regretful that
he couldn't stick around longer? They didn't always go out together after a
game. There'd be plenty of time to hang out once this stupid concert was out of
the way, right?
He didn't realize he was still standing there like an idiot as Ohtori walked to
the door of the fence and out to join his friend, until a heavy hand landed on
his shoulder and startled him. Jerking away from the unexpected touch, Shishido
found Atobe looking at him with an expression of amused disgust. Behind him
Jirou looked sleepily sympathetic - sympathetic to what, Shishido wasn't sure.
"Come on, Ryou," Atobe sighed, squeezing his shoulder briefly before releasing
him to start gathering his own things. "I'll take you both to dinner. Maybe
then you'll stop looking like you just saw the sun set in the wrong direction."
***** Chapter 4 *****
The look on Atobe's face as the senior regarded the club sandwich in front of
him with disdain was almost enough to break Shishido out of his funk. He'd
expected Atobe to drag them both to some upscale cafe or restaurant, but
instead their former captain had actually lowered himself enough to bring them
to Shishido's favourite restaurant, a little diner not far from his house that
served the best cheese sandwiches he'd ever had.
That the hole-in-the-wall dive didn't even come close to Atobe's exacting
standards went without saying, and Jirou had been snickering at the look on
their wealthy friend's face since they'd ordered. Shishido, on the other hand,
was mostly just touched by the unexpected gesture. Atobe was so bloody self-
centered most of the time; it was these rare moments when he went out of his
way for a friend that reminded Shishido of just why he was still so close to
the arrogant ass.
Despite the fact that Atobe had lowered himself enough to treat Shishido to his
favourite, the dash specialist was only picking at his own sandwich. The edges
of the bread were all frayed and tattered, but none of it has actually made its
way into his mouth yet. He couldn't get his mind off the utter disaster the
afternoon had turned into, and it was eating at him from the inside out.
"What'd I do wrong?" he finally blurted out, interrupting Atobe's irritated
contemplation of his food. The other boy blinked and raised an eyebrow at him,
and Shishido elaborated. "You said before that I was doing everything wrong.
What'd I do? Why'm I the only one who can't seem to figure out what Choutarou's
problem is? And don't just sit there and trade significant looks with each
other," he added, getting mad as his two friends did just that. "You keep doing
that. What the fuck, guys? Who handed out the rulebook and why didn't I get a
copy?"
"You really need to sort this out with Ohtori directly, Shishido," Atobe said,
shaking his head. "After all, Jirou and I can't do more than hypothesize, and
we could be mistaken." His tone said that he doubted it, but wasn't willing to
divulge more than that. Shishido growled in frustration and turned to Jirou.
His other friend blinked at him sleepily. "Atobe's right, Shishido," the
smaller boy said, shrugging. "We're not the ones you need to be asking. Ohtori-
kun is."
"If I could fucking well pin him down for ten minutes, I would!" Shishido
snarled, beyond frustrated with the whole damn situation. "He won't talk to me,
damn it! It seemed like things were finally started to get back to normal just
before you guys showed up today, but then he froze up on me again." He bit his
lip, trying to hide just how much the whole thing bothered him. "I mean, what
the hell? One minute he's laughing and joking with me and it feels like we
never stopped playing, and the next he won't even look at me!"
"You asked for our opinion, and we've given it to you," Atobe informed him,
somewhat imperious but not entirely without sympathy. "Honestly, Shishido," he
added, shaking his head, "No friendship is perfect, or without problems. You
and Ohtori have had it far too easy, at least as far as your relationship with
each other went. So, now you've hit your first major problem. Does he mean so
little to you that you're going to give up without a fight?"
Shishido glared at him, unable to even put his fury at the very idea into
words. Give up? Him? He didn't even know the meaning of the words. He'd clawed
his way back onto the Regulars after being dropped, there was no way in hell he
was going to let a stupid fight with his best friend defeat him.
Even if he didn't have the first clue what the fuck they were fighting about.
"Remember your first big fight with Atobe?" Jirou put in suddenly, grinning at
them both. "I thought you guys were going to kill each other. Your mom was so
mad at you for coming home with a black eye and bloody nose, remember
Shishido?"
"Yeah," Shishido had to snort at the memory, amused despite himself. "I gave as
good as I got, though... I seem to recall Atobe lisping past a split lip for a
week." He smirked at their former captain, who rolled his eyes.
"I thought you were asleep during that fight?" Atobe asked Jirou. "You
certainly never said anything about it at the time. I don't even recall, what
were we fighting over?"
"You called Shishido's family 'peasants'," Jirou supplied promptly. "And he
called you a spoiled little rich brat. I can't remember who said what first,
though, and I don't know exactly what started it. I was half asleep, I only
woke up when you started yelling at each other. But I didn't want to get
involved."
"Probably smart," Shishido had to acknowledge. Gods, he hadn't thought about
those days in forever. They'd been, what... six, seven years old? There'd never
been a more mismatched trio of friends, but despite the frequent spats between
him and Atobe, they'd remained close over the years. "I remember my first fight
with you, too, Jirou," he added with a grin. "I was so mad that I couldn't get
you to wake up for a match with me, that I dumped cold water over you the next
time I found you asleep. You didn't speak to me for days."
"You ruined my favourite pillow!" Jirou complained, but he was laughing too.
Talking about these memories was slowly making the knot in Shishido's stomach
dissolve. Atobe was right - no friendship lasted forever without running into
problems. The important part was getting past the spats, just like he had with
Atobe and Jirou. He could do it with Ohtori, too, and their friendship would be
that much stronger for it.
"I remember that," Atobe was smiling nostalgically as well. "You kept making me
repeat everything Shishido said to you as if you couldn't hear it, and you'd
whisper at me so I'd have to relay your words to him. Finally I started mis-
repeating things on purpose, just to force you to speak to him directly."
Jirou gave Atobe an exaggerated sleepy pout, and Shishido laughed at them both.
When he glanced down at his plate, he was surprised to realize he was halfway
through the sandwich, and feeling hungry again. "Thanks, guys," he said,
flushing slightly with embarrassment.
"Your determination to never give up has served you well in the past, Ryou,"
Atobe told him with a hint of a smirk, "but the stubbornness that accompanies
the determination can also be your downfall."
"Sometimes you just need us to push you out of the rut your thinking is stuck
in," Jirou said with a yawn and a grin. "What're friends for?"
That made Shishido laugh again. Jirou had a way of cutting straight to the
heart of things, and somehow he was able to say things that would get Shishido
mad if it had come from anyone else. "All right, so now that I'm not stuck in a
rut any more... what the fuck do I do? I can't figure out what's going through
his head if I can't get him to talk to me, and I don't have anybody to start
mis-repeating things to make him talk to me."
"You said you've tried calling him," Atobe gave up poking at his own dinner and
leaned back in his chair, one arm draped casually over the back of it. "Have
you tried cornering him somewhere? After his music practice, perhaps?"
The growl that escaped Shishido surprised even him, a little. He shifted in his
seat, uncomfortable with the memory. "That's what started this whole mess. I
finally went looking for him after Hiyoshi told me he'd quit the team, and I...
what?" Atobe had made an exasperated noise, and Jirou had smacked his forehead
before slumping over to rest his head on his arms on the table.
"The first time you went looking for him was because he'd quit the team?" Atobe
shook his head, rolling his eyes at Shishido. "Honestly. Never mind, keep
going. Why couldn't you talk to him at the practice? For that matter, why are
you having trouble talking to him on the phone?"
"Because I can't get him away from bloody Amano, that's why," Shishido snarled,
eyes narrowing at the memory. "They're always together, doing homework or
practicing for that damn concert. Everywhere he goes, the fucking pianist is
right behind him!" he realized his voice was rising when other people in the
diner started turning to look at him, and slumped back in his seat with another
growl.
Was it possible to hate someone at first sight? There was just something about
Amano that put Shishido's hackles up, and he didn't like the fact that Ohtori
was spending so much time with the other junior. And he'd had the oddest
feeling, though Amano certainly hadn't said or done anything to indicate so,
that the pianist didn't much like Shishido either.
"Like today," he continued, lowering his voice but gesturing emphatically as he
warmed to the topic. "I wanted to take him out for dinner, you know, catch up
with him. Spend some time with just the two of us, like we used to. I didn't
really realize it because I've been so busy, but now that I've noticed it, I
miss him, damn it." Admitting that was hard, it sounded so stupidly sappy...
after all, it had only been a month, right? Shishido just didn't do sappy. Not
even in front of Atobe and Jirou.
Actually, maybe especially not in front of his two closest friends. They'd
probably take the opportunity to tease him about it for months.
"Did you tell Ohtori-kun you were planning to do that?" Jirou asked, his words
somewhat muffled by the fact that only his sleepy eyes and bright mop of hair
were visible above his arms. "Or that you missed him?"
"Well, no, I..." Why did that suddenly make him feel kinda guilty? "I didn't
say anything. We just always went out after practice, why would this have been
any different? I mean, hell, not like I make specific plans like that with you
guys, do I?"
"Next time, I suggest planning it out with him ahead of time," Atobe said
dryly. "And not inviting us to play with you. If I'd realized how seriously
wrong things were going between the two of you, I'd never have agreed to come.
Really, Shishido, sometimes you don't have the social skills the gods gave a
weasel."
"Rabid weasel," was Jirou's snickering addition, which made Shishido pick up
his water glass and make as if he was about to toss the contents onto his
sleepy friend.
"With my luck, next time I ask him to play he'll invite bloody Amano to come
watch again," Shishido muttered sourly as he set the glass down again. "And
it's not like I can say 'no, don't bring your damn friend', now can I?"
"Invite him to your birthday party!" Jirou sat up abruptly, beaming like he'd
just offered the solution to all of Shishido's problems. "It's your party, and
you don't know Amano, so it'd be rude of Ohtori-kun to bring him along."
Actually, that would have been a good idea, except... "I'm not having a party,
I hate birthdays, you know that," he reminded his stupidly grinning friend. "I
haven't had a birthday party since I was ten and finally put my foot down with
my parents. They're a pain in the ass." He hated having people fussing over him
and making a big deal of him like that... it was one thing to have people
admiring him for, say, his skill at tennis, but it was just dumb for people to
get so excited over the day someone happened to be born.
"Too much of a pain in the ass to be worth a chance to talk to Ohtori away from
his new friend?" Atobe asked, arching a brow at him. Shishido scowled. Well,
when he put it like that...
"I guess it's not such a bad idea," he conceded grudgingly. "Hell, my birthday
is next week, though! I don't have time to put together a party. And you are
not organizing it," he cut off the suggestion Atobe was obviously about to make
with a shudder. "Fuck it. If it's just you guys and Choutarou, that's not such
a big deal to organize."
"Invite the rest of the team," Jirou promptly interjected. "Or else it'll be
just like today. But if you keep it to the team, then he definitely won't bring
Amano."
"All right," Shishido agreed, though he wasn't sure what difference having the
others there would make. And it would be harder to get Ohtori alone with that
many people around, wouldn't it? But following his own instincts hadn't gotten
him anywhere except apparently into more hot water, so he'd take his friends'
suggestions for now. "We can watch a movie, or something."
From there the conversation turned to ideas for things they could all do and
still keep it low key, and then on to other, unrelated topics like school and
the game they'd played today. By the time they parted ways at the exit of the
diner, Shishido was feeling a whole lot better about everything. He headed
towards his house, wandering along the commercial district and just looking in
the windows, his steps lighter than they had been in days.
A flash of dark silver reflected in a window caught his eyes, and he turned
automatically to search for the source, even as he laughed at himself. Silver
didn't always equal 'Ohtori', but somehow catching a glimpse of that particular
colour always had him looking around for his partner.
He was more than a little surprised when his search ended across the street,
where a tall silver-haired boy and a smaller dark-haired one were walking along
the sidewalk. His heart skipped a beat, oddly, and he swallowed. It was Ohtori,
with Amano close at his side. Their heads were tilted towards each other, and
Ohtori was once again laughing at something his friend had said.
Shouldn't they have been back at Amano's, practicing? Well, they had said they
were going to grab dinner, and this was the area closest to those courts that
had half-decent restaurants. Maybe they'd just lingered over their food
talking, like he had with Atobe and Jirou. No big deal, right?
Ohtori reached out and flicked back a strand of dark green hair that had fallen
over Amano's face, and Shishido's heart spasmed again. How many times had
Ohtori done that to him, during those nightly practices back before he'd cut
his hair, before he'd won his spot as the junior's partner? It would have taken
torture to get him to admit it, but one of the things Shishido missed most
about his long hair was the way Ohtori's nimble musician's fingers would slide
briefly through the locks, pushing it away from his sweat-streaked face.
He realized he was growling under his breath again, and forced himself to stop.
It wasn't as if he had some kind of monopoly on Ohtori's touches. His partner
was a friendly, affectionate guy, and hell, he'd seen him touching Amano like
that before, at the orchestra practice.
Though come to think of it, the sight of it had hit him pretty hard then, too.
The breath seemed to freeze in his lungs for a long moment as he realized
something else - Ohtori hadn't touched him today. At all. It wasn't just the
fact that he hadn't completed their usual pre-game ritual, he hadn't so much as
brushed against Shishido in passing. What happened to the casual hand on his
shoulder, the brief touch at his wrist, to get his attention or maybe just for
the reassurance of the tactile contact? Sometimes it had seemed like Ohtori
couldn't go five minutes without touching him, and he'd certainly never gone an
entire match without doing it.
Without him even being conscious of having made a decision, his feet were
carrying him forward over the low rail separating the foot traffic from the
cars. The streets in this area were busy, but not so much that a fast person
couldn't dart through the traffic to the other side of the street if he was
careful. "Hey, Choutarou!" he called over the sound of the irritated honking
from the drivers behind him.
Obviously surprised, his partner turned around. "Shishido-san! You shouldn't
run across the street like that, you could get hurt!"
Amano just regarded him quietly, with a reserved expression. Perhaps it was
just politeness that kept him from interjecting in a conversation between his
friend and a person he didn't know well, but Shishido once again got the sense
that Amano didn't like him much. Maybe it was the closed look in his pale eyes
- they were silver, he realized incongruously, and they matched Ohtori's hair
almost exactly. Why did even that bother him?
"Sorry, Choutarou, I thought I'd lose you if I waited for the crosswalk,"
Shishido said unrepentantly, firmly turning his thoughts away from the pianist
and onto his partner where they belonged. "I was going to call you, but I saw
you and figured I'd just ask. I, uh, forgot at the game today... you're coming
to my birthday party, right?"
Well, that had come out sounding a bit more pleading than he'd have liked.
Shishido cleared his throat and took a casual pose, one hand tucked into his
pocket and the other holding his racquet bag strap over his shoulder.
Ohtori looked surprised. "Birthday party?" he repeated, blinking in confusion.
"But Shishido-san, I thought you said you hated birthday parties and never had
them?"
Oops, he'd forgotten he'd told his partner that. He shrugged awkwardly. "Yeah,
well... if I didn't have one myself, I have a sneaking suspicion Atobe was
going to do something. He's into that whole event planning kick this year, you
know."
That surprised a genuine snicker out of his partner. Ohtori covered his mouth
politely, but his brown eyes were dancing over his hand. "No, that wouldn't do
at all," the junior murmured when he'd recovered. "Knowing him, he'd probably
decide he needed to top what he did for Kabaji's birthday."
"Gods, don't remind me," Shishido groaned, and then they were both laughing.
Perhaps it was petty of him, but the confused look on Amano's face at the joke
he was excluded from made Shishido feel a bit better. "Yeah, so. It's just
gonna be the guys from the team, not a big deal. You'll be there, right?"
"It's this Thursday, right?" Ohtori asked, tilting his head, and Shishido felt
warmed by the fact that his partner had remembered the date without needing to
ask. "Of course I'll come. Sakaki-sensei has us doing solo practice every day
this week, but Hiyoshi and Kabaji have tennis too, so I'll just come over with
them after practice is done. All right?"
"Sounds good," Shishido confirmed, glad they at least had that settled. "And we
can talk then about times to meet and play, so we don't end up going so long
without seeing each other again, all right?" Ohtori's eyes widened slightly, as
if he was surprised by the offer, but he nodded and smiled.
"Yes, Shishido-san. We'll do that," the younger boy said, and the softness in
that smile warmed Shishido right down to his toes. Geez, was he coming down
with a fever or something? He'd never been so eager for the sight of Ohtori's
smiles before.
Then again, he'd never had to work so hard to get them before, either. Maybe
he'd been taking them for granted. "I guess you'd better get to your
practicing," Shishido said magnanimously, cocking his head at the two juniors.
"Nice to meet you, Amano. Good luck with the concert."
He watched them leave, and for some reason it seemed to him they were walking
just a bit farther apart than they had been before he'd caught up to them. He
shook his head - he was imagining things.
Some impulse made him call out, just before they were out of speaking range.
"Choutarou?" When his partner turned back once more, quizzically, Shishido
asked, "Why didn't you tug on my cap?"
There was a silent moment between them, and he saw Ohtori's eyes widen with
shock at his words. Shock, followed by darkness and an unexpected ache so deep
it left Shishido breathless. "Because," the younger boy said slowly, his voice
as heavy with sorrow as his eyes were. "I'm starting to think maybe some things
really are impossible."
With that he turned and was gone before Shishido could gather his thoughts
enough to reply. Somehow, as he stared after the two juniors, he didn't feel at
all comforted by the knowledge that he hadn't been imagining the hidden
meanings of their ritual.
***** Chapter 5 *****
The disadvantage of Ohtori arriving with the other second years, after
practice, was that it meant he was one of the last to get to Shishido's house.
The other seniors arrived much earlier, and of course Oshitari and Mukahi
promptly set about teasing the hell out of Shishido for finally submitting to
the indignity of a birthday party.
Atobe and Jirou, of course, knew the real reason for the 'party'. Shishido was
just grateful that his two oldest friends were refraining from teasing him as
well.
At least he'd convinced his family to clear out, after much begging and
pleading and threatening on his part. His parents had taken his grandmother out
for a nice dinner and a theater show, and his brother had gone over to a
friend's for the night. He'd even locked the dog in his bedroom, though he felt
a little guilty doing it. She was an old dog, though, and he wasn't sure she
could handle the excitement of so many new people in her space. She'd be okay.
By the time the juniors finally showed up, Shishido was about ready to kill
someone (preferably Mukahi) and seriously starting to wonder if this had been
such a hot idea after all. Surely it wouldn't have been that hard to corner
Ohtori somewhere else? Somewhere a bit more private?
The sound of the door buzzer was like a rescue from heaven. Shishido escaped
Mukahi's merciless teasing gratefully, all but bolting for the front door. His
family's apartment was small, but he couldn't remember it ever feeling tiny
before this.
Theoretically adding three more people shouldn't have helped his vague feeling
of claustrophobia, but his first glimpse of Ohtori's smile was like a breath of
fresh air. His smile no longer forced, he stepped back and invited the three
juniors in, accepting their murmured apologies for intruding with a nod.
"Geez, I thought you'd never get here," he muttered to his partner as the three
of them kicked off their shoes and put on the house slippers provided for
guests. "Remind me not to ever again voluntarily put myself into a confined
space with Mukahi, all right?"
Ohtori laughed softly. "Given the way the two of you were always sniping at
each other, I wouldn't have thought that would be something you'd need
reminding about, Shishido-san." Shishido couldn't help grinning back at him,
enjoying the sound of his familiar laughter.
Though he studied the younger boy as closely as he dared, Shishido could detect
no hint of that heavy weight of sorrow that had been in his partner's eyes the
last time they'd spoken. Nor was Ohtori avoiding his eyes anymore, and the
junior seemed relaxed and relatively happy as the four of them made their way
into the living room where the rest of the former regulars were.
Maybe he'd imagined it? Or hell, maybe Ohtori had just been having a bad day
for some reason. A bad week. Maybe the stress from the piece he was trying to
learn with Amano had been getting to him, and that was all it was. Whatever the
reason, Shishido was unaccountably relieved to have Ohtori smiling and talking
easily to him again.
After that, the party wasn't nearly as bad. Certainly nowhere near as
aggravating as Shishido had expected it to be. He'd made it clear to everyone
that there were to be no presents, nor anything as cheesy as a birthday cake.
Instead he'd ordered half a dozen different pizzas, and from somewhere Jirou
had produced a couple of the most dreadful movies Shishido had ever seen for
them to sit and poke fun at. The first was one of those 'underdog sports team
triumphs over all odds' movies - for tennis. The ridiculous and physically
impossible moves the players used had them all howling with laughter and
practically rolling on the floor.
By the time they took a break after the first movie to get snacks and chat for
a bit, Shishido was almost willing to admit that maybe the party hadn't been a
bad idea in and of itself. As much as Mukahi grated on his nerves and he'd
never been close to most of his teammates, it was good to have them all
together again. Maybe they'd have to arrange to have more of these get-
togethers, once a month or something. He was sure Atobe would be happy to
organize something like that.
There was only one thing marring his enjoyment of the night, and it wasn't
Mukahi's incessant teasing. Though he'd at first thought that things were back
to normal between him and Ohtori, there was something still off about the way
the younger boy was acting towards him. He'd sat on the other couch, next to
Jirou and Atobe, even though there'd been plenty of room beside Shishido. The
junior had spent more time catching up with Oshitari and Jirou and even Mukahi
than he had speaking to his partner, though he seemed happy enough to answer if
Shishido talked to him first. And not once during the night so far had Ohtori
so much as brushed against him, much less touched his shoulder or ruffled his
hair like he usually did.
It was driving Shishido crazy. Ohtori was being perfectly polite, even
friendly, but it just wasn't right. Shishido escaped into the kitchen with the
excuse of making popcorn, needing a few minutes to himself just to think.
Staring at the microwave as the popcorn bag slowly expanded, he tried to
organize his thoughts and figure out how to get Ohtori alone.
When he heard footsteps behind him on the tile, for a moment he thought maybe
he'd gotten lucky. If things had been normal, he'd have taken it for granted
that his partner would have followed him into the kitchen, but he hadn't known
what to expect with the way things were.
He knew even before he turned, though, that it wasn't Ohtori. For one thing,
he'd know his partner's gait anywhere, on or off the courts. For another, there
were two sets of footsteps, and one of them was sort of shuffling.
"Hey guys," he sighed as he turned to see Atobe leaning against the wall as
Jirou collapsed down into one of the kitchen chairs. "Don't fall asleep, Jirou,
you'll miss the zombie movie," he added to his sleepy friend.
Jirou just grinned and gave him a thumbs-up. "Not falling asleep yet," the
former singles player assured him. "Atobe's been keeping me awake. And I wanted
to see how things were going with you and Ohtori-kun."
Scowling at the reminder, Shishido turned back to watching the popcorn.
"Everything's fine," he said shortly, crossing his arms. "Though I don't have
the first clue how I'm going to get him alone. Remind me again why you guys
insisted I invite everyone?"
"You don't sound as though everything is 'fine'," Atobe pointed out, raising a
brow at him. "What's going on, Ryou?"
"Nothing!" Shishido insisted, tightening his arms a little. He fidgeted,
digging a toe into the crack between tiles, still scowling. "It's just... does
Choutarou's behaviour seem kinda off to you guys?"
"He seems fine to me," Jirou said around a yawn. "He even let me put my head on
his shoulder, he doesn't usually do that if he's upset at all. And he was
laughing at the movie with the rest of us."
"Yeah, but..." Shishido searched helplessly for words. How could he say that it
felt like Ohtori hadn't been paying enough attention to him, without sounding
like a brat spoiled enough to rival Atobe? "He isn't... he hasn't been..."
"Hasn't been hanging off your every word?" Atobe suggested archly, making Jirou
snicker softly. "Hasn't been taking every possible opportunity to be near you,
hasn't been following you around like a lost puppy begging for affection?"
Shishido bristled, at the other boy's tone as much as at his words.
"That's not what I meant!" Shishido snapped back heatedly, though he was
careful to keep his voice down so those in the living room wouldn't overhear
them. "He does not follow me around like a lost puppy! Hell, you make him sound
like a fangirl with a crush."
"I believe 'infatuation' might be a more accurate term," Atobe replied dryly.
"And while he certainly hasn't been puppy-like tonight, those are the words
most frequently chosen by other people to describe his behaviour towards you."
He shrugged elegantly. "If I had to hazard a guess as to the source of his
actions tonight, I'd say he's finally starting to get over you."
Dumbfounded, Shishido stared at him. "You're crazy," he said flatly. "Totally
certifiable. Choutarou does not have a crush on me!"
"Not any more," Jirou snickered. When Shishido's gaze snapped over to him, he
merely yawned and grinned. "Sorry Shishido, but it's true. He's treating you
more like a friend than a crush now."
That hadn't been the part that had made Shishido stare disbelievingly at Jirou.
"You're both nuts," he declared. "You've obviously been reading too much
shounen ai manga, or something. Choutarou and I have never been anything more
than friends and partners."
"Since it would take a blind man to have missed the way he looks at you, I can
only assume you're too deep in your own denial to see the obvious, even when it
hits you over the head." Atobe sighed and shook his head. "And you wonder why
Jirou and I refused to try to explain things to you before this. I told you
that you needed to figure it out for yourself."
"So why are you telling me now?" Shishido growled, trying to fight down the
uneasy feeling that was crawling up his throat. Atobe's famed 'Insight' had
failed him for once; they were both totally off base. There was no way in hell
Ohtori was like that, let alone felt that way about him.
"Because if he is actually getting over you, then we're not ruining his chances
anymore by smacking you with a cluebat," Jirou informed him cheerfully. "I'm
kinda sorry to see it, I think he'd have been good for you, but I suppose it's
just as well for him to get on with his life, if you're never gonna catch on."
"Don't take our word for it," Atobe shrugged. "Watch the way he treats everyone
else tonight. And by the way, your popcorn is burning."
It was indeed, Shishido realized. He spun and stabbed at the button to turn off
the microwave, swearing. If his hand was shaking a bit as he did it, it was
only because the very idea of Ohtori having a crush on him was so ridiculous it
was laughable.
He couldn't forget his friends' words, however, and when he finally came back
out into the main room with a couple of big bowls of popcorn, he found his eyes
continually drawn back to his partner. Ohtori was sitting on one end of the
couch, Atobe on the other, with Jirou sprawled out over both of them with his
usual disregard for personal space. Ohtori had permitted the sleepy boy to use
his lap as a pillow, but Shishido noted with some surprise that the younger man
wasn't running his fingers idly through Jirou's hair as he (normally) had on
the occasions when Shishido had put his lap to a similar purpose.
In fact, he realized as the second movie wore on, Ohtori wasn't touching
anybody. Shishido had always assumed that the casual touches Ohtori constantly
bestowed on him were just part of the way his partner interacted with people,
that he was a naturally touchy person. But if that was true, then Shishido
wasn't the only person Ohtori was physically avoiding now.
For a while he worried that it might be a sign that there was something really
wrong. All kinds of weird scenarios played through his head: Ohtori had some
weird kind of disease and didn't want to risk spreading it, or maybe the junior
had suddenly developed overly sensitive skin that made it painful to touch, or
maybe even something had happened to hurt the tall boy and make him skittish of
touch.
The last thought made him growl so loudly that Hiyoshi eyed him and asked if he
was okay, so he wrenched his mind off that train of thought. None of it was
realistic anyway. Thinking back on it, he couldn't actually remember ever
seeing his partner just casually touching anyone but him. And, he remembered
with an odd sinking feeling in his gut, it wasn't that Ohtori was refusing to
touch anyone. After all, Shishido had seen him touching Amano, and had even
thought to himself that it was a great deal like the way Ohtori usually touched
him.
Which, if he allowed himself to consider Atobe's ridiculous theory about the
reason for Ohtori's behaviour towards him, would imply that...
His stomach lurched, and he quickly buried that thought before it could finish
forming. If his partner was... was like that, Shishido didn't want to know
about it. He tried to be open-minded about that sort of thing - he was a tennis
player, after all, and he wasn't entirely ignorant of the fact that Oshitari
and Mukahi were a little closer than was strictly necessary to their
partnership - but it was a different matter entirely when it involved him.
Still, by the time the movie was done, he couldn't deny the conclusion that
Ohtori was treating him exactly like he was treating everyone else at the party
- like a good friend and former teammate, and nothing more. There was none of
the sense of closeness and partnership Shishido was used to, and certainly no
sign of the effortless synchronicity they'd once enjoyed.
"All right guys, time to call it a night," he announced, drawing groans and
protests from the rest of the room. Truth to tell, except for his preoccupation
with trying to decipher Ohtori's behaviour he'd been having a pretty damn good
time himself, and was a bit reluctant to have it end. "It's a school night," he
reminded all of them, suppressing a yawn. "And my parents will be home soon
with my grandmother. I have to clean up before I can sleep, I promised my mom."
One by one they stood and stretched, still laughing over the zombie humour of
the last movie. Shishido saw Jirou yawn and sit up, then lean over to whisper
something in Ohtori's ear. The younger boy looked surprised by his senpai's
words, whatever they were, but he nodded hesitantly. Sourly Shishido wondered
if it had something to do with Jirou and Atobe's stupid theory.
Most of the others made at least some token effort to help straighten the room
and deal with the trash, which Shishido was grateful for. Somewhat to his
surprise, Ohtori lingered, making no move towards the door as he helped clean
up. When he saw Shishido looking at him, he grinned sheepishly and asked, "Do
you mind if I say hi to Pochi before I go? I haven't seen her in a while."
"Pochi?" Mukahi echoed before Shishido could say anything. "You have a dog
named Pochi, Shishido? Geez, why not just name it 'Inu' while you're at it?"
"Shut up," Shishido growled, embarrassed. This was the other reason he'd shut
his pet up in his room. "I was three when I named her, all right? Give me a
break!" He shook his head, and shot a sideways glance at his partner. Ohtori
could have gone in to see his dog at any time during the night; there was no
reason for him to wait until everyone else was gone. If things had been normal
between them Shishido wouldn't have even thought twice about it; they'd often
remained together long after everyone else had left any team gatherings, just
hanging out and talking. But things weren't normal, and he wondered if it had
something to do with whatever Jirou had said.
Soon the others were gone, Atobe shooting Shishido an unreadable glance before
he left that was clearly some kind of warning. It might have been more
effective if Shishido had any idea what the warning was, but perhaps the
intended effect had been somewhat distorted by the mostly-asleep Jirou the
other boy had been supporting.
With the two of them working together, it didn't take them long to get the room
back into shape. Ohtori worked silently, once again not meeting Shishido's
eyes, and Shishido wondered what the hell he'd done to set the younger boy off
this time.
"What is it?" he finally asked, impatient with the pussyfooting around. Ohtori
wasn't usually coy, it wasn't in his personality. It certainly wasn't in
Shishido's personality to put up with it for long.
Big brown eyes blinked down at him as Ohtori straightened to his full height.
"Um. Actually, I hope you're not upset... I got you a present," the younger boy
confessed, the barest hint of a blush on his cheeks. "And, I really did want to
see Pochi," he added with a sheepish grin.
Surprised, Shishido laughed. "Why doesn't it surprise me that you're the one
who broke the 'no presents' rule?" he asked, some of the sick feeling in his
stomach settling. It was only nerves that had made Ohtori avoid his eyes this
time. "C'mon, my parents will be home any minute, you can give it to me in my
room and say hi to her at the same time."
Pochi was certainly happy to see Ohtori; she leapt up onto the younger boy,
tail wagging a mile a minute as she frisked like a much younger dog. Ohtori
knelt and patted her, laughing as she attempted to lick his face. Shishido just
leaned against the wall and watched them with a grin on his face. There was
something terribly cute about watching his best friend play with his dog, and
always had been.
When Pochi was finally satisfied with the attention, Ohtori stood and presented
Shishido with a wrapped gift; politely with both hands. For once Shishido
remembered his manners and took it the same way, flushing slightly as he
fumbled with the paper. It turned out to be a DVD of a movie based on one of
Shishido's favourite Greek myths; he stared at the box in shock. It wasn't
supposed to be released in Japan for almost a month, though it had been out in
America for a week now. The box was clearly Japanese, however, and the fine
print proclaimed it to have both a Japanese dub and subtitle option. "How...?"
"My father has some connections," Ohtori said with a small smile. "I remembered
you talking about how much you wanted to see this, and how mad you were that it
was going to take so long to come out here, so I thought I'd give you a head
start."
Shishido was a bit floored. Both that Ohtori had remembered a chance comment
he'd made in response to a poster they'd seen for the movie, and by the fact
that there was no way Ohtori had made the arrangements to get this since the
previous Sunday. "Thanks," he said, running his fingers over the box. Part of
him wanted to invite Ohtori to come over and watch it with him, as thanks, but
with the awkwardness that had grown between him he wasn't sure the invitation
would be welcome. It was a step beyond anything they'd ever done before, to
meet deliberately with no intention of doing anything related to tennis, and in
the wake of Atobe's earlier comments it felt weirdly to Shishido like he'd have
been asking for a date or something.
"Um." Ohtori sounded hesitant again, and maybe Shishido was imagining it but
there seemed to be a hint of disappointment as well. "I should probably go, I
guess. Thank you for inviting me, Shishido-san..."
"Wait," Shishido said, just a touch desperate. He didn't want to leave things
like this between them, didn't want to throw away this one chance he finally
had to really talk to Ohtori. When the younger boy paused and looked at him
curiously, he took a deep breath and tried to steady himself.
"Choutarou, won't you at least tell me what I did to upset you so much?" he
pleaded with his partner. There was a brief flash of the same sorrow he'd seen
in those deep brown eyes last weekend, before Ohtori lowered his eyes and
schooled his expression. "Hey, don't do that!" Shishido exclaimed, frustrated.
"Don't hide from me, damn it. You haven't been this closed off towards me since
I first asked you to help me train. What the hell is going on, Choutarou?"
A hint of white appeared as Ohtori bit at his lower lip, his eyes still turned
away. "Shishido-san," he finally said softly, "The truth is, it seemed to me
like, after the first time you asked me for help, it was always me who
initiated things between us." At Shishido's blank look, he sighed and raked a
hand through his hair. "It was always me who called you to go play, me who
suggested we stick together after team meetings or practices, me who cornered
you after classes to hang out. I kept telling myself that I was just imagining
it, but that's what it felt like."
"Choutarou..." Shishido started, bewildered. What the hell was his partner
talking about? It hadn't always been him who'd initiated contact between them,
had it? Shishido tried to think back, to remember times when he'd been the one
to suggest they go out or spend time together. Nothing came immediately to
mind, but surely that was just because no one incident stuck out in his mind?
And anyway, even if it was true, so what? It wasn't like Ohtori had been forced
to drag him kicking and screaming.
"No, let me finish," Ohtori asked, and Shishido sighed and nodded. "I suppose
it was probably childish of me," the junior continued doggedly, "but I wanted
some reassurance that it was all in my head. I decided to just stop. Not call
you, not look you up after class, not try to track you down at home."
Shishido felt his heart clench as his partner laughed, the sound
uncharacteristically bitter. "In all honesty, I didn't think it would take more
than a couple of days for me to hear from you," Ohtori admitted. "I was sure it
was just my imagination. But days went by, and I never saw you. I told myself
you were just busy with studying, and surely in a week or two you'd call me to
go play tennis."
"But I didn't," Shishido whispered, suddenly understanding why Atobe had been
so exasperated with him when he'd admitted that the only reason he'd finally
gone looking for Ohtori had been because of Hiyoshi telling him about his
partner quitting the club. How must that have looked to Ohtori?
"I... fucking hell, Choutarou, I'm sorry," he said miserably. "I really was
just busy, and I kept thinking that I shouldn't be monopolizing so much of your
time now that we didn't need to practice together constantly." He gave the
younger boy a helpless look. "I meant to call you, really I did. You know me, I
get focused on things and forget about everything else. Including things like
how long it's been since I last ate, let alone since the last time I called
you."
Finally Ohtori raised his eyes again, and Shishido saw burgeoning hope in the
younger boy's gaze. "So then... it really was just all a misunderstanding?" he
asked - more like 'pleaded'. "I thought... it seemed like things might be okay
last Sunday, but then Atobe-san and Jirou-san showed up and it felt kind of
like you hadn't wanted to be alone with me..."
"You big dumb idiot," Shishido exclaimed, half in exasperation and half in
affection. "If you'd stuck around long enough, I was going to invite you out to
dinner, just the two of us, to catch up. Atobe and Jirou were just kind of an
afterthought, to give us someone worth playing, that was all. I didn't even
really mean to invite them, it just kinda happened."
"Really?" There was a light in Ohtori's eyes that Shishido hadn't even realized
was missing until it returned. It made something clench low in his gut, and he
shivered, not sure he liked the sensation. "Shishido-san... I'm sorry. I
shouldn't have tested you like that."
"Can't say I really blame you," Shishido admitted wryly, trying to calm
himself. "If it'd been me in your position, I'd probably have just hunted you
down and cursed you out for ignoring me, but you always were too polite for
your own damn good."
That made Ohtori laugh, a light, delighted sound that made the twisting in
Shishido's stomach increase. A bit uncomfortable, Shishido tried to keep the
atmosphere light. "Anyway, things are okay between us now, right? We'll play
together on the weekends, or something, and get our game back in shape. And
kick the snot out of Jirou and Atobe next time we play them."
"Absolutely," Ohtori agreed, eyes sparkling. "I do still need to spend a lot of
time practicing, and you should be studying, but at least we're talking
properly again."
"You know what's funny?" Shishido commented, laughing softly himself. "Atobe
and Jirou had this whole elaborate theory about how you had an infatuation with
me, and that's why you treated me differently than everyone else. I guess they
thought you felt jilted, or something, and that's why you were brushing me off.
Can you believe it?"
He glanced up at his partner again, and his laughter caught in his throat. The
deer-in-headlights look in Ohtori's big brown eyes was not exactly doing
anything to disprove Atobe's theory. "Choutarou?" he asked hesitantly. "You
don't... I mean, it's not like you... right?"
Well, that hadn't exactly been his most coherent moment ever. Ohtori couldn't
seem to decide whether he wanted to blush furiously or let all the blood drain
out of his face, and the resulting expression should have been funny but
wasn't.
"I... Shishido-san, I..." Ohtori was floundering, and every second that passed
as he didn't deny it made Shishido's heart beat a little faster. There was just
no way. Surely there was no way Atobe had been right.
Finally Ohtori ducked his head, the blush winning out as he mumbled, "I... I
did kind of have a bit of a crush on you, I guess." Shishido felt like his
heart stopped briefly, before picking up in triple time, beating so fast it was
making him almost nauseous. Or maybe that was just shock. Ohtori was
continuing, oblivious to his partner's distress, "It's not like I ever would
have said anything. I didn't realize anyone had figured it out. But I guess...
I'm sort of glad you know."
He looked up with a hesitant smile, but Shishido must have been wearing his own
version of a deer-in-headlights look, because the smile faded quickly. "Um.
Shishido-san? Are you okay?" Ohtori asked, wide-eyed with worry.
Shishido just gaped at him, totally speechless. He couldn't believe Ohtori
actually felt that way, about him, let alone that the younger boy was admitting
it. He tried to process the idea. Ohtori had thought about kissing him... maybe
even doing other things with him? He supposed there was a certain allure of the
forbidden to it all, but you just weren't supposed to think about your best
friend like that, damn it! He wasn't supposed to have to wonder about just what
Ohtori might have fantasized about doing with him...
An inevitable thought struck him. He knew the physical needs of the teenaged
male body as well as anyone their age. Had Ohtori thought about him even
while... while... Shishido couldn't even manage to complete the thought. He
felt his own face flush, his ears burning as a shudder ran down his spine. This
was not happening, Ohtori was not confessing to him and he was so not
thinkingabouthispartnerjerkingoff in any context...
"I... I think it's getting late," he said, abruptly finding his voice again.
The shocked, hurt look in Ohtori's eyes was too painful to look at, so he
turned away, fussing with putting the DVD away with the others on his shelf.
His breathing was a little too fast, but he couldn't seem to slow it. "You
should probably go, before your parents think I've kidnapped you or something."
"Shishido-san?" Ohtori's voice sounded smaller than Shishido had ever heard it,
like he was a little kid or something. Or like Shishido was breaking his heart,
but he was trying not to think about that, damn it. "We're... we're still okay,
right? I mean... we just fixed this, we're going to start spending time
together again, right?"
"Yeah," Shishido assured him, but his voice was husky and he still couldn't
look at his partner. "Yeah, we're fine, Choutarou. I'm just tired, I hate
birthday parties and now I'm exhausted." He managed a twisted smile over his
shoulder in Ohtori's general direction. "The only reason I even had this damn
thing was because it seemed like it was my only chance of actually getting to
talk to you."
That seemed to reassure the younger boy somewhat, because Shishido saw him
offer a tentative smile in return. "You didn't have to do that, Shishido-san,"
he said, but he sounded pleased. "I guess I'll talk to you later, then? Maybe
we can go play this weekend again."
"Sounds good," Shishido agreed, turning to face him again. He had to shove his
hands in his pockets to hide the way they were shaking, but that was a normal
pose for him so hopefully Ohtori wouldn't think anything of it. "I'll call
you."
"All right," Ohtori nodded, his smile widening a bit. "You don't have to let me
out, Shishido-san, I can find my own way to the door. I'll see you soon." He
reached for the doorknob, but then hesitated long enough to add, "Happy
birthday, Shishido-san. Sleep well."
Then he was gone, and Shishido was able to draw a deep, almost sobbing breath.
He collapsed down onto his bed, staring at the door as he listened to his best
friend make his way out of the apartment. His thoughts were running around in
psychotic little circles, and he couldn't seem to focus on anything. Damn it,
what the hell was he supposed to do now?
***** Chapter 6 *****
This time, Shishido was actively avoiding Ohtori. He knew he was probably
destroying his chances of fixing the mess they'd made of their friendship, and
something inside him wanted to curl up and die at the very thought, but he just
couldn't face his partner until he'd gotten a handle on how he felt about the
whole thing.
The idea that Ohtori had a crush on him, once it really sank in, bothered
Shishido a lot more than he wanted to admit, even to himself. Apparently he
wasn't nearly as open-minded about that sort of thing as he'd thought he was.
Any time he started thinking about what sort of thoughts might have been going
through the younger boy's head when they were together, or remembered that
burning light of hope and a dream rekindled in his partner's eyes when they'd
finally decided the last month had just been one royal screw-up...
Granted, Ohtori had been talking about it in the past tense when he'd
confessed, and Atobe and Jirou had both said they thought the younger boy was
getting over it. It didn't seem to matter. Any time Shishido thought about
talking to the other boy - or worse, facing him - his mind just shut down in
shock and refused to process anything.
So he'd stopped answering his phone, letting his message service screen his
calls for him. He made sure he didn't go anywhere near Ohtori's class, and
stayed far away from the music wing. He knew it was the coward's way out, but
he just couldn't bring himself to face his partner and best friend while he was
in this state of mind.
The first message from Ohtori came the day after the party. It was long and
rambling, first asking if he wanted to play on the weekend and then going on to
chatter about inconsequentials until it abruptly cut off, past the time limit.
The second, immediately after, was a sheepish apology for babbling followed by
a reminder to call to arrange a time to meet.
It was so exactly like almost every other message his partner had ever left him
that it made Shishido smile through the pain in his chest as he deleted them.
Ohtori really had forgiven him; now it was up to Shishido to make the next
move, so their friendship could return to the way it had been. Unfortunately,
Shishido was nowhere near ready to make that move.
Two days later the third message came, a puzzled inquiry as to why Shishido
hadn't called and a joke about how the answering service must have deleted the
previous message for being too long. Only someone who knew Ohtori as well as
Shishido did would have been able to detect the worry and fear in the younger
boy's voice as he laughed. Shishido deleted that one, too, his hand shaking as
he hit the button.
The fourth was a text message, first thing Monday morning, asking if Shishido
was all right. He hid the phone under the edge of his desk and stared at it all
morning, unable to keep his eyes off the blinking cursor at the end and the
menu option that asked if he wanted to reply. He got in trouble twice with his
teachers for inattention, and received more than a few odd looks from Atobe,
but finally the phone's battery died and the screen went blank. When he got
home, he plugged it in and promptly deleted the text message.
When the fifth and final message arrived at the end of the week, at first he
thought it was a wrong number since it started with several seconds of dead
air. He was about to delete it when Ohtori finally spoke, a whispered
"Shishido-san... I'm sorry." His language was extremely formal and his voice
broke on the last syllable, before he hastily ended the call.
That message, Shishido kept.
He wasn't sure why he held on to that one when he'd deleted all the others. To
torture himself with, maybe, since he listened to it over and over all weekend.
Every time he listened his thumb hovered over the button to delete it, but he
couldn't bring himself to press it. The choked misery in his partner's voice
made Shishido feel like he couldn't draw enough air, and forcing himself to
listen seemed like the least he could do considering he was the one who'd made
Ohtori feel so bad in the first place.
The first time he caught himself thinking about his partner while jerking off,
after the third message, he lost it entirely. It hadn't even been an actively
sexual thought, just a vague sort of 'I wonder if Choutarou really did think
about me while he was doing this', but it was enough to send him bolting for a
very cold shower. He leaned against the tiled walls and let the frigid water
numb him, ignoring his mother knocking on the door and asking why he'd felt the
sudden need for a shower at midnight on a Sunday.
The water calmed him enough that he was able to look her in the eyes afterwards
and explain that he'd woken from a nightmare and needed to wash off the sweat.
She fussed over him a bit, but he brushed her off with the annoyance common to
all teenaged males with overly nurturing mothers, and escaped back to his room.
He saw his brother wink at him from the door to his room, and his face flamed
as he realized the older boy probably thought it had been a wet dream he'd
woken from, not a nightmare.
Even once he was safely back in his bed, he couldn't stop worrying at it in his
mind like Pochi with a bone. Thinking about Ohtori thinking about him was just
a little too close to thinking about Ohtori, period. He shoved the very idea
firmly out of his head, and swore to himself that he wasn't going to jerk off
again until he could be sure no weird thoughts like that would creep up on him
again. It didn't matter how many cold showers he had to take, or how frustrated
he got.
The worst part of it all was the dreams. Maybe because of the reason he was
denying himself, or maybe it was because he'd been spending so much time
obsessing over what Ohtori might or might not have fantasized about doing with
him, but Shishido's dreams took on a somewhat disturbing trend. Not that he
wasn't used to having erotic dreams of one kind or another; he was fifteen. But
now they had a tendency to feature Ohtori in some way, and that was freaking
him out more than all the rest of it combined.
By the time Monday came around again he was a nervous wreck, and his mother
took one look at him as he emerged from his room and ordered him straight back
to bed.
Shishido wasn't in the least loathe to stay home for the day. He'd been blowing
off his study sessions with Atobe and Jirou ever since the party, and he hadn't
gotten a single sentence done in his homework for the weekend. He knew he
should have been concerned about his grades, but at the moment he frankly
couldn't bring himself to care. The disaster his friendship with Ohtori had
become seemed far more important than preparing for ascension exams that were
still months away.
He managed to fall into a fitful sleep in the afternoon, and as a result when
his phone rang he was too groggy to remember why he shouldn't answer it right
away. Memory caught up to him even as he croaked out his name, and for a moment
his heart jumped into his throat, choking him. If it was Ohtori, what would he
do? Hang up on him? Make some excuse about being too sick to talk, and then
just turn the phone off and leave it off so he wouldn't forget again?
To his relief, it was Atobe's deep baritone on the other end of the line, not
Ohtori's soft tenor. "Shishido, what the hell is going on? Where were you this
weekend?"
"I'm sick, obviously, or I'd have been in school today," Shishido muttered,
rolling over onto his back. "And I was home all weekend, why?"
There was silence on the other end of the line, then Atobe sighed. "You forgot,
didn't you? How sick are you? Couldn't you at least have called to let me know
you weren't coming?"
"What, you guys couldn't study without me?" Shishido asked, bewildered. Atobe
sounded almost hurt, and that wasn't like his friend at all.
"You're an ass, Ryou," Atobe replied, and Shishido could almost hear him
rolling his eyes. "The party was this weekend. I can't believe you forgot."
Party. Atobe's party. Atobe's birthday. Which was only five days after his,
damn it. Cursing, Shishido sat up, holding his aching head in his hands. Atobe
had planned his party for the weekend after his birthday, and the invitations
had gone out a month ago. Shishido had completely and utterly forgotten.
"Fucking hell, Keigo, I'm sorry," he said miserably. "I just... it's been a
really bad week, and I'm not thinking straight. You probably wouldn't have
wanted me there anyway."
Come to think of it, maybe it was just as well he'd forgotten. Ohtori almost
certainly would have been invited, and there was no way Shishido could have
handled seeing him in the state of mind he was in. Though he would have at
least told Atobe ahead of time that he was sick, if he'd remembered.
"Did something happen between you and Ohtori?" Atobe demanded, and Shishido's
stomach lurched.
"Wh-why would you think that?" he asked, cursing the stammer for giving him
away. Atobe's 'Insight' didn't work as well if he couldn't read the person's
body language, but he'd known Shishido long enough to be able to pick up on
subtle nuances in his voice.
"Possibly because you've hardly said three words to me since your party, and
Ohtori begged off sick on Saturday as well," Atobe replied dryly. Something in
Shishido ached at the reminder that Ohtori was suffering because of his
inability to accept the fact that his partner was gay, but he shoved it down
again. Atobe was continuing, "Are you coming over tonight to study? You've got
a lot of catching up to do."
"What part of 'I'm sick' did you not understand?" Shishido snapped back,
irritated more at himself than his friend. "I'm not even sure I'll be up for
school tomorrow, either." The longer he could convince his mother to let him
stay home, the longer he could put off his inevitable encounter with Ohtori.
"If you're actually ill, I'll eat my racquet," Atobe snorted. "It's not like
you to run away from your problems, but it's your life to throw away. However,
I will not allow you to do poorly on your ascension exams. Not only would it
reflect badly on me as both your friend and former captain, but you know
perfectly well that if your incoming grades aren't high enough you won't be
permitted to join the high school tennis club."
Damn, Shishido had forgotten about that. "Fine, fine, I'll come over," he
capitulated with bad grace. "Don't blame me if I start throwing up on your
expensive carpets," he added just for a bit of revenge.
Unperturbed, Atobe simply said "I'll send one of my drivers to pick you up, if
you take the bus it will be far too late by the time you get here." Then he
hung up, leaving Shishido listening to the beep of the dial tone. Sighing, he
hauled himself out of bed and started searching for clean clothes and his
textbooks.
By the time he reached Atobe's mansion, he was grudgingly starting to admit
that getting up had probably been good for him. With his mind focused on all
the studying he was going to have to catch up on, instead of the problem with
Ohtori, he was starting to feel human again for the first time in days. He
nodded at the butler that let him into the huge house, and headed straight for
Atobe's study room with the familiarity of habit.
Raised voices made him pause as he reached the top of the winding staircase. He
couldn't hear what was being said through the thick door, but he approached
cautiously. He didn't think he'd ever heard Atobe actually shout at someone
outside of tennis practice, and while Jirou could certainly get loud when he
was excited, this definitely sounded angry.
He was tempted to just wait out in the hall until whatever was happening had
finished, but curiosity got the better of him. Turning to the next door down
the hall, which led to Atobe's entertainment room, he entered it and approached
the study from that direction. There was no door between these two rooms, and
he could see Jirou sitting at the table, looking supremely unhappy. He still
couldn't make out Atobe's words as the other boy murmured something vaguely
soothing, but the angry reply was loud and clear this time. And it wasn't Jirou
yelling, either.
"How could you do this to me?" Ohtori was almost hysterical, but Shishido had
no trouble recognizing that voice. He froze just outside the door, eyes wide
and heart pounding in his chest. Ohtori was here? Had Atobe set this up? It
wouldn't be unlike his friend to try to meddle, but if he had, Shishido was
going to chew him a new one. Just as soon as Ohtori finished yelling and left.
If he had his way, the younger boy would never know he was there.
"I thought you were my friends," the junior was continuing bitterly. "How could
you tell him? Don't you think if I'd wanted him to know I'd have told him
myself?"
"We didn't think it would hurt any more," Jirou replied, hunching down a bit in
his chair, his voice small and apologetic. "We thought you were getting over
him."
"I was!" Ohtori shouted back. Shishido pressed himself against the wall, a
little shocked. He'd never heard his partner lose his temper like this; had in
fact been starting to wonder if Ohtori really had any kind of temper to lose.
"I am! But what the hell difference does that make? I still didn't want him to
know about it!"
"Ohtori, you're over-reacting," Atobe said, and this time Shishido could hear
him. "If you'll just calm down for a moment and tell us what happened..."
"Over-reacting?" Ohtori's voice cracked on the last word, and he finally
stopped yelling. When he continued after a moment, however, Shishido almost
wished he would start again. The low, intensely furious voice the junior was
using now was somehow worse than hearing him yell. "I'll tell you what
happened. I stayed behind like you said I should, and we actually had managed
to fix things when he mentioned the 'insane theory' the two of you had told him
about."
Jirou flinched visibly and wilted a little further, and Shishido saw Atobe
reach out to brace the smaller boy's shoulder with one hand. Ohtori kept going,
oblivious or uncaring to how much he was hurting Jirou. "It caught me
completely by surprise, and by the time I recovered my wits it was too late to
try to deny it. So I admitted it, and he froze. Then he essentially told me to
get out, and he hasn't said one. Word. Since."
"I'm sorry," Jirou whispered, tears in his big brown eyes. "Ohtori-kun, I
really thought things would be okay! He was so miserable when you were avoiding
him, I thought maybe..."
Shishido cursed as his friend's eyes flickered over to him and paused, widening
as Jirou caught sight of him. He'd been leaning forward without realizing it,
trying to hear the soft apology, and Jirou had spotted him. Apparently
following his gaze and realizing who had to be there, Atobe called out wearily,
"Shishido, stop lurking in shadows and get in here. Maybe if we can get both of
you in one place long enough with a mediator, we'll be able to sort this out so
you two can stop slinking around like whipped puppies."
Heart beating far too fast in the answering silence, Shishido swallowed hard
and walked into the room. His hands were shaking, so he tucked one into his
pocket and wrapped the other a little tighter around the strap of his bag. He'd
told himself he wasn't going to look, but despite his best intentions, his gaze
went straight to Ohtori. "Choutarou," he said, trying for a casual greeting.
His voice broke on the word, though, and he winced.
For just a moment, Ohtori looked like utter hell. There were dark circles under
the tall boy's eyes, his hair was a bit mussed, and his eyes were red like he'd
been crying recently. The sight of it squeezed Shishido's heart so hard he
thought it might stop, and he caught his breath. Given one more second of
seeing his partner and best friend looking so devastated, Shishido would have
blurted out an apology, and gotten down on hands and knees if that was what it
took to get Ohtori to forgive him.
Before he could even open his mouth, however, Ohtori drew himself abruptly to
his full height and stared down at Shishido. All the passion and anger and hurt
fled the younger boy's eyes, and his features could have been carved from
purest glacier ice. Shishido had heard other students and even tennis club
members refer to his partner as the 'Ice Prince' on occasion. He'd often
wondered how the warm, friendly, affectionate junior could possibly have earned
such a nickname.
Now, seeing in person the way the air around Ohtori almost visibly dropped in
temperature in response to the tall boy's expression, Shishido didn't have to
wonder any more.
"Shishido-san." Though the words were perfectly polite and even cordial, the
tone was practically dripping frost. Shishido actually shivered, and saw Jirou
do the same. "I'm sorry, I was just leaving. I won't interrupt your study
time."
"Ohtori-kun," Jirou started hesitantly, but he was silenced instantly when that
glacial gaze turned briefly to him. The senior sank even farther down in his
chair, turning to huddle into Atobe's supporting hand. Even Atobe looked like
he wanted to say something, but didn't quite dare in the face of that chill.
Without another word Ohtori turned and left, his movements measured and
graceful, not the angry stalk Shishido had been half expecting. He even closed
the door gently, being careful not to slam it. For long moments after the sound
of the latch echoed in the room, there was utter silence.
Finally Atobe breathed out a long sigh, and leaned back in his chair. His hand
was absently rubbing Jirou's shoulder, as the smaller boy remained huddled in
on himself, but the storm-grey eyes were fixed on Shishido.
"Well. You certainly made a mess of that," Atobe said. "Have you really been
avoiding him since then? Is that why your phone always went to voicemail this
past week?"
All the confusion and anger and fear Shishido had been holding inside for days
exploded, with Atobe providing a convenient target. "What the fuck, Atobe? You
dropped a fucking bombshell in my lap, and you expected me to just take it and
smile? I needed to think about it, damn it! I've been avoiding him because I
didn't know if I could face him without freaking out on him!"
"Shishido, how could you?" Jirou turned big, wounded eyes on him, and Shishido
snarled back at him. "After that whole time when you were so upset that he
wasn't talking to you, how could you turn around and do the same thing to him?"
"Because I fucking well figured it was better than getting hysterical at him
for thinking about me that way, damn it," Shishido growled back. "And excuse
me, but what the fuck possessed you to try to set us up? I'm not fucking gay!"
"Nobody said you were," Atobe cut in tartly. "Stop yelling, Ryou. Jirou wasn't
trying to set you up, he just thought you were mature enough to handle the
truth, and that it would help the two of you sort things out if you weren't
hiding things from each other. Clearly, he was mistaken."
"It's not a matter of maturity, damn it!" Shishido protested, though he had a
sinking feeling that it probably was. "How would you feel if I just suddenly
confessed to you that I'd been thinking about you that way, huh?"
"I would be flattered, find out if you still felt that way and what I could do
to keep you from getting hurt, and assure you that our friendship was in no
danger because of it," Atobe shot back, eyes flashing. "And also reassure you
that I didn't think less of you for it. Do you think I haven't had boys confess
to me, Shishido? Frankly, I'm surprised Ohtori was the first one to ever tell
you, but I suppose you're considered somewhat less approachable than I am."
"It's not the same if it's some random guy who likes you, damn it," Shishido
snarled. "Ohtori is my partner. Who knows how much time he spent thinking about
me like that when we were together? It creeped me out, all right?"
"You could have just told him you needed time to think about it," Jirou
commented from his huddle, his voice small. "He'd have backed off and given you
the space you needed, but then when you were ready you'd have had your
friendship back again. But you hurt him, Shishido! I don't think he's going to
forgive you very easily."
Biting his lip, Shishido had to admit to himself that Jirou's suggestion was
exactly what he should have done. His friend was right; Ohtori would have left
him alone long enough to come to terms if he'd just asked for the time. But
damn it, it wasn't like they didn't all know that he tended to react to things
with his emotions instead of his brain.
"I don't think we're going to get any studying done tonight," Atobe said as the
silence stretched out after Jirou's words. Before tonight Shishido would have
described his friend's tone as 'cool', but after seeing the ice Ohtori was
capable of, Atobe didn't even come close. "Shishido, go home. My driver will
take you. When you've stopped having a temper tantrum like a five-year-old, we
can talk about this reasonably and see if we can salvage the situation."
"I've had more than enough 'help' from the two of you," Shishido snapped, stung
by Atobe's dismissal and lashing out without thinking about it. He regretted
his words when he saw the tears start tracking down over Jirou's cheeks, but he
couldn't take them back now. "Until you two get over this fucking meddling
streak, I'll do my own damn studying, thanks."
"Fine. You know the way out." This time Atobe's voice was 'cool', and Shishido
hid a flinch. Atobe was furious. Well, fuck it. So was Shishido, and of the two
of them, he thought he had a whole hell of a lot more reason to be upset. He
stalked out of the room, and unlike Ohtori he did slam the door on his way out.
Somehow, it didn't make him feel any better.
***** Chapter 7 *****
Shishido couldn't remember ever being more miserable in his entire life. Not
only did the temperature in the area drop about ten degrees any time he and
Ohtori happened to run into each other in the halls, but Jirou and Atobe
weren't speaking to him either. Jirou just gave him big soulful eyes and fled
any time Shishido got near, like he was afraid Shishido would start yelling at
him again. And Atobe was treating him like something that needed to be scraped
off the bottom of his shoe.
It made for some extremely uncomfortable classes, that was for damn sure.
Shishido and Atobe were both in the 3-1 class, as was Oshitari; Jirou and
Mukahi were in 3-2, though if Jirou hadn't slept through half his exams last
year Shishido was fairly certain all three of them would have been in the top
class together. But Atobe and Shishido had chosen to sit next to each other at
the start of the year, and now they were stuck with the arrangement.
Not like he'd never fought with Atobe before, or with Jirou for that matter.
They'd had some pretty spectacular fights in the past. But he'd never been on
the outs with both of his friends at once before, and not having anyone to talk
to or hang out with was slowly driving Shishido to distraction.
After the first week, studying at home in his room had started to draw
concerned inquiries from his family about why he never went out any more. Since
the absolute last thing he wanted to do was try to explain what was going on,
Shishido had taken to retreating to the school library after classes were done,
doing his studying in the quiet atmosphere there.
Of course, given his state of mind, he wasn't getting a hell of a lot of
studying done. As October headed rapidly towards November, Shishido's grades
continued to slip. At this rate he'd be lucky to pass the ascension exams, let
alone keep his marks high enough to be able to play on the tennis team, but he
just couldn't bring himself to care.
Still, he continued to make the effort, because what the hell else was he going
to do? Go home and stare at the walls and brood? Find an indoor court where he
could play, when even looking at his racquet drove home how very much he'd
managed to screw things up?
He'd lost count of the number of times he'd started to call Ohtori. He wasn't
even sure what he'd intended to say when his partner - former partner - picked
up. Apologize for being such an idiot? Yell at him for putting Shishido into
such a damn uncomfortable position? Beg and plead for things to go back to the
way they had been?
He never made it to the last number, though. A couple of time he'd tried using
the speed dial button, but he always hung up before the call connected. Once,
just once, Ohtori had actually answered the phone before Shishido could hit the
disconnect button. At the sound of the younger boy's voice Shishido had flung
the phone away from him so hard it shattered against the wall.
At least his parents had accepted his excuse of dropping the phone and
accidentally stepping on it. He hadn't told them about it until after he'd
spent the afternoon and evening locked into his room, crying, though.
Considering he could probably count on the fingers of one hand the number of
things that had ever driven him to tears, that was saying a lot.
That moment had marked the low point of the whole mess. After that Shishido
mostly just felt numb, like he was running on automatic. It was as if he was
walking around in a daze, speaking when spoken to, but otherwise not
interacting with anyone around him. For the most part people left him alone,
perhaps sensing that poking at him might bring an extremely unfavourable
reaction. As long as he could cling to this odd detachment, he could ignore the
feeling that he was bleeding out inside.
The two weeks before his party when Ohtori had seemed to be avoiding him had
shown him how important the younger boy had become in his life, but now that
there didn't seem to be any chance of recovering their friendship, it felt
oddly like part of Shishido had been destroyed along with it. He winced any
time he thought about it like that, because it sounded far too much like
something out of one of those horrible romance novels Oshitari was always
reading, but it was true. You didn't have to be in love to love someone, right?
And your best friend could be as big a part of your life as your lover. Ohtori
had been all that to him, and more.
Maybe if he could have poured his troubles out to Atobe and Jirou, he would
have been able to lance the painful wound before it had a chance to fester. But
since neither of them was speaking to him, all he could do was shove the hurt
down inside until it wasn't quite so painful, and hope it would go away if he
ignored it long enough.
In the end, though, the event that shocked him out of his odd apathy came from
a totally unexpected source.
He was studying in the library as usual, trying to force himself to concentrate
on the essay he was supposed to be writing. History was usually his favourite
subject, but even it had lost its shine for him now. He'd written and scratched
out half a dozen opening paragraphs in his notebook when someone speaking
suddenly from behind him made him jump.
"You really are an unmitigated asshole, aren't you?" The voice was low and only
vaguely familiar, and full of seething anger and hatred. His heart pounding,
Shishido turned in his chair and stared at the speaker. Furious silver eyes
stared back at him, narrowed with the same emotions that had been in his words.
Shishido finally found his voice. "Excuse me?" he sputtered, cursing his bad
luck. Of all the people he absolutely didn't want to run into under any
circumstances, Amano was second on the list. Though from the sounds of it, this
might not have been a coincidental meeting. "Shouldn't you be in music
practice?"
"Half the orchestra has the stomach flu that's going around, including
Choutarou," the pianist replied. "Sakaki cancelled practice. And you heard me.
Do you want me to put it in smaller words for you so you'll understand?" Silver
eyes mocked him. "You're an utter bastard. A jerk. A heartless, unfeeling cad.
Want me to keep going?"
Snarling, Shishido half rose from the table, fists clenched. "Where the hell do
you get off..."
"D'you know he cried himself to sleep for a week straight?" Amano interrupted
him, eyes flashing and hands clenched in fists of his own. "And that was the
first time, when he just thought you didn't give a rat's ass about him. I won't
even go into how he's reacting now that he thinks you actually hate him,
because if I start thinking about it I'm going to punch you out. And frankly,
you're not worth getting into trouble over."
The image of Ohtori crying himself to sleep, coupled with the memory of the
tall boy's red-rimmed eyes at Atobe's, was enough to make Shishido collapse
back into his seat. His breath left him in a rush of pain, but he struggled to
keep his expression neutral. "I missed the part where this is any business of
yours?" he growled, using anger to cover the hurt.
"Oh, it's very much my business," Amano assured him, moving closer so he could
lower his voice to ensure they weren't overheard. "He's my boyfriend, and if
you think I'll stay out of it when someone is hurting him this badly, you're
very much mistaken."
The air that had left Shishido was now refusing to return, and he stared at the
pianist in shock. There had been part of him that suspected, had maybe even
known, but... to just hear him say it out loud like that...
"If you don't care about your own reputation, you might at least think about
his," he finally snapped, hiding his clenched fists in his lap so Amano
wouldn't see the way he was shaking. "You can't go around saying shit like
that!"
"You already know, and if you were going to tell anyone you'd have done it
before this," Amano asserted, his voice cool as he stared down at Shishido. "I
suppose I should be grateful you're not quite that cruel. Or are you saving it
to blackmail him with later?"
Without even being aware that he was moving, without even realizing he intended
to move, Shishido was up out of his seat and had Amano's collar fisted in his
hand, pinning the smaller boy up against the bookshelves. There was no fear in
those silver eyes, only fury to match Shishido's own.
"Don't you dare insinuate that I would ever do something like that to
Choutarou," Shishido snarled, fighting the urge to plant his other fist into
the smug bastard's stomach.
"Why not?" Amano jeered, the effect of his words in no way muted by the
slightly choked sound in his voice. "You've already devastated him in every
other way that matters. If you actually gave a damn about him, you wouldn't
have hurt him so badly."
"You don't know a gods-damned thing, so shut your mouth," Shishido growled,
tightening his fist and lifting Amano another inch. "Or I'll fucking well shut
it for you. Why the hell did you come here?"
"To let you know what a good job you'd done of hurting him," Amano taunted,
still unperturbed. "Since avoiding him is such an important part of your
method, I figured you might want to hear how well it was going..."
This time Shishido cut him off with a punch. Some vestige of restraint kept him
from striking the pianist himself; instead he smashed his fist into the
bookcase, impacting with the books and sending several of them flying off the
shelf. "What's the matter, am I hitting too close to home?" Amano asked softly,
eyes narrowed. "I'd almost think you were suffering from a guilty conscience,
Shishido."
"Shut the fuck up!" Releasing the younger boy abruptly, Shishido staggered
back, nursing his hand. The knuckles were split and bleeding sluggishly, but
the pain was just a counterpoint to the crushing agony in his chest. "Just get
the hell away from me! Go comfort him, I'm sure you've been more than happy to
do that. If you come near me again, I'll kill you, hear me?"
Slowly, deliberately, Amano straightened his uniform jacket, staring Shishido
in the eyes the whole time. "You know what the most pathetic part of all this
is?" he said softly, venom laced through his tone. "I think you really do love
him. You're just too stupidly in denial to see what's in front of your own
face, and too plain old stupid to take a good thing when it's offered to you."
Gaping at him, Shishido couldn't even begin to find words to deny his
ridiculous accusations. Okay, yes, he'd admitted to himself that Ohtori meant
more to him than just about anyone. And he was still taking a hell of a lot of
cold showers, as per his earlier resolution. But...
Taking a step forward, Amano lowered his voice further. "You know what else?"
the pianist murmured. "By the time you actually admit to yourself what you
really want, it'll be too late." Another step forward, and it wasn't until
Shishido ran into the table that he realized he'd been backing away.
"In fact," Amano continued doggedly, "it's already too late." Another step, and
now he was up in Shishido's face, and Shishido's hands were white-knuckled on
the edge of the table to keep him from collapsing. "You had your chance, plenty
of chances, and you threw them all away. He's mine now, and you can't have him
back." Satisfaction and something more dangerous glittered in the younger boy's
eyes.
"And if you ever, ever hurt him again," the long-haired boy all but whispered,
"I will personally turn your life into a living hell. I've given him what you
couldn't - I love him, and I won't let anyone hurt him. Certainly not you."
Without waiting for Shishido's response, Amano turned and stalked off, flipping
his hair over his shoulder in an uncaring gesture. For a long moment Shishido
remained frozen against the table, his thoughts in chaos, heart pounding so
hard it felt like it was trying to come up through his throat.
Finally he collapsed back into his chair, lowering his head into his hands as
he shook with reaction. His numb protection had shattered irretrievably, and
everything came crashing down on him at once. How could he have been so damn
stupid? How could he have hurt Ohtori so badly? Amano was right about one thing
at least; Shishido'd had a chance to fix this, several chances, and all he'd
done was hurt Ohtori more.
The pianist had made one major miscalculation, though. In shocking Shishido out
of his apathy, he'd also awoken the same determination and fighting spirit that
had made Shishido the first person in Hyoutei's history to win his way back
onto the Regulars. Yeah, he'd needed Ohtori's help to do it, but that just made
it all the more imperative that Shishido find some way to fix this, to make it
up to his friend. He owed Ohtori so much.
What the hell difference did it make if Ohtori was gay? Sure, it was a little
weird to think about the younger boy thinking about him like that, and sure,
the whole thing still bothered Shishido more than he wanted to admit. But
Ohtori was his partner, and his best friend. Wasn't that more important?
Grabbing his books, Shishido shoved them into his bag and all but bolted for
the door. Atobe had been right, it wasn't like him to run from his problems,
but that was exactly what he'd been doing. Well, no more. He was going to face
this the same way he faced everything else; with a stubborn refusal to give up
and admit defeat. If this mess was all his fault, then he was fucking well
going to take responsibility and do something about it.
Jirou's mother let him in with a smile and a comment about how she hadn't seen
much of him lately. Shishido started to make an excuse, then remembered his new
resolution to start admitting it when he'd screwed up, and instead told her
that he'd gotten into a fight with Jirou. The fact that her smile didn't waver
in the least told him she already knew - and also that Jirou had probably
forgiven him a long time ago, because if the sleepy boy had still been actively
upset with him, his over-protective family wouldn't have even let Shishido in
the door.
He made his way up the stairs to Jirou's room, not bothering to knock. He knew
from his friend's mother that Jirou was alone up here, which meant he was
either asleep, or had music turned up really loud on his headphones in an
attempt to keep himself awake enough to study. Either way, he wasn't going to
hear Shishido knocking.
It wasn't like it was the first time he'd just strolled into Jirou's room, but
he felt a little uncomfortable doing it when things were still so awkward
between the two of them. At least Jirou was awake; the other boy's back was to
the door as he sat at his desk, and his chin was propped in one hand, but his
pen was moving over the notebook and his head was bobbing slightly in time to
the beat.
Reaching out, Shishido flipped the switch next to the light switch. It
controlled the power to the socket the stereo was plugged into, killing the
music instantly. It was the easiest way anyone had found to get Jirou's
attention when he was listening to the music; if you went up and touched his
shoulder he tended to jump half a foot in the air in surprise.
"Huh?" Startled by the sudden silence from his headphones, Jirou jerked upright
and dropped his pen. "Is it dinner already?" Turning, he caught sight of
Shishido, and his quizzical expression became apprehensive. "Oh, Shishido. Did
you come to yell at me some more?"
"No, dumbass," Shishido couldn't help but snort, grinning weakly at his friend.
"I came to apologize, and ask you for help."
"Apologize?" Jirou blinked at him, and Shishido nodded. "And ask for help?"
Shishido nodded again. "But, Shishido," the other boy looked thoroughly
bewildered, "You never apologize or ask for help."
"I asked Choutarou for help once," Shishido corrected him, and Jirou's eyes
widened in understanding. "And I learned an important lesson about it, then. So
now I'm asking you."
"You're really not mad at me for interfering any more?" his friend asked
cautiously, obviously not trusting this new peace offering entirely. Shishido
shook his head.
"I swear," he said. "And I really am sorry for blowing up at you, I know you
were just trying to help. Forgive me?"
"Of course," Jirou said it like he shouldn't have even needed to ask. Shishido
felt some of the tension he'd been carrying around melt away with that simple
agreement, and he sighed. "Have a seat," Jirou invited him, gesturing. "Tell me
what's up?"
Shishido chose to sit on the edge of the bed, since he knew from previous
experience that all of the other furniture in Jirou's room was horribly
uncomfortable. It was deliberate; it didn't prevent the narcoleptic from
falling asleep eventually, but it did keep him awake longer. "You already know
most of it," he said. "I need to get over this stupid phobic reaction. And then
I need to figure out a way to make it up to Choutarou."
"He might not forgive you now, you know," Jirou pointed out softly, turning in
his chair to rest his chin on his hands on the back of it. "You hurt him pretty
bad, Shishido."
"Yeah, I know," Shishido admitted painfully. "And if he won't, well... I guess
I can't blame him. I fucked up royally, didn't I?" Jirou nodded solemnly, and
Shishido sighed again. "But even if he won't forgive me, maybe I can at least
make it stop hurting so much for him. But first I have to be able to face him
without freaking out, damn it!"
"It really bothers you that much?" Jirou looked at him curiously. "Just knowing
that he's like that, even if he's gotten over you? You never said anything
about Oshitari and Mukahi..."
"I try not to think about them too hard," Shishido cut in dryly, shuddering. "I
don't want to know. And that's different, damn it. What they do with each other
is their choice; it doesn't have anything to do with me. Choutarou was thinking
about me that way, Jirou!"
"It's not like he's the first person ever to have a crush on you," Jirou said,
amused. "You used to get girls confessing to you all the time, when you still
had long hair. Does it really make that much of a difference that he's a boy?
It's not like he expected you to do anything."
"Yes! No. I don't know." Frustrated, Shishido raked a hand through his hair.
"Maybe it would be different if he were a girl, but... he's my partner, Jirou.
Closer to me in some ways than you and Atobe, maybe. It's just weird."
"So it's just because he was so close to you, that makes it weird?" Jirou
asked, and Shishido nodded. "Are you sure?" the smaller boy persisted, and
Shishido gave him an odd look. "What if it'd been me?"
"What if it had been you what?" Shishido said blankly. "What if it had been you
that Choutarou had a crush on?"
Jirou shook his head. "No. What if it had been me who confessed to having a
crush on you?" He waited expectantly as Shishido tried to process that idea.
"But... you don't!" Shishido sputtered, stymied by the very idea. Then he gave
Jirou a horrified look. "Do you?" Dear gods, that was all this mess needed,
another heart getting broken.
"No, no," Jirou assured him hastily. "I like you and all, but not like that.
I'm just saying, 'what if'." Then he grinned impishly, the expression both
Shishido and Atobe had learned to be wary of because it usually meant their
sleepy friend was about to convince them to get into some kind of trouble.
"Though I probably wouldn't say no if you wanted to experiment. But that's
beside the point."
"Whoa, hey, wait a minute," Shishido broke in, shocked. "Jirou, you... you..."
"Kinda," the other boy admitted guilelessly. "I dunno, I like girls well
enough. But I still wouldn't say no." He tilted his head and looked back at
Shishido. "Does that bother you?"
It should have, shouldn't it? Jirou was just as close to him as Ohtori had
been. So shouldn't he have been reacting the same way? Slowly, Shishido shook
his head. "I dunno. I guess maybe it's the same as with Oshitari and Mukahi -
it doesn't involve me, so I don't really care." He gave his friend a sharp
look. "Just be careful, okay? You could get really hurt if people found out."
"I know," Jirou assured him. "Not like you even knew, is it? But we're supposed
to be worrying about you, not me. How would you have reacted if I'd confessed
to you?"
Shishido tried to picture it, and failed. Finally he shook his head. "I just
can't imagine it," he admitted. "Hell, Jirou. It's like trying to imagine Atobe
confessing to me. I know you don't feel that way about me."
"All right, what if I just told you that I'd thought about you that way
sometimes?" Jirou tried again. When Shishido looked at him askance, he shrugged
and answered the question he could see in Shishido's eyes. "A few times. It's
not a big deal. You and Atobe are the people I spend the most time with, and
you're both really hot. Why wouldn't I?"
"I am so never going to be able to watch you sleep again without wondering if
you're dreaming about me, you do realize that?" Shishido muttered, looking away
uncomfortably. Geez, did Jirou really have to tell him that? Bad enough that he
knew about Ohtori...
Only, thinking about Jirou fantasizing about him didn't bring on the same kind
of reaction that finding out about Ohtori's crush had. It was kind of like
poking at a sore tooth; it gave him a bit of a sour feeling in his stomach, but
there was a sort of repulsed fascination at the idea as well. And, as Atobe had
said before, he found he was just a little flattered to know that Jirou thought
he was hot.
Why didn't it bother him as much? Jirou was arguably closer to him than Ohtori
had been. Did it make that much of a difference whether the fantasies had been
based on romantic desire or just pure lust and hormones?
Was it just that he'd spent so much time obsessing over Ohtori's feelings for
him that he'd sort of numbed himself to the idea of a male friend thinking of
him that way? Maybe. But the moment he considered the idea in terms of Ohtori
instead of Jirou, that horrible shivery feeling returned to his stomach,
twisting him in knots.
"All right, what the fuck?" he burst out, baffled. "It bugs me, but not as
much. Why doesn't it bother me as much if it's you, damn it?"
"You've been thinking about it a lot, haven't you?" Jirou asked softly, his
voice neutral and carefully not judging. "About him. About him thinking about
you. Am I wrong?"
Shishido wanted to deny it, but he couldn't lie. Not to Jirou, not when he'd
asked his friend to help him. "Yeah. Obviously, or I wouldn't be such a mess
now. So?"
"So maybe the part that bothers you isn't how he feels about you," Jirou
shrugged, looking back at him calmly. Shishido stared at him, suspecting where
this was going and not entirely sure he was going to be able to argue it. Jirou
gave him a sympathetic smile, and concluded, "Maybe what really bothers you is
how thinking about how he feels about you makes you feel."
***** Chapter 8 *****
"I cannot believe you're making me do this," Shishido muttered, shifting
uncomfortably in his seat and wishing he dared loosen his tie. At least this
was Hyoutei, and the chairs in the auditorium were comfortable rather than
being the cheap stackable type used by most schools. They could have been the
plushest, most well padded chairs in the world and he still would have felt
uncomfortable, though.
"You asked for our help, and we're giving it to you," Atobe informed him
sardonically. "Stop fidgeting, it's not like we're asking you to sit through
some sort of excruciating torture. The Hyoutei orchestra is one of the best
student orchestras in the city, if not the country. Just sit back, relax, and
enjoy yourself." When Shishido gave him a skeptical look, Atobe smirked and
gestured at the shorter boy between them. "If Jirou can stay awake for this,
surely you can sit still for it."
"He'll be asleep by the end of the first action, or movement or whatever it's
called," Shishido predicted, making Atobe chuckle and Jirou frown at him.
"I will not! I like music," the smaller boy protested, but his eyelids were
already starting to droop. When Shishido snorted at him, Jirou sighed and ran a
hand through his hair. "Well, I do. Wake me up for Ohtori-kun's part, at least?
I don't want to miss it."
"We will," Shishido assured him, sighing and slumping back into his own seat.
"And I know I asked for your help, but this wasn't exactly what I had in mind.
What am I going to accomplish by coming to the stupid concert?"
"You show him that you still care enough about him to be interested in
something that matters a great deal to him," Atobe replied tartly. "Something
which isn't particularly to your own tastes, but which you are willing to
attend precisely because it matters to him. Now hush, they're going to start."
Indeed, the various random (and not terribly melodic) noises produced by an
orchestra warming up had ceased, and the lights around the auditorium were
starting to dim. The chatter among the audience died off as people settled into
their seats with a last rustle of paper. Shishido slumped a little further into
his own chair, crossing his arms over his chest and trying not to scowl.
It wasn't that he didn't like music, though he certainly didn't understand why
people claimed to see images or entire stories in a bunch of notes strung
together. And it wasn't that he didn't want to see Ohtori, because he did, and
he loved hearing the younger boy play.
Honestly, it was mostly that he'd developed a severe dislike for Amano, and the
feeling seemed to be mutual. They hadn't exactly spent a great deal of time
together, or really any since their 'discussion' in the library, but whenever
they saw each other in the halls sparks flew. Which was a bit of an odd
sensation, since the pianist was almost always in Ohtori's company, and the
tall junior was being as icy as ever towards Shishido.
It hadn't taken much for Shishido to figure out that his first step needed to
be an apology. A damn sincere one, at that. He wasn't naive enough to think
that would be enough, but it might at least get Ohtori speaking to him again.
There was no way in hell he was going to do his groveling in front of Amano,
though. He needed to get Ohtori alone, and considering the younger boy was
pulling the same tricks Shishido had used to avoid him, that was proving to be
damn near impossible. He didn't think attending the concert was likely to
garner him an opportunity, but Atobe had insisted that if he wanted Ohtori to
believe he was sincere, he had to attend.
As the first notes of the piece swirled up and out around the audience,
Shishido tried to set his worries aside and just listen. He wanted to be able
to honestly tell Ohtori later that he'd enjoyed the piece, at least.
He'd always thought it was just a little pretentious that Sakaki tended to have
the orchestra play the pieces he'd written, instead of the usual classical
stuff. After all, if the guy's music was all that good, he'd remarked once to
Ohtori after listening to a practice, why was he still a high school music
teacher and tennis coach?
Ohtori had laughed and said that while Sakaki was certainly no Mozart or
Beethoven (whoever they were), his music was fairly well suited to the level of
the orchestra and did have the advantage of being able to showcase whoever was
most talented among the students at the time.
Which, Shishido was once again reminded as the music picked up and the strings
came in, was Ohtori and Amano this time around. The sweet strains of the lead
violin soared up above the main theme, a poignant descant to the rest of the
orchestra. The students were up on the stage rather than down in the pit since
this concert was for them alone, and Shishido stared at Ohtori as the younger
boy threw himself into his music.
He was hardly even aware of the piano line coming in and racing to catch up to
the violin in a brief struggle for dominance. Then the fight was over, and they
were flying together, supporting and encouraging each other to new heights.
Shishido realized he was holding his breath only when his chest began to burn,
and he released the air as quietly as he could.
He might not feel magic in music, might not see the pictures and stories, but
even he couldn't be completely unmoved by this. He didn't know if Sakaki had
truly outdone himself, or if Ohtori and Amano were just that damn good, but he
privately didn't think the Hyoutei orchestra would ever be able to top this
performance. The two juniors were putting everything they had into it, and it
was... breathtaking.
When it was over, Shishido found himself on his feet applauding with everyone
else, his hands stinging with how hard he was clapping. His breath was still a
little tight in his chest, and he couldn't stop staring at Ohtori as the
silver-haired boy stood, bowing to the audience to accept the accolades.
Shishido was vaguely aware that Amano was doing the same over at the piano, but
all his attention was fixed on the glowing, ecstatic look on Ohtori's face.
Beside him Jirou was bouncing and shouting his own cheers, the sound of his
voice all but lost in the thundering ovation. Atobe was standing and clapping
as well, though he appeared somewhat less swept away by the experience than his
two friends. Well, as he'd been telling them on the way to the concert, Atobe
had been exposed to the best music and musicians in the world since he was a
child, so perhaps this was somewhat less impressive to him. It didn't matter to
Shishido... all he really cared about what how it had made him feel, and the
triumphant look that was still plastered on Ohtori's face.
By the time the applause began to die down and people in the audience started
talking, Shishido finally felt like he was able to breathe normally again.
"Wow, that was so awesome," Jirou was exclaiming, eyes wide with as much
excitement as he evidenced during only the most difficult tennis matches.
"Atobe, Shishido, did you hear that? Wasn't that fantastic? Wow, they're so
amazing! I knew Ohtori-kun was good, but I didn't know he was that good, did
you? Wow!"
Laughing, Atobe reached out and ruffled Jirou's hair. "Calm down, Jirou. Yes,
they were quite excellent, especially Ohtori and Amano. But we're not on a
tennis court, and people are starting to stare."
Jirou's voice had carried even in the muffled acoustics of the audience area,
designed to minimize the interference of crowd noise. Shishido looked back at
the stage, expecting the sound of the familiar excited voice to have drawn
Ohtori's attention, but to his dismay the junior was nowhere to be seen. He'd
evidently been one of the first to leave the stage; as had Amano, Shishido
noted with a sigh. So much for catching his former partner while the pianist
was busy with his adoring fans. He'd been sort of hoping Amano would be the
egotistical type and hang around basking in the attention and praise, but no
such luck.
"I'm going backstage," Shishido announced, mouth set in a stubborn line that
dared either of his two friends to tell him it was a bad idea. "I need to talk
to him, damn it. To tell him how good that was, if nothing else."
"You'll hardly be able to get him alone," Atobe warned him with a raised
eyebrow. "There will be musicians and well-wishers everywhere, and he and Amano
will probably be staying together for pictures and such."
"I don't care," Shishido insisted. "You know what? Fuck it. At least in public
he won't be able to make as much of a scene, and maybe it'll help me corner him
where he can't get away." And maybe, if he could bring himself to do it,
debasing himself in public would get through to Ohtori that he was deadly
serious about making amends. He'd done as much to get his spot back on the
team. Was his best friend and partner worth any less?
"Good luck, and tell him I thought he was wonderful," Jirou said, still
grinning from ear to ear. "We'll wait outside for you - three's a crowd, and
all." He blinked, and tilted his head. "Except there'd be four of us, if we all
went back there. What does four make?"
"Two people too many," Atobe answered, as Shishido snorted in amusement. "Just
be careful you don't push too far, Ryou. He's not going to forgive you all at
once, assuming he forgives you at all."
"Small steps, I know," Shishido agreed. "I can handle it. I'll see you guys
outside."
He started edging his way out of the row, sidestepping people who were slower
to gather their things to leave. He stepped on more than a few toes, he
thought, but he just muttered absent apologies and kept going. He wanted to get
back there before Ohtori was totally overwhelmed with other well-wishers, or
worse, before he left entirely.
Since he wasn't in the least reluctant to use elbows and judiciously applied
force to get him through the crowds, he made it to the 'green room' area in
good time. The place was swarming with music students putting away their
instruments, family members come to dote on the students, and various assorted
other people. Cameras were flashing everywhere, and he heard reporters trying
to shout questions to Sakaki who was holding court in the center of the room.
No matter where he looked, though, he couldn't spot Ohtori. He tried asking a
few of the students, but they just shrugged and shook their heads, saying they
hadn't seen him since he and Amano had left the stage.
He was just about ready to give up, glumly concluding that the two stars of the
show had made an early escape for some reason, when he happened to overhear a
snippet of conversation between three girls that caught his attention.
"Where'd the lovebirds go? Everybody's asking for them," one of them grumbled
as she cleaned her clarinet. Shishido felt his heart clench oddly at her choice
of words; given the context, it wasn't hard to figure out who she was talking
about. Gods, did Ohtori and Amano actually advertise their relationship?
Granted, musicians were kind of expected to lean in that direction, but
admitting it was another thing entirely!
"Who knows?" one of the other girls replied, rolling her eyes. Shishido did his
best to blend into the crowd behind them, wanting to know more about what the
other musicians thought of Ohtori. "Downstairs to the practice rooms,
probably."
"Do they think the rest of us don't know what they're up to when they vanish
like this?" the third giggled, twirling a cleaning rod in her fingers.
"Seriously."
"I think the question is more, 'do they even realize anybody else exists'," the
second one snorted.
"Only when we miss a note!" the first put in, laughing. "And then brrr, watch
the temperature drop! I'm not sure which of them is worse; Ohtori's nicer about
it, but he's better at the Ice Prince act than Amano. They're welcome to each
other, I say. Anyone else would be frozen solid in a week."
"I don't know, I think it's an awful shame," the third sighed. "They're both so
gorgeous. And Ohtori's not as bad now as he was at the beginning of term. More
like the way he was last term."
"Didn't I hear he had a thing going with someone in the tennis club last term?"
the first asked, eyes shining. Shishido's breath caught as he realized they had
to be referring to him. The music students thought he and Ohtori had been
together? Was he the only one who hadn't known about his partner's crush on
him?
"Nah, I think that was unrequited," one of the others answered. "He was
definitely nicer last term, though. Wonder why? You'd think actually getting
some would make him happier."
Shishido's nails were digging into his palms, and he had to bite his lip to
keep from interrupting as the third girl leaned in towards the other two.
"Well, I heard he had a really nasty break-up fight with the guy in the tennis
club, and that's why Amano's so protective of him," she murmured, making the
other two giggle. "Michiko told me he was totally heartbroken."
"So what's he doing with Amano, then?" the first asked. "He seems pretty happy
to me."
"I guess he got over the first guy," the other shrugged, and they all giggled
again. "Considering the way he and Amano are always..."
Shishido had heard enough. Swallowing the bile that was threatening to rise, he
all but stormed out of the music room and down the hall. He didn't particularly
want to hear about whatever it was that Ohtori and Amano were 'always...', nor
did he want to think about it. Jirou's confession that he occasionally thought
of Shishido that way had made Shishido re-evaluate a lot of the things that
he'd believed had bothered him most about Ohtori's orientation, but that didn't
mean he wanted to hear details!
He could make his apology to Ohtori later. The concert was traditionally held
on the last day of the fall term; surely at some point in the next few weeks
Shishido would be able to corner the junior at home to talk to him. Hell, he
might even be able to enlist Ohtori's family's help, if he told them he was
trying to make up for a fight he'd had with their son. For now, the only thing
he wanted was to escape out into the cool night air, find Atobe and Jirou, and
go home.
Unfortunately the halls were crowded with people, and everyone was talking
about the two stars of the show. No matter which way he turned there were
clusters of people blocking the halls, and he couldn't escape the repeated
reminders of his former partner and the junior's boyfriend. Frustrated with his
inability to get anywhere, he finally turned and took one of the side halls
that led to the stairs. He could cut across on another floor and avoid the
crush of people, then get out of the school on the other side.
Later he would never be sure if he'd honestly forgotten what the girls had
said, or if it was some imp of the perverse in his subconscious mind that made
him go down the stairs instead of up. The lower floor was as deserted as the
upper ones would have been, just rows and rows of doors, placed much closer
together than was normal for classrooms.
The placement of the doors puzzled him for a moment as he walked, until he
remembered; these were the small, soundproofed individual practice rooms for
the music students, not classrooms. The thought jogged his memory at the same
time that he heard the sound of people murmuring from the door nearest him, and
he froze.
Practice rooms. Ohtori and Amano. The 'lovebirds'... and what did the rest of
the orchestra think they were up to when they disappeared? Shishido really
didn't want to know, but neither could he seem to convince his feet to move as
the murmuring turned into a soft moan.
The door nearest him was open just a bit, though there was no light inside. The
only illumination came from the dim lights in the hall where Shishido was
standing, throwing most of the room beyond into deep shadow. When the occupants
spoke again, this time Shishido was able to make out the words.
"We shouldn't be doing this." Shishido couldn't mistake that voice for anyone
but Ohtori, even lowered and with an odd edge of strain in it. "They're going
to come looking for us. I thought I heard footsteps."
"If they were looking for us, they'd have been calling our names," Amano
replied, his voice a silky murmur in the darkness. "That's why we left the door
cracked, remember? So we'd hear them if they called for us. Relax, Choutarou. I
didn't hear anything, and even if there was someone out there, it was probably
just some of the others looking for a private place to celebrate. Same as us."
"Kazuya..." the warning note in Ohtori's voice was swallowed by a sudden gasp,
and another moan. Shishido's eyes were starting to adjust to the gloom, and he
could make out the dim outlines of two people inside the room, pressed up tight
against the wall. The barely open door gave him an odd view, since he was only
able to see a thin strip of the two boys, but he could see enough to figure out
what was going on, more or less.
The taller body was leaning against the wall like it was the only thing holding
him up, and the shorter one was clinging to him like a leech. Given that Amano
was even shorter than Shishido, it wasn't hard to tell who was who. The pianist
shifted, and Shishido finally realized what was making Ohtori gasp like that;
Amano had his hand down the other junior's pants.
Heart leaping wildly in his throat, Shishido told himself to run, get the hell
out of there, or at least back up quietly and retreat until he couldn't hear
them any more. Let alone see them. Not only was this so utterly none of his
business, but the last thing he needed was to re-trigger his phobic reaction by
actually getting an eyeful of the two in action.
He'd taken one cautious step backwards, not wanting to make noise and alert
them that he was there, when Ohtori gasped again and shifted. The change in
position put his face partly into the dim light from the hall, and Shishido
froze again. He told himself it was just because he was afraid movement from
him would attract Ohtori's gaze, but the truth was Ohtori's eyes were closed
and he obviously wasn't paying attention to anything much other than what Amano
was doing.
Which was... ohdeargods, he was unzipping Ohtori's pants, pulling them down far
enough to free Ohtori's cock, and now Shishido could see his pale hand moving
over the paler flesh. Ohtori had thrown his head back, an expression of
tortured bliss on his face as he clutched at the wall and Amano's shoulders.
Another step, and Shishido was pressed against the wall beside the door. At
least that meant he wasn't an obvious silhouette in the hall lights should one
of them happen to glance over, and now he could keep edging backwards and out
of sight without attracting attention. Except his feet weren't moving. Why
weren't his feet moving?
"C'mon, Choutarou, I want to celebrate," Amano was whispering slyly. "We've
earned it. You were so incredible up there. We were so incredible. Let me make
you feel as good as it made me feel to play with you like that." Ohtori moaned
again, louder this time, a tacit invitation for Amano to continue that the
pianist didn't hesitate to act on.
It took everything Shishido had to tear his eyes away from the expression on
Ohtori's face. He was going to look away damn it, not down, he was not looking
down hewasnotlooking...
Fuck. Shishido bit down hard on a whimper of his own, tasting blood spilling
into his mouth from where one of his teeth had pierced the flesh of his lip.
All right, yes, he was looking down and he was totally fixated on watching the
way Amano's hand was sliding slowly over the taller boy's cock and he was
reacting to the sight in a rather visceral way.
And that was... that was okay, right? Well, no, not even he could convince
himself that it was 'okay' to be watching his best friend get jacked off by his
boyfriend without the two of them being aware he was there, but... but it was
okay that he was reacting. Right? Hell, after more than two months of
frustration and endless cold showers, he'd probably be reacting to just about
anything overtly sexual in nature. It didn't mean anything...
The rather ineffective attempt at convincing himself flew straight out the
window when Amano dropped to his knees and took Ohtori into his mouth. The
sounds Ohtori was making would have been enough to shatter Shishido's denial
all by themselves, but the part that really struck him down was they way they
looked.
Some quirk of fate had made Amano choose to pull his hair up into a high
ponytail for the night, nearly identical to the hairstyle Shishido had once
worn to play tennis. With the dim light hiding the lack of muscle tone and the
green tint to Amano's hair, the junior suddenly eerily resembled Shishido
himself, back before he'd cut his hair. Shishido's mind was more than happy to
make the jump in imagination, picturing himself in Amano's place, making those
soft sucking sounds and forcing those strangled noises out of Ohtori's throat.
The mental image had him so instantly, painfully hard that he throbbed with the
force of it, and would have staggered if he weren't already leaning against the
wall. Terrified he would make enough noise for the two in the room to notice
him and be caught out, he turned and bolted for the nearest practice room
behind him.
There were muffled exclamations of surprise and dismay, but Shishido (he hoped)
reached the other practice room before the two juniors could gather themselves
and their dignity enough to actually look to find out who had been watching
them. Thankfully the door was unlocked; if it hadn't been Shishido thought he
might have broken it down, or maybe just died of mortification on the spot when
Ohtori realized he'd been standing there the whole time.
He slammed the door behind him and leaned against it, his breath harsh in the
still air of the soundproofed room. Distantly on the other side of the door he
could hear muffled footsteps and a familiar voice calling out, asking if anyone
was there, but he knew they probably wouldn't go testing every door just to
check. After all, Amano had been more or less right earlier - who else would be
down here but someone else wanting privacy?
Unable to bear it a moment longer, Shishido slipped his hand down the front of
his dress slacks and curled his fingers around his cock, hissing as the rough
callous on his palm dragged against the sensitive skin. He beat himself off at
a furious pace, quick harsh strokes that made him grateful for the
soundproofing as his voice got out of his control.
It was the memory of a dark head bobbing over pale flesh and darker fabric that
drove him; and, he couldn't deny it, his own imagination supplied hazy thoughts
of what it would have been like if it had been him and not Amano doing that to
Ohtori. What it would have felt like, tasted like... how it would have sounded,
to hear Ohtori crying his name in that breathless whimper...
He came hard, stifling his shout with his other hand, not sure the
soundproofing would be enough to muffle that. He'd never quite believed all the
stupid romantic crap about seeing stars or your vision going white as you came,
but he definitely lost track of the world around him for a few moments there at
the end. Shuddering with the force of it, panting and whimpering at every tiny
bit of sensation on his now over-sensitive skin, Shishido leaned against the
door and struggled for equilibrium.
Dearest fucking gods, he'd just watched his best friend getting a blowjob from
another guy. He'd just jerked off to a fantasy of his best friend getting a
blowjob from him. What the hell was wrong with him?
The shivery sensation in his chest was choking him, and that roiling feeling in
his gut was back. Only the sick feeling didn't seem as much like revulsion as
he'd always told himself it did. It felt more like fear; the kind of
devastating fear he'd felt when Tachibana had utterly destroyed him on the
courts, and everything he'd ever believed about the world and about himself had
been turned on its head.
That time, it had been the realization that his cocksure arrogance on the
courts had been nothing but false pride that had torn him apart. The basis for
his entire sense of self-worth, his prowess at tennis, had been stripped from
him. He'd clawed his way back up from the depths, remaking himself in the fire
of his determination not to remain fallen, but he was a very different person
now than he had been then.
Leaning against the door, his fist covered with semen and still wrapped around
his semi-hard cock, Shishido's whole body shuddered with dry sobs as he
wondered how much of him was going to survive the epiphany this time.
***** Chapter 9 *****
The fresh, chilled air hit Shishido hard as he finally left the school
building, and he paused to take a deep breath of it. His head was swimming, and
he felt almost feverish. He couldn't seem to chase any one thought down long
enough to focus on it, and it was nearly enough to make him dizzy.
Most of all, he was extremely grateful that Ohtori and Amano had left by the
time he'd emerged from the practice room. Shishido had quickly made his way to
a bathroom halfway across the school from the music department and cleaned
himself up. There was no way in hell he could face Ohtori to apologize after
what had just happened. He didn't particularly want to have to face Atobe and
Jirou, either, but he'd arrived in Atobe's limo and the bus he normally took
home from school didn't run at this hour.
Any hopes he'd been harbouring that his two friends wouldn't notice anything
was wrong were shattered the moment Shishido came within sight of the limo.
Jirou was still awake and bouncing, and still chattering at top speed about how
good the concert had been; Atobe was leaning against the side of the limo with
his arms folded, occasionally nodding indulgently. When Jirou caught sight of
Shishido he paused in mid-bounce, and landed rather awkwardly on flat feet.
"Shishido?" Recovering, Jirou ran towards him, his brown eyes big with concern.
"Shishido, are you okay? You look like you're gonna be sick."
The thought had occurred to Shishido a few times, but it wasn't a physical
illness that was plaguing him. "I'm fine," he said, grateful that his voice
came out steady. "It's nothing, Jirou, don't worry about it."
"What happened?" the smaller boy persisted, trotting along beside him as he
made his way to the car and Atobe. "Did you and Ohtori-kun get into another
fight?"
Shishido paled further. "No. No, we didn't fight. I didn't even get a chance to
talk to him." See him, yes, but he wasn't mentioning that part. Hell no.
"Something happened," Atobe observed, his eyes narrowed. "But this isn't the
place to discuss it. Get in the car, both of you. We'll talk on the way back to
my house. I've already arranged with both your parents for you to stay the
night."
If it had been anyone else, Shishido would have bristled at that. But he and
Jirou had both learned long ago that there was no point in arguing with Atobe's
high-handed manner; he just utterly ignored you and continued right on with
whatever he was planning.
And really, Shishido didn't want to have to endure any well-meant concern from
his family, either. Not that he particularly wanted to face the questions Jirou
and Atobe were likely to throw at him, but he didn't seem to be able to avoid
that.
Once they were all settled in the plush seats and the car was moving, Shishido
braced himself for the barrage. To his surprise, when Jirou started to blurt
out a concerned question, Atobe raised his hand and stopped the other boy.
"Later, Jirou," Atobe murmured when Jirou and Shishido both gave him confused
looks. "Let him recover a bit first, hmm?"
Shishido wasn't sure whether to be grateful or more nervous. Somehow he didn't
think Atobe was protecting him entirely out of the goodness of his heart; more
likely it was so his wealthy friend would have a chance to plan his own angle
of attack.
With a sheepish grin at Shishido, Jirou just shrugged and went back to his
original topic of conversation. Thankfully the other boy was more than capable
of carrying on a conversation all by himself when he was this excited; all he
needed was the occasional encouragement from Atobe and some indication that
Shishido was listening. It was hard enough to listen to Jirou babbling on about
how wonderful Ohtori had been; he didn't think he'd have been able to come up
with anything coherent to say on the subject had he been forced to participate.
His mind was still going around in little circles, like Pochi chasing her own
tail. There was no way in hell he could continue to convince himself that he
was completely unattracted to Ohtori, not after what he'd been thinking and
feeling while watching the two of them. Not after what he'd been imagining
while jerking off in that practice room. Even now, despite his guilt and shame,
he felt his body stirring at the memory. He shifted uncomfortably on the seat
and willed himself to think of something else.
There wasn't much else he could think of, though. His mind was quite firmly
stuck on Ohtori, and his own feelings towards the younger boy. He just... he
couldn't be gay. Could he? Surely he'd have noticed some sign of it before
this; he was fifteen, for crying out loud! And anyway, he was attracted to
girls, even if he'd never yet met an individual one he was particularly
interested in. He enjoyed the nude mags and had fantasies of pretty girls as
often as the next guy. So he couldn't possibly be like that.
Only, Jirou had said he liked girls too, hadn't he? Was that really possible,
to be interested in both? Why bother even thinking about guys, if you could
like girls and didn't have to deal with the stigma?
"Jirou? How'd you know you were interested in guys?" he blurted out, cutting
his friend off mid-word. For a moment there was stunned silence in the car, and
he looked up to find both Jirou and Atobe staring at him.
Belatedly, it occurred to him that he'd just outed Jirou to Atobe. His eyes
went wide in panic, and he turned to Jirou. "Oh gods, I'm sorry... please tell
me he already knew..."
Jirou's lips twitched, but it was Atobe who laughed. "Don't be foolish
Shishido, this is me we're talking about," he said, leaning back against the
seat and crossing one ankle over his knee. "I probably realized what was going
on before Jirou did. But yes, he told me some time ago."
Like the way you knew about me before I did? He couldn't quite face that
thought though, even in the privacy of his own mind, so he ignored it. "Why'd
you tell him and not me?" he demanded of Jirou, trying to hide the hurt that
surged through him. Wasn't he just as much Jirou's friend as Atobe was? Had the
two of them somehow gotten that much closer to each other when he wasn't
looking?
"Because he already knew, so I knew he wouldn't freak out," Jirou shrugged
easily, perched on the edge of the seat next to Atobe. "I wasn't sure how you'd
take it, so I didn't say anything." He looked briefly sad. "I didn't want to
lose you. And if you'd found out about me before Ohtori-kun, it might have been
me you were avoiding like that."
"I wouldn't have..." Shishido started to protest, but the looks on the faces of
his two friends put him to shame. "Well, maybe," he admitted grudgingly. It had
been easier to accept the truth about Jirou because he'd already dealt with the
greater shock of Ohtori liking him. "But I'd have gotten over it!"
"It doesn't matter now," Jirou asserted, shaking his head and grinning at him.
"Now you know, and Atobe knows, and you're both still my friends and that's all
that really matters." Shishido and Atobe both nodded, and Atobe reached out to
ruffle Jirou's hair gently.
"You should answer his question, Jirou, it might help him," Atobe said.
"However," he added quickly as Jirou opened his mouth to do just that, "We're
almost to my home. It can wait until we all get up to my room so we won't be
interrupted, and we'll have more privacy there anyway."
"Your room?" Shishido gave Atobe an amused look. "What, are we gonna have a
slumber party like we did when we were kids?" Those were good memories; long
weekend nights the three of them had spent piled together in Atobe's massive
bed, making tents out of the blankets and having pillow fights, talking until
they couldn't keep their eyes open any more and literally fell asleep mid-
sentence. Sometimes Shishido thought those sleepovers had been part of the
reason their friendship had stayed so strong for so long. He couldn't remember
now exactly when they'd stopped, or why, but these days when they stayed over
he and Jirou slept in rooms on either side of Atobe's.
"Why not?" Atobe asked archly, smirking back at him. "The bed is still big
enough for the three of us. Unless you're afraid you'll have an embarrassing
dream? It's still your turn."
Oh right, that was why they'd stopped doing it. They'd hit puberty, and it had
become... well, embarrassing. The first time it had been Jirou, because he was
a good six months older than Atobe and Shishido. He hadn't really seemed to
mind, just been a little bewildered by the whole thing. The second time it had
been Atobe, however, and an embarrassed Atobe is a dangerous creature indeed.
Shishido was just grateful it hadn't happened to him.
Eventually they'd gotten over the utter mortification and come to laugh about
it, even teasing each other on occasion, like Atobe was doing now. But that had
been a couple years ago, and he hadn't thought about it in a while.
Shishido flushed at the thought, and turned to stare out the window, shrugging.
"Whatever," he muttered, though the very thought made his palms sweat.
Considering everything that had happened tonight, it probably would be him who
would embarrass himself. But if he said he didn't want to, the others would
tease him for months about being shy or chicken.
"It's not a big deal," Jirou proclaimed, shrugging and yawning, his excitement
apparently starting to wear off. "We probably all will. We're fifteen. So who
cares, right?"
Both Shishido and Atobe gave him wry looks for that. Then they caught each
other doing it, and both started laughing. Trust Jirou to have such an odd, yet
simple perspective on the whole thing. If it happened to all three of them,
rather than all three of them being embarrassed, in his mind it was logical
that therefore none of them would be.
Hell, maybe he was even right. If they all did, none of them could point
fingers, right?
Still, damn it, you weren't supposed to be willing to just let another guy see
you in that state. It was embarrassing! One thing to talk and laugh about
dreams you'd had, or look at magazines and pictures together, or just generally
participate in locker room talk. But to actually witness your male friend in
the midst of a dream like that, or the aftermath, it just wasn't done.
Kinda like it just isn't done to be thinking about your male best friend while
you're dreaming... or jerking off? his mind taunted him, and he sank a little
lower in his seat. His world had been a hell of a lot simpler four months ago.
Why did life have to get so damned complicated?
Thankfully before one of the others could ask him about his renewed bad mood,
the limo pulled to a stop in front of Atobe's house. Of course, Shishido
belatedly realized as he climbed out of the car, that just meant he was that
much closer to the moment when they started asking what had made him so upset
in the first place. Stomach roiling, wondering if he dared ask to sleep in
'his' room after all, he followed Jirou and Atobe up the stairs.
"Oh, stop it Ryou, you look like we're dragging you to your execution," Atobe
sighed in exasperation when he reached the top and looked back to see Shishido
dragging his feet. "We're your friends, and we're supposed to be helping you,
remember? We can't do that if you don't tell us what's going on. And while I
will accept your word that you didn't speak to Ohtori, it's fairly evident that
something happened."
Well, that was true in principle, but Shishido so did not want to talk about
what had actually happened. "Look, I just... I ran across them, and they were
kinda... occupied," he muttered as they all trailed into Atobe's sitting room,
which connected to his bedroom. The blush on his cheeks was red enough to rival
Mukahi's hair.
"Ohtori and Amano, you mean?" Atobe raised an eyebrow, and Shishido nodded
miserably. He'd told them both about what Amano had said to him in the library,
so it wasn't like they didn't know about the relationship. "I take it they
weren't just kissing?"
Shishido nodded miserably. "Yeah, just a bit. I mean... not... they weren't...
but it sure as hell was more than I ever wanted to see!" He shuddered at the
memory, but it wasn't entirely revulsion.
Something must have shown on his face... or maybe it was his earlier question
to Jirou that gave away his conflicted feelings. From the corner of his eyes he
caught his two friends sharing another of those significant glances that always
pissed him off so much, but this time he just sighed.
"C'mon, Ryou, let's go to bed," Jirou said, wrapping his arm around Shishido's
slumped shoulders and hugging him. "Keigo and I'll help you sort everything
out. It's easier to talk about stuff like this in the dark in bed, you'll see."
Despite the fact that almost everybody called Jirou by his given name, the
sleepy boy so rarely used anyone else's that it always felt strangely warming
when he used Shishido's. He followed the gentle but insistent tug towards the
bedroom, Atobe trailing after them looking both amused and concerned.
"Wait, how do you know it's easier to talk about stuff like this in bed?"
Shishido balked abruptly, staring suspiciously at Jirou. The smaller boy
laughed softly.
"Because that's how I told Atobe about me, of course," he said, shrugging. "It
wasn't as bad as I thought it would be." He cast a grin over Shishido's
shoulder at their third friend, who was laughing softly.
"I knew something had to be up," Atobe said as he moved to his dresser and
grabbed sleeping pants for all of them. "Not only did he call me and ask to
sleep over, without you, and not only did he ask to stay in my room even though
we hadn't done that in a year, but then he actually stayed awake past the
moment when his head hit the pillow."
Shishido had to laugh at that, though it was more a release of tension than
anything else. They changed quickly, and he caught himself watching from the
corner of his eyes to see if Jirou was watching him or Atobe. After all, if he
were changing in a room full of girls, he'd be peeking. Didn't it stand to
reason Jirou would in this situation?
He didn't, though. He just changed and hopped into the massive bed, snuggling
into the down comforter with a happy little exclamation that made Atobe laugh
again. Shishido followed more slowly, wondering what that meant. Maybe it meant
Jirou wasn't really interested in guys, but just thought he was? But why would
he think he was, if he wasn't?
Gods, it was all making his brain hurt. Atobe climbed in on the other side
after switching out the lights, putting Jirou between them, and it was as if
several years suddenly dropped away and they'd never stopped doing this.
Shishido grinned despite himself, listening to the noises of his two bedmates
settling themselves.
"So how did you know, Jirou?" he asked before the smaller boy could fall
asleep.
"Mm?" Jirou made a sleepy noise, and yawned. "Well, it wasn't hard to figure
out. Considering how often I was dreaming about you or Atobe. Or other cute
guys. And then I asked Atobe to kiss me, just to be sure."
For a long moment Shishido's brain refused to process that, insisting that he
must have heard wrong. "You what?" he finally blurted out, staring.
"I asked Atobe to kiss me," Jirou repeated patiently. "To see what it was like.
I figured if I wasn't really interested, it wouldn't feel like much."
"And you agreed?" Shishido asked incredulously, lifting up slightly on one arm
to stare at Atobe over Jirou's body. Guys were not supposed to ask guys to kiss
them. Not even Jirou, innocent naive little Jirou who could say things that
would get anyone else killed. And guys were not supposed to agree to kiss guys
that asked them to!
"Well, I did warn him that it was hardly a fair comparison, since nobody else
could possibly measure up to my skills," Atobe murmured, amusement clear in his
voice. His eyes and teeth gleamed in the dim light as he smirked up at
Shishido. "But he decided it was worth the possibility of being spoiled for
anyone else."
Gaping, Shishido just kept staring for a long moment. "But, it was just an
experiment, right?" he said, his voice coming out more plaintive than he'd
meant it to. All right, Ohtori had a crush on him, he could accept that.
Mostly. And okay, Jirou had thought of him that way, it was kind of flattering
if more than a little weird. But Atobe too?
"Why?" Atobe asked, raising an eyebrow at him, his voice becoming even more
smug. "Did you want me to kiss you too, to be fair?"
"You are such an asshole," Shishido replied, collapsing back down and wishing
he could just smother himself in his pillow. Or maybe smother Atobe, that would
work almost as well. "Is it something in the water? I mean, what the fuck?"
Jirou giggled sleepily, and Atobe laughed. "Does that mean you don't want me
to?" Atobe asked, mock hurt in his voice. Shishido fished one of the smaller
pillows out of the massive pile against the headboard, and flung it in Atobe's
general direction.
"No I don't want you to kiss me!" he all but howled, wanting to rinse his mouth
out at the very thought. Kiss Atobe? Gods, it would be like kissing his
brother. If his brother was an even more annoying, smug, pain in the ass than
he already was.
"Too bad," Jirou commented from where he was snuggled into a pillow. "You don't
know what you're missing. He's a really good kisser." Then he chuckled. "Though
he's right, I guess. You might be spoiled for anybody else if you try."
"Good thing for you I'm willing to keep indulging you, hmm?" Atobe asked, once
again amused. Shishido thought he saw Atobe run his fingers through Jirou's
hair, and a bunch of things finally clicked for him.
"Whoa, hey, waitaminute," he protested, bolting upright and staring at them.
"How often exactly do you two do this?"
"Whenever I come over and you're not here," Jirou said, blinking sleepily up at
him as if confused by the sudden outburst. Which, actually, he probably was.
"Honestly, Ryou, I've never met anyone as slow on the uptake as you," Atobe
muttered, rolling his eyes. "It's not as if we've been hiding it, even if we
haven't gone out of our way to make any announcements. At first I thought you
were deliberately ignoring it to avoid causing problems in our friendship,
until I realized you didn't have the faintest clue about Ohtori's crush on you
either."
"It's the water," Shishido muttered again, flushing as he took in the way that
Jirou was pressed rather closer to Atobe than he was to Shishido, and the way
Atobe's hand rested lightly on Jirou's hip. "It's gotta be the water. In the
showers or something."
"Nah," Jirou yawned and grinned at him. "It's something in the stuff they pave
the courts with. Comes up in the air when you impact it. 'S why people like
me'n Muhaki are more obvious about it... we're shorter, closer to the ground
where it's stronger, and we spend a lot of time flat on our asses when we're
practicing new moves."
That surprised Atobe into a laugh, and even Shishido smiled reluctantly. He
found that his overwhelming emotion at the moment was hurt. The three of them
had always been so close, had always done everything together. Granted, he'd
been spending more time with Ohtori and less time with them last term, so he
supposed he was at least partly to blame for the separation between them. But
they were close now in a way he would never be with them, and he was jealous
despite not being actually interested in either of them.
"Nothing's changed, Ryou," Jirou said softly, as ever the sensitive one of the
three of them and the glue that held them all together. "We're just growing up,
is all. We're still friends, that'll never change. And if you wanted to, you'd
be welcome, right Keigo?" he glanced over his shoulder, and Atobe shrugged.
"But we're not really the ones you want," Jirou concluded quietly. "Right?"
Shishido thought about the events of that night; how he'd felt watching Amano
go down on Ohtori, how the look on Ohtori's face and the exquisite noises he'd
made had affected him. He thought about the fantasy he'd jerked off to, and how
many cold showers he'd taken lately to avoid exactly that situation. He thought
about how much he hated Amano, even though the pianist was clearly a good
friend and boyfriend to Ohtori, and made him happy.
He thought about how he would react if Ohtori came to him and asked to
'experiment' to find out if he was interested in boys. Four months ago it would
have freaked him out past bearing. Now...
Now...
He sighed, and slowly settled back down, looking over at his two friends almost
wistfully. "No, you're not," he agreed softly. There was nothing else he could
say.
***** Chapter 10 *****
If there was one thing Shishido had never expected to be doing, it was standing
outside Ohtori's front door trying to work up the nerve to ring the bell. And
trying not to hyperventilate while he was at it.
It wasn't just that he'd never expected to need to be this nervous about facing
Ohtori, it was that he was unused to being this nervous about anything. He'd
gone through most of his life with confidence in himself and his ability to win
whatever he wanted. The only other time in his life that he'd been this nerve-
wracked had been when he was facing Sakaki, begging for his spot on the team.
Well, there were a lot of parallels between that situation and this one. He'd
fucked up, he'd learned his lesson the hard way, and now he had to somehow earn
forgiveness he really had no right to. Winning Ohtori back as a friend was
absolutely no less important to him than getting his spot on the team back had
been.
And that thought alone would have told him how very important the junior had
become to him, even if he hadn't had his comfortable state of denial forcibly
ripped away from him.
Finally he took a deep breath and steeled himself. Reaching out, he punched at
the doorbell almost viciously, listening to it echo inside the big house
through the door.
After being friends with Atobe all his life Ohtori's family's wealth didn't
exactly impress him, though he'd been a little startled the first time he'd
visited his partner's home and realized how well off he was. Unlike Atobe,
Ohtori never made a big deal about his circumstances, preferring to succeed
based on his own merits.
There was no sound of a response for a good minute or two, and Shishido reached
out to ring the bell again. Also unlike Atobe, Ohtori's family didn't keep
live-in servants. It was possible nobody was home; he hadn't exactly called
ahead, not wanting to warn Ohtori he was coming.
Just as he heard the sound of running footsteps from inside, it belatedly
occurred to Shishido that not calling ahead also meant it was entirely possible
that Ohtori would be there - with Amano.
Before he could change his mind and bolt, the door flew open to reveal a rather
breathless Ohtori, who was already apologizing before he actually realized who
was standing there. "I'm sorry, I was in the back of the house and I didn't...
hear..."
The junior trailed off and gaped at Shishido with wide eyes, his hand going
white-knuckled on the doorway. If there was one person Ohtori had not expected
to find on his doorstep, it was his former doubles partner. For a long moment
they just stared at each other, both of them trying to deal with the riot of
emotions caused by confronting the other.
After a frantic moment, Ohtori finally managed to gather his scattered wits. He
drew himself up to his full height and looked down at Shishido, pulling the icy
demeanour around him that had always helped him in the past to deal with things
that hurt him. "Was there something I can do for you, senpai?" he inquired,
voice frosty but perfectly polite.
It had the intended effect; Shishido winced visibly. He couldn't remember
Ohtori ever referring to him as just 'senpai' since Shishido had first asked
for his help in training. It was a message as clear as a shout that Shishido no
longer had any special place in Ohtori's affections; he was just another senior
who had once been in the tennis club, one of literally hundreds.
"Choutarou..." his own voice was husky, struggling to hide both hurt and panic.
He'd known this was going to be hard, but blessed kami he hadn't realized how
difficult it would be. Dealing with the 'Ice Prince' act up close and personal
was much more painful than facing it from across a crowded hallway.
Hearing Shishido use his given name only made Ohtori's shoulders stiffen. The
only person outside his family who called him that now was Kazuya, and it
actually made him a little angry that Shishido still presumed that kind of
familiarity with him. When the senior didn't seem about to continue, Ohtori
chilled his voice a few degrees further and narrowed his eyes in warning. "If
there isn't anything, I really have homework that I should be getting back to.
If you'll excuse me." He started to shut the door, feeling oddly like he was
severing the last vestiges of their relationship as he did so.
He wasn't the only one who felt that way. "No, wait!" Shishido cried, his hand
shooting out to grab the edge of the door, preventing Ohtori from closing it
all the way. They stared at each other again, frozen brown eyes to panicked
blue, and Shishido swallowed hard. "Listen, I... I need to talk to you." Even
as the words came out of his mouth, he was shaking his head. "No, that's not
right, damn it. I need to apologize to you."
Ohtori's tight grip on the door loosened somewhat in shock. If Shishido had
ever apologized to anyone, Ohtori certainly hadn't been witness to it. Don't
let him in, he's only going to hurt you again, the suspicious part of his mind
whispered at him. Something about the sheer desperation in Shishido's eyes
overrode his common sense, however, and he found himself reluctantly stepping
back out of the way. "Come inside before the cat gets out," he sighed, raking
one hand through his silver hair.
Torn between terror and hope, Shishido stepped inside and kicked his shoes off,
letting Ohtori close the door behind him. He had no idea if Ohtori had meant
for him to come any farther into the house than the genkan, but maybe if
Shishido came in anyway, Ohtori would be too polite to just kick him out again.
"Is your family home?" he asked the younger boy awkwardly. Is Amano here, was
what he really meant, but he couldn't just come out and ask that. Thankfully,
the taller boy shook his head.
"No, I'm alone for the day," Ohtori admitted, turning to go further into the
house and gesturing for Shishido to follow him. If they were going to have this
conversation - or perhaps 'confrontation' would have been a better word - he
wanted to do it on his ground. Since he'd turned away, he missed the flash of
pure relief that flitted over Shishido's expression as the older boy trailed
after him.
"You'll have to pass my greetings to them," Shishido murmured, sighing softly.
He honestly did like Ohtori's family, and they'd seemed relatively fond of him
on the occasions they'd met him. But all the same, he was just as glad they
weren't here to overhear the shouting that was potentially going to result from
this.
Ohtori was thinking much the same thing, if Shishido had only known it. He led
the way up the stairs to his room even though the living room would have been
more neutral territory, because he wasn't sure exactly when his parents or
sister might be getting home. He wanted privacy for this.
Having Shishido in his room again after so many months of not even speaking to
the older boy felt distinctly odd. Ohtori gestured for Shishido to precede him
inside, then closed the door once he'd entered as well. Leaning against the
wall next to the door, he folded his arms over his chest, as much to hide the
trembling in his hands as to look disinterested. "So? Talk," he said flatly,
his voice not warming in the least.
With a sigh, Shishido turned the desk chair around and collapsed down into it
backwards, his arms hooked over the back. He was using it as a shield and he
knew it, and moreover he knew Ohtori recognized it too. But it did make him
feel a little better, so he clung to it. "You're not going to make this at all
easy on me, are you?" he asked, a bit ruefully.
Eyes hardening, Ohtori gave him a disbelieving look. "Is there any possible
reason why I should?" he snapped back, shifting his weight slightly. Did
Shishido honestly believe he could just waltz in here talking about an apology
- not even giving one, just talking about it - and Ohtori would revert to his
previous hero-worshipping behaviour?
Looking back at him wide-eyed, Shishido sighed. "No," he admitted, his voice
low and full of self-mockery. "I sure as hell can't think of any."
That startled Ohtori again, because he'd been expecting a very different reply.
Blinking, he studied the older boy, and the outermost fringes of his icy
demeanour began to thaw. Shishido looked miserable, to put it bluntly. The only
other time Ohtori had ever seen him be so harsh on himself was immediately
after he'd been dropped from the Regulars.
"So? Talk," he said again, but this time it was a bit less of a demand and a
little more of an invitation.
Shishido took that as a good sign, and drew a deep breath. "Look, I was an
idiot, okay? An idiot, and an asshole. And I'm sorry. Really, honestly sorry,
Choutarou."
"Yes, you were," Ohtori agreed, eyes flashing dangerously and a hint of warning
joining the ice in his tone. "I'm curious what made you realize it."
Trying not to flinch again - when had Ohtori gotten so good at making Shishido
feel like something that had just crawled out from under a rock? - Shishido
shook his head. "A lot of things. Mostly Atobe and Jirou, and my own damn mind
finally catching up with my hindbrain." That won him a sardonic look from his
former partner, and Shishido sighed. "It was a hell of a shock, you know? I
freaked out. And you can't entirely blame me for that," he added, defensive.
"I'd just had a hell of a bombshell dropped on me, damn it."
"I don't blame you," Ohtori informed him, his voice level but still not warming
at all. "I never did blame you." Throwing blame around never got anyone
anywhere, he'd learned a long time ago.
Hope blossomed in Shishido's face, and confusion. "You don't? But then why..."
"The fact that I don't blame you does not mean that I forgive you," Ohtori cut
in bluntly, his expression forbidding. "Not in the least. That I understand
some of your reasons for doing it does not change the fact that your behaviour
was hurtful, and rude, and totally unwarranted."
Shishido wanted to say something in response to that, to make some kind of
defense for himself, but the words refused to come. Really, what could he say?
Ohtori was right, he had been all of those things, and more.
It didn't matter that he couldn't speak, though, because Ohtori wasn't
stopping. "Did you think you could come in here and apologize, and everything
would be all right again?" the junior demanded, hands clenching into fists
where they were tucked under his arms. "That all it would take was a few
contrite words from you, and things would go back to the way they were before?"
"No!" Shishido burst out, half rising from the chair. "Gods, no. Choutarou,
it's not... I didn't think it would be that easy, no." He shook his head,
struggling to find the right words. He'd had all kinds of speeches planned out
in his head, had thought he had every contingency covered and knew exactly what
to say. All his polished words had flown right out of his head the moment
Ohtori had opened the door, unfortunately.
"Look, it was hard for me, all right?" Shishido said, almost pleaded. He locked
eyes with his former partner, and silently begged the younger boy for
understanding. "I'd never... I tried to avoid thinking about that kind of thing
as much as possible, you know? And then Atobe and Jirou said that stuff about
you having a crush on me. And then you admitted to it. No, let me finish,
please," he added desperately when it looked like Ohtori was going to interrupt
him with more angry words.
Reluctantly, Ohtori nodded and closed his mouth again. Shishido deserved at
least a chance to get his 'explanation' all the way out before he started
tearing into the senior, he supposed. If nothing else, it would give him
further ammunition if he knew exactly where Shishido's perceived weaknesses on
the matter were. Not that long ago, Ohtori would rather have died than ever
cause his partner any pain. Now, he was badly hurt enough to be more than
willing to lash out and deal some hurt in return, given the chance.
"The thing that took me a long time to realize was what really bothered me most
about the whole mess," Shishido continued, each word dragged from him by sheer
effort of will. He hadn't yet admitted the truth out loud, not even to Atobe
and Jirou. Not even to himself, not in so many words. But he had to say it now,
he knew, if he was ever going to have a chance to repair the damage he'd
caused. There couldn't be any more secrets between them.
"Which was?" Ohtori prompted him when Shishido paused to gather himself for the
final confession.
"The way it made me feel to know you thought about me that way," Shishido
forced the words out, ducking his head and lowering his eyes to stare at
Ohtori's feet. A painful blush stained his cheeks, and his hands were white-
knuckled on the back of the chair. "I thought I was straight, damn it. I wasn't
ready to deal with the idea that I was capable of thinking about another guy
like that. When you confessed I was a lot happier about it than I could face
acknowledging, and so I refused to recognize it. I panicked, completely and
utterly. I pushed you and it and everything about it away from me, as far as I
could get, like I hoped if I could just avoid it long enough I wouldn't have to
deal with it. It's that simple."
The words hit Ohtori like lead shot to the stomach, and his breath caught in
his throat. Gods, how often had he dreamed about Shishido saying something like
that to him? How many times had he fantasized confessing his feelings, and
having Shishido admit to being happy to hear his confession?
But it was too little, too late. Far too late. He laughed, the sound harsh and
bitter. "So, what? I hope you didn't expect me to fall at your feet with
gratitude. For one thing, I've gotten over you. I was more or less over you by
the time your birthday came around, and even if I hadn't been your subsequent
behaviour would have severely disillusioned me."
He narrowed his eyes, and dared Shishido to try to argue with him. "For
another," he added coldly, "I already have a boyfriend. One who has never yet
caused me to feel even a fraction of the pain and anguish you put me through.
All I ever really wanted from you was your friendship. I was more than happy
with that. Do you have any idea what it made me feel like when you just
suddenly cut me out like that?" He took a step away from the wall, shaking with
emotion that he refused to allow into his voice. "After promising me that
things would be better between us?"
"I know." The simple words shouldn't have been able to contain such a wealth of
hurt and regret, but the sound of it stopped Ohtori in his tracks. Miserably
Shishido lifted his head again, and looked the younger boy right in the eyes.
"I know," he repeated. "I didn't come here expecting to find a quick fix to
things. And I know you're with Amano." He couldn't quite keep the snarl out of
his voice, but he cleared his throat and hurried on.
"I'm glad he makes you happy, really I am. Choutarou, the only thing I came
here for today was to apologize, and tell you that I know what an ass I've
been," Shishido concluded, grimacing. "And to find out if there is anything,
anything, that I can do to start to make it up to you." He looked up at the
taller boy, his expression becoming pleading again. "I miss you like hell. As a
friend, and a partner. Please, Choutarou. Tell me what I can do."
"I'm not sure there is anything," Ohtori admitted, his voice thick with
emotion. The ice was cracking, unable to bear up under the intense pressure
from within him. He struggled to hold on to it. As long as he kept the ice
around him, he couldn't be hurt further. If he lost it, he would be vulnerable
again.
Abruptly Shishido stood from the chair, and walked around in front of it. When
he was just a few feet from Ohtori, he dropped to his knees, putting his hands
on the floor in front of him and bowing until his head nearly touched them.
Ohtori stared in utter shock as Shishido murmured, "I can't even begin to
apologize enough, Choutarou. But I'll try. I'll keep trying as long as you want
me to. I'll beg if that's what you want. Anything. Just please give me another
chance."
Staring down at him, Ohtori's lower lip trembled slightly. He bit down hard to
stop it, and tasted copper in his mouth as his lip stung beneath his teeth.
Only once before had he ever seen Shishido debase himself like this. He'd never
thought he would see it again. Certainly not for the sake of his forgiveness.
Did his friendship really mean that much to the senior? Granted this wasn't as
public as his begging to Sakaki had been, but Ohtori had the odd feeling that
the setting wouldn't have mattered in the least. Shishido looked and sounded
deadly serious.
"Anything?" he found himself repeating, tasting the word like it was foreign.
Shishido's back was one long line of tension, and Ohtori could almost see ghost
images of the long hair that had fallen over the senior's face the last time
he'd been in this position. The memory gave him an inkling of an idea.
"Anything," Shishido confirmed, daring to turn his head enough to peek up at
his former partner. The younger boy looked more thoughtful than angry now, and
he thought that was a good sign. "I'd cut my hair again, but I think the
symbolism of that was kinda used up the first time around," he offered with a
weak grin. "Besides, there's not much to cut yet."
Despite himself, Ohtori was startled into a brief laugh. "No, I don't think
that would work a second time," he agreed. "It wouldn't be nearly as dramatic
this time."
Considering the prone form before him, he finally came to a decision. "You said
you'd do anything. I once felt the same about you. I offered to give up my spot
on the team for you, do you remember?"
"How could I forget?" Shishido replied softly, his heart clenching at the
memory. When Sakaki had scathingly asked if Ohtori would be willing to give up
his place on the Regulars so Shishido could return, he'd nearly died on the
spot. The idea of anybody willingly giving up his spot had been
incomprehensible to him, let alone the thought of doing it for someone else's
gain.
When Ohtori's soft but firm "I wouldn't mind," had registered, he'd all but
choked on his own tongue. He'd decided then and there that he would make it up
to the junior for everything he'd put him through, no matter what it took. And
their friendship and partnership could be argued to have its true inception in
that moment.
"Would you do the same for me?" Ohtori asked now, his voice giving nothing of
his feelings away. Shishido sat up enough to look up at him, obviously
confused. "If I asked it of you, to prove how serious you are, would you give
up your place on the team for me?"
"But I'm not on the team any more," Shishido protested, frowning. "How can I
give up something I don't have?"
"What if I told you to not join the club in high school?" Ohtori asked, staring
down at him. "You want to play with me again? Fine, you can play with me. And
only me. Would you do it?"
Understanding dawned, and Shishido took a deep breath. "Yes," he said, without
the slightest hesitation. He looked at the surprise in Ohtori's eyes, and
repeated the word more firmly. "Yes. Hell yes. If that's what it takes, I'll do
it. I'll write a letter to the coach telling him not to bother recruiting me."
He grimaced slightly, his mind racing over the ramifications. Atobe would kill
him, and Jirou was going to make those big, disappointed eyes at him that both
Shishido and Atobe had such a difficult time resisting. The thought of not
being able to compete in high school was painful, but if that was what Ohtori
required before he would consider trying to repair their friendship, he'd throw
it all away without a second thought. "Hell, I'll call Atobe right now. If
that's what you want, Choutarou."
He reached into his pocket, fishing for his phone, and Ohtori let out an almost
explosive breath. He really would do it, the junior realized, not without a
sense of awe. Shishido truly was going to give up his dream of playing tennis
in high school, of returning to the Nationals once more. Ohtori knew how very
much that dream meant to the senior; they'd talked about it often enough.
Dropping to his knees in front of the older boy, Ohtori reached out and caught
his hand before he could turn his phone on. "Don't," he said, his voice
cracking. Clearing his throat, he tried again. "Don't, you don't have to call
him. I'll play with you."
"But..." Shishido stared at him, confused again. "You said..."
"Yes, well." Ohtori shook his head slightly, and from somewhere the barest
ghost of a smile played over his lips. "I didn't end up having to give up my
spot, did I? I'll play with you again, Shishido-san. You don't have to give up
your chance at the team."
Belatedly Shishido realized that Ohtori had been bluffing, that it had all been
a test. Drawing a deep breath, he leaned back on his feet, trying to still the
trembling in his hands so Ohtori wouldn't feel it. "You bastard," he said,
though there was no real venom in his voice. "To think I once thought you were
the nicest guy in the whole damn club."
"Don't think this means all is forgiven and forgotten," Ohtori warned him,
dropping his hand when it was evident Shishido wasn't going to try to call
Atobe. His brown eyes flashed, and not all the ice was gone yet. "I'll play
with you, but you're going to have to earn your way back into being my friend.
And it won't be easy." He glared at the older boy. "You broke my trust in you.
You're not going to get that back in a day, or even a month. Understand me?"
"I understand," Shishido nodded, trying not to feel disappointed. In truth, it
was more than he'd expected to get. It was a chance. He just had to make sure
he didn't screw up this time. "I understand, Choutarou, I promise." It finally
occurred to him that he was being awfully familiar to someone he no longer had
the right to call 'friend'. "Uh. Ohtori. Ohtori-kun. Damn it."
Closing his eyes briefly, Ohtori reached for calm. He stood, looming over
Shishido once more. "Choutarou is fine," he said with a sigh. "I think it would
be too weird to have you call me anything else. Just don't make the mistake of
thinking it means I've forgiven you."
"I won't," Shishido promised fervently, scrambling awkwardly to his feet. "You
won't regret this, Choutarou. I swear it. I'm going to make it up to you, and
I'm going to find a way to earn back your friendship it if kills me. You'll
see." Tilting his head, he asked hopefully, "You want to go play a game? We've
got a couple months until the non-school tournaments start, but it's probably
going to take us that long to get our combination back in shape. There's an
indoor court near here, right?"
"Yeah, there is," Ohtori agreed, considering the idea. He did have homework,
but it was the middle of winter break, it could wait. Kazuya was away with his
family for the week, visiting relatives, so he wouldn't be breaking any prior
plans with his boyfriend. He hid a grimace at the thought of the pianist's
likely reaction to finding out that Ohtori was playing with his former partner
again, but he'd deal with that after the other boy got back. Kazuya was
terribly protective of him, and while it was endearing, it could also
occasionally get irritating.
"All right," he finally agreed, offering Shishido a cautious smile. "We'll go
practice."
In that moment they were both thinking more or less the same thing, the
beginning of the return of the synchronicity between them. And maybe, just
maybe, this won't have such a bad ending after all.
***** Chapter 11 *****
"Remind me again why you think it's a good idea to give this asshole another
chance to break your heart?" Amano was curled up on the corner of the bed,
leaning against the wall, a sheaf of music paper in his lap. He wasn't paying
any attention to his half-finished music class assignment, however; his silver
eyes were fixed on Ohtori in an expression perilously close to accusation.
Sighing, Ohtori pulled his racquet out of his bag and inspected it. "Kazuya,
we've been over this," he said patiently for at least the twentieth time that
weekend. "I'm just going out to play tennis with him. That does not constitute
'giving him another chance to break my heart'. It's just a game, just
practice."
The strings were tight enough, but the grip was looking a bit frayed. He
started picking the tape off, stripping the handle so he could redo it. He
didn't look back over his shoulder to meet his boyfriend's eyes; he already
knew what he'd see there.
"What happened to you swearing you were never going to speak to him again?"
Amano demanded, and Ohtori could feel him trying to stare holes into his back.
The taller boy sighed, and fished a roll of grip tape out of the bag.
"That was before he came to beg for forgiveness," Ohtori replied. He wrapped
the new tape smoothly around the bare grip with practiced twists of his wrist,
listening to the odd squeaking sound the tape made. "I never expected him to go
that far." His eyes softened at the memory.
Abandoning all pretense of concentrating on his homework, Amano shoved the
papers aside and moved to perch on the edge of the bed next to Ohtori. "After
everything he did to you, how can anything be enough to make you forgive him? I
saw how badly he hurt you, Choutarou." He reached out and placed one hand on
Ohtori's shoulder, squeezing gently.
With another sigh, Ohtori stopped winding the tape and turned to him. "I
haven't forgiven him," he told his boyfriend seriously. "I haven't even begun
to forgive him. But Kazuya," he bit his lip and shook his head. "You weren't
there, you didn't see him. He was seriously willing to give up playing for the
school in high school, if that was what it took to get me to talk to him
again."
"How do you know he wasn't just calling your bluff?" Amano persisted, concern
joining the accusation in his eyes. "You're too nice for your own good
sometimes Choutarou, and he's got to know you well enough to realize that.
Maybe he knew you wouldn't make him go through with it."
Stubbornly, Ohtori shook his head again. "No. He really was going to do it.
Remember, I've seen him in that position once before. I know what it looks like
when he really is willing to do anything to get something that means that much
to him." There was still a hint of awe in his voice as he thought about it.
"And the only other thing he's ever been willing to beg for was exactly the
thing he was ready to give up for me." He gave the smaller boy a helpless look.
"How could I not at least give him a chance to make things right, after that?"
"I still think you're crazy," Amano said, scowling as he stood to pace. He'd
said the same thing repeatedly over the weekend, ever since Friday night when
his family had returned home and Ohtori had called to tell him what had
happened. Ohtori had come to spend the night in the hopes of reassuring his
boyfriend that he was not in any way returning to his infatuation with
Shishido, but it didn't seem to be helping.
"So you've said," Ohtori replied, trying to make it a joke. His voice came out
sounding more weary than amused, however, and he grimaced. Honestly, he
appreciated his boyfriend's worry over him. Many people in their class thought
Amano was cold and unfeeling, but Ohtori knew it was just that the pianist felt
so deeply about the people he cared about, that he was scared to let himself
connect to most people. His fierce protectiveness of Ohtori was just an example
of that. But it did get wearing after a while.
"I just don't want to see you hurt again, damn it!" Amano exclaimed, turning
back to him in frustration. "Gods, Choutarou, I thought you were never going to
get over him last time. I don't want to see you go through that again!"
A pang of guilt went through Ohtori, and he set the half-finished racquet aside
and stood. The 'last time' had been after Shishido's birthday, and a lesser
person than Amano would have left Ohtori then. After all, they'd already been
going out for two weeks at the time, and Ohtori had been assuring the pianist
that he no longer harboured any feelings for his doubles partner. His
heartbreak when Shishido had completely cut him out had put the lie to his
words, however, and he'd been horribly sure he was going to lose Amano as well.
Who wanted a boyfriend who was pining after someone else?
Amano had stayed with him, though. He'd never wavered, just held Ohtori through
the worst of it and assured him over and over that it was Shishido's loss, and
not something he was responsible for. Ohtori didn't think he'd have gotten over
the emotional agony of it nearly as quickly without the pianist's help; hell,
he'd probably still be crying himself to sleep at night over his former
partner.
His boyfriend deserved so much more from him than Ohtori could ever hope to
give him. He certainly didn't deserve to have to worry about Ohtori going back
to Shishido, but who could blame him for feeling that way? Though neither of
them had ever said anything out loud, they both knew that if Shishido had shown
any sign of returning Ohtori's feelings immediately after his confession, it
would be the senior that Ohtori was with now.
How could he not be worried that the same thing was still true, and Ohtori
agreeing to play with Shishido was just the first step in the senior wooing him
away? No, Ohtori didn't blame Amano in the least for feeling insecure. All he
could do was try to answer that fear as best he could.
Reaching out, Ohtori caught the smaller boy's shoulder in one hand, using the
other to tip his chin upwards. Staring down into half-panicked silver eyes,
Ohtori firmly declared, "You don't have to worry, Kazuya. He is not going to
hurt me like that again. He can't."
"How do you know?" Amano insisted, staring back up at him, his lips a thin
white line of tension. "Damn it, Choutarou, maybe he's willing to give things
up now to be with you again, but what happens the next time something frightens
him? How can you possibly be so sure that he won't hurt you again?"
"Because he can't," Ohtori replied, his voice soft but steady. "He can't,
Kazuya." Silver eyes looked up at him in incomprehension, and he shook his
head. "He can't. Because he doesn't have that kind of power over me any more."
He gave his boyfriend a wry grin. "The only person with that kind of hold on me
now is you. So stop worrying. At the moment Shishido-san is nothing more than
my doubles partner. At best, in time he might be a good friend again, but
that's going to be a long time in coming."
This time it was Amano's turn to reach out, as he wrapped his arms around
Ohtori's waist and leaned his cheek against the taller boy's shoulder. "I'm
sorry," the pianist apologized softly. "I know I must be driving you nuts. I
just can't bear to see you hurt like that again. I love you, Choutarou."
"I know." Ohtori nuzzled into the dark, silky hair, breathing in the scent of
the shampoo the smaller boy favoured. "I care about you too," he replied
softly. His words weren't as strong as Amano's declaration, and he'd never yet
been able to use words that strong. He was too skittish, after what had
happened with Shishido. But that didn't make what he felt any less real, and
words weren't all that important anyway. What was important was what Ohtori
did, and he wasn't going to do anything that would make Amano doubt his
feelings.
Glancing at the clock over Amano's shoulder, Ohtori winced. "I have to go, or
I'm going to be really late," he declared, pulling away a bit. Before the
smaller boy could protest or pout at him, he leaned down and kissed him
swiftly. "Stop worrying," he commanded firmly, stepping back and reaching down
to grab his racquet. Quickly he finished winding the tape, and squeezed it a
couple times to check the feel of the grip. Satisfied, he shoved it back in his
bag.
"Just be careful," Amano pleaded with him one last time as he prepared to go.
"And call me when you get home, okay? I want to hear that everything went all
right."
"I will, but don't expect it to be soon," Ohtori warned him as his boyfriend
walked him to the front door. At Amano's sideways look, he shrugged and
elaborated, "Considering how badly out of practice we both are, we're probably
going to be playing all afternoon. Just think of how long you and I would need
to practice, if we hadn't touched our instruments in months."
Amano grimaced at the very thought, and Ohtori laughed. They'd reached the
door, and he shoved his feet into his court shoes, bending down to tie them
quickly. "Stop worrying," he commanded once more, still laughing. "I'll talk to
you tonight." Glancing around to make sure none of Amano's family were in
sight, he leaned in for one more quick kiss, and then he was on his way out the
door.
Once outside, he took a deep breath and enjoyed the way the chilly air burned
his throat on the way down. The winter sun wasn't strong enough for him to
actually feel it, but it was shining brightly, the dusting of snow on the
ground just enough to reflect the light back at him and make him squint.
Shifting so his bag was more secure on his shoulder, Ohtori broke into a jog
and was surprised to realize he had a rather stupid grin on his face.
He hadn't been this happy in a long time. Even if his relationship with
Shishido was strictly professional right now, there was still the possibility
that it could repair itself further. He was playing tennis actively again,
something he hadn't realized how much he'd missed until Shishido had apologized
to him last week. His music was better than ever thanks to the way he'd had to
push himself to keep up with Amano's sheer talent, and instead of pining away
over an unrequited crush, he had a loving boyfriend. Other than the still
somewhat rocky relationship with Shishido, Ohtori couldn't think of a single
thing in his life that he would want or need to improve.
By the time he reached the building that housed the indoor courts near where he
lived, the burn in his lungs and legs was starting to get to him. He paused
outside the door, walking slowly back and forth as he panted to get his air
back. Grimacing, he stretched out a muscle that was threatening to cramp in his
calf. He was sorely out of condition, and it was really showing in his games
with Shishido. He still believed leaving the tennis club had been the right
decision for him to make, but he obviously needed to spend more time making
sure he didn't get entirely out of shape.
Once he had his wind back he made his way inside. Reassuring Amano had taken
him a while, and for once he was the one who was late to meet Shishido instead
of the other way around. Although, he admitted with an amused grin, Shishido
had obviously been making an extreme effort to get to all their arranged
meetings on time.
This would be the fourth time they'd played since Shishido had apologized a
little over a week ago. Ohtori had the feeling Shishido would have been happy
to suggest playing ever day, the way they'd done over the last school break,
but Ohtori had been too wary to agree to that. He didn't want to rush into
this, or try to act like nothing had changed and they could just return to
their previous behaviour patterns. He'd meant what he said about Shishido
having to earn his trust back, and he didn't want either of them to forget it.
Shishido was already waiting for him in the court they'd reserved, hitting a
ball repeatedly against the wall. He turned as the door opened, and offered
Ohtori a grin. "Hey, Choutarou! What'd you do, sleep through your alarm?"
"Unlike some people, I'm not inclined to sleep in past lunch even if I don't
set an alarm," Ohtori replied with a small smile in return. "I got into a
conversation with Kazuya that turned out to be longer than I'd expected, that's
all. I'm sorry for being late."
He didn't miss the hint of shadow that flickered through Shishido's dark blue
eyes at his boyfriend's name, but the older boy only laughed and shrugged.
"Can't be helped, I guess," Shishido commented easily, and only someone who
knew him as well as Ohtori would have been able to read the hidden resentment
in his eyes.
It wasn't the first indication he'd had that Shishido didn't like his
boyfriend. Ohtori ignored this one as he had ignored all the others, dropping
his bag on the bench beside the court and fishing for his racquet instead. It
was odd to have their positions so thoroughly reversed; not only was Shishido
now the one who had to go seeking him, but now it was Shishido harbouring the
unrequited feelings for Ohtori. Small wonder he resented Amano; the pianist
both 'stole' Ohtori's time from him, and was the recipient of the taller boy's
affections.
It didn't take much to get Ohtori to admit to himself that he'd have been far
more than just 'resentful' if Shishido had been the one to start going out with
someone, last term. Given the senior's temper, Ohtori was actually a little
surprised that resentment was all he had to deal with. Well, Shishido knew full
well that he had only himself to blame for losing his chance with Ohtori, and
what was more, he knew that Ohtori knew it too.
In some ways he was glad that the tables had been turned, that Shishido was now
feeling some of the pain he'd gone through. Perhaps it was petty of him, but
Ohtori couldn't help feeling a bit vindicated. It did make him inclined to be
just a bit more forgiving, though, because he knew exactly how much Shishido
was suffering right now.
Once he'd gotten over his denial of his own feelings, the senior had made no
real attempt to hide the way he felt about Ohtori. At the same time, however,
he'd never done or said a single thing to push his feelings on the younger boy,
something Ohtori was grateful for. It really was an exact reversal of their
previous relationship, except that they weren't nearly as close and Ohtori was
aware of how Shishido felt.
"You ready?" he asked as he shoved some balls in his pockets and moved to one
end of the court. Shishido nodded, twirling his racquet on the end of his
finger as he waited for Ohtori to get into position. "Are we playing a game, or
just rallying for a while?" the younger boy wanted to know.
"Let's just rally for a while, until you're warmed up," Shishido replied,
dropping his racquet and catching it neatly by the grip. "I think I want a bit
more warming up myself before I have to face that damned serve of yours."
Laughing, Ohtori sent one of the balls over the net in a relatively easy feed,
and they started the rally.
By the end of the time they'd reserved the court for, they'd played three full
games and run through a tonne of exercises, and they were both panting and
dripping with sweat. Ohtori had often heard sub-Regulars and non-Regulars in
the tennis club complain about Atobe's 'brutal practices', and about Hiyoshi's
as well after the seniors had retired. What none of them had ever seemed to
understand was that you didn't get to be a Regular unless you were willing to
drive yourself that hard, and then some. And if he and Shishido wanted to get
their game in shape to have any hope of winning tournaments, they had a hell of
a lot of work to do.
They were improving, though. As he drained his water bottle, Ohtori glanced
over to see Shishido doing the same, and smiled internally. They were starting
to get their rhythm back, and more importantly, their synchronicity. One of
their practice rounds had been a 'match' against the wall, using only half the
court and playing in doubles formation. They'd improved a great deal since that
last disasterous game with Atobe and Jirou.
"Well, we still suck, but at least we're not utterly pathetic any more,"
Shishido commented, echoing Ohtori's thoughts. The senior dumped the rest of
his water over his head, and Ohtori briefly wished he hadn't drunk all of his
so he could do the same. They were both flushed and overheated.
"We really need to do some endurance training, though," he commented ruefully,
handing the older boy a towel before he could ask for it. "You're going to have
to start playing three set matches next year, and it certainly couldn't hurt me
to train for that a year early."
"Be interesting to see how people like Mukahi deal with having to play three
sets," Shishido snickered, shaking his head to rid his hair of the worst of the
water before rubbing the towel briskly over it. "He gets exhausted by the end
of one set, sometimes. Damn, I wish you were in my year. It's a pain that we
have to wait two years to play together again."
"Only in school tournaments," Ohtori reminded him. "There are still plenty of
independent tournaments for us to sign up for. And we won't have to worry about
our team losing even if we win, in those."
"True enough," Shishido agreed, tossing the towel back to him and shoving his
racquet back into his bag. "You want to grab dinner? School starts again next
week, we need to work out some kind of practice schedule. I've got entrance
exams to study for, and you've still got music and stuff, right?"
The invitation was casual; a little too carefully casual, and Ohtori could see
the tension in Shishido's shoulders though he did his best to hide it. So far
their only contact had been tennis, and Ohtori hadn't been encouraging anything
further.
On the other hand, Shishido was right that they needed to work out some kind of
schedule if they didn't want to end up ignoring each other by accident again.
And... maybe it was time, to take that next step. If he wanted them to have any
chance at regaining more than just their partnership, he couldn't keep things
strictly tennis-related forever.
"Yeah, sure," he said, and saw some of the tension leave Shishido. Though he
reminded himself to stay wary, Ohtori couldn't quite keep the smile off his own
face as he added, "The usual place?" When they practiced near Ohtori's house in
the summer, they'd often gone to a ramen stand nearby. Returning there now
after so long away would feel odd. He hadn't yet taken Amano there; it had felt
wrong, somehow. As wrong as bringing Shishido to the concert hall he and Amano
went to most weekends would have been.
The club that had the indoor courts also had change rooms available, and both
Ohtori and Shishido grabbed the chance for a quick shower and change of
clothes. On previous days they'd met to play they'd been going straight home
after so it hadn't mattered, but if they were going out to a restaurant,
neither of them wanted to stink of sweat.
If it had been a few months ago, Ohtori would have been sneaking little peeks
in the shower room; scolding himself the whole time for doing it, but unable to
resist the temptation to add fodder to his fantasies. He'd always been careful
not to go into the showers at the same time as Shishido during club practices,
so he wouldn't be caught looking.
It was the first time they'd showered together since starting to play again,
and Ohtori was a little dismayed to realize he was still tempted to peek. It
was easier to resist the temptation now, but the urge was definitely still
there. Well, he finally consoled himself, it wasn't as if Shishido was any less
physically attractive now than he had been three months ago. Even if Ohtori had
gotten over him, he was still very hot. And Ohtori had successfully resisted
the temptation, that was the important part.
He finished first; Shishido had always liked longer showers than he did, even
after the senior had cut his hair. He wrapped his towel around his waist and
headed back into the change rooms to dress and wait for the older boy. As he
passed by Shishido, however, he was startled to feel that the spray misting
over him from that direction was ice cold.
Without meaning to he looked over at the older boy. Shishido was facing away
from him, leaning under the spray with his forearms against the wall. Despite
the obviously frigid water, Ohtori could tell the senior's cheeks were flushed.
Swallowing, he jerked his gaze away again and hurried into the change room,
grateful Shishido's eyes had been closed. He'd been in exactly that position
too many times not to realize what must have happened; he hadn't always been
successful at avoiding showering at the same time as his partner, after all.
The knowledge that Shishido had been looking at him, and been flustered enough
by it to need to turn the water to ice, flustered Ohtori in turn. He changed
quickly, hoping his blush would fade by the time Shishido emerged. Why couldn't
he have realized he felt this way before? he silently demanded of the universe.
Like at his birthday party, or better yet, before I'd even met Amano?
It didn't matter, he reminded himself fiercely. None of it mattered now,
because Shishido hadn't realized, and Ohtori was over him, physical attraction
issues not withstanding. And he was happy with Amano, damn it.
Well, in all honesty, he would probably always hold a certain amount of regret
over losing his chance at Shishido, not to mention curiosity about what it
might have been like. That was natural enough. It didn't change the way things
were, though, nor the fact that when it came right down to it Ohtori was happy
with things as they were.
He'd managed to control his blush by the time Shishido emerged, and of course
it helped that the older boy was obviously too embarrassed to look at him.
Ohtori obliged him by fussing with the lace of his right shoe, which was
fraying and threatening to snap. It took him a couple minutes to relace it with
a spare lace he kept in his bag, and by the time he was done Shishido was
leaning against the wall and looking at him again.
Glancing up, he noted the faintest traces of a blush still on Shishido's
cheeks, but wisely chose not to think about it, much less comment on it. "I'm
ready if you are," he said instead, swinging his bag up onto his shoulder.
Their eyes met for a moment, and a brief understanding passed between them. I'm
not going to say anything if you don't. Then Shishido turned away with a
slightly awkward shrug and a laugh that was only a little strained. "C'mon,
lets go find out if our ramen guy is still there in the winter."
***** Chapter 12 *****
Leaning back in his chair, Ohtori stretched his arms up over his head, reaching
up until a couple of vertebrae popped in his neck and upper back. Sighing as
some of the strain on his shoulders and neck was relieved, he dropped his arms
again. He'd been studying for hours, ever since he'd gotten home from his
latest practice match with Shishido. He hadn't even taken a break for dinner,
just run downstairs to make a couple sandwiches and bring them back up to his
room.
Well, this was what he got for spending pretty much every waking moment either
playing with Shishido or training on his own, or practicing music, or just
spending time with his boyfriend. While he and Amano sometimes studied
together, they tended to get distracted easily.
The exams for this term were coming up fast, though. Hyoutei held theirs at the
end of January, and Ohtori wanted to be sure to do well enough to make it into
the 3-1 class next year. Not that it really mattered, since he'd quit the
tennis team and the seniors weren't allowed to participate in the orchestra at
all, but he wanted to live up to his parents' expectations of him.
At least things were finally starting to pull together for him and Shishido.
They still didn't spend much time together outside of tennis, maybe going for
food once in a week, but their game was rapidly returning to the level they'd
been at in the summer. They weren't National level, not yet, but Ohtori was
starting to feel like he might be willing to find another pair to play against,
to test themselves.
Tension between them was still high; both from the stress their friendship had
gone through, and tension of another sort all together. Ohtori couldn't deny
that he was still attracted to Shishido, even if his entire world didn't
revolve around the senior any more. It came out in odd moments, usually when he
wasn't expecting it, when they were just laughing and playing around on the
courts. He would glance over and catch a particular longing look in his
partner's eyes, and feel his own body flush with awareness in response.
It made him feel guilty, like he was cheating on Amano, even though he had no
intention of following through on his body's urgings. It was just hormones, and
Shishido wasn't even the only other person that he found attractive. He had no
more real reason to feel guilty about reacting to Shishido than to, say, Atobe.
But he did, because of the history between them. He just couldn't help it.
What was more, he had a feeling Amano was picking up on his guilt, though the
pianist hadn't yet said anything about it. His boyfriend had been very touchy
and insecure lately, needing constant reassurance and affection from Ohtori to
convince him that he still held the silver-haired boy's attention. Ohtori was
doing his best to meet that need because he was well aware that it was his own
fault the pianist was feeling so uncertain of him.
Hopefully as time went by and Ohtori continued to remain steadfastly faithful,
Amano would relax. At least he'd already stopped constantly fussing about
Ohtori getting hurt again, when it became evident that Shishido really was
doing his best to win Ohtori's friendship back.
Glancing at the clock, Ohtori blinked. And then swore, scrambling for his
tennis bag in search of his phone. It was past eleven; not only was it later
than he'd meant to stay up, since he had morning practice tomorrow with Sakaki
and Amano, but he'd also completely forgotten that he'd promised to call his
boyfriend after he got back from the game with Shishido.
That had been hours ago. He fished the phone out of his bag and flipped it
open, stabbing the speed dial button to call Amano. Gods, the other boy was
going to be so mad...
He was a little surprised, therefore, when the only emotion in Amano's voice as
he breathlessly answered seemed to be concern. "Choutarou? Where are you, what
happened? Are you okay?"
Now Ohtori felt more than just a little guilty for forgetting. Amano had
answered after only one ring; had he been keeping his phone on him, getting
more and more worried when Ohtori didn't call? And yet he hadn't phoned Ohtori,
probably because he knew that would have seemed too much like he was jealously
checking up on his boyfriend.
"I'm so sorry, Kazuya," Ohtori apologized sincerely, flopping back onto his
bed. "I forgot to call you! I was so focused on getting all my English homework
done it just completely slipped my mind. I've been home for hours."
"Gods! Choutarou, how could you?" Now came the anger he'd expected at first;
Ohtori winced. "Do you have any idea how worried I've been? I thought maybe
he'd done something again, that you were too upset to call."
"No, just horribly distracted," Ohtori sighed and rolled onto his back,
shielding his eyes from the light with his arm. "There was no need for you to
be so worried, though. Honestly, Kazuya, I would think it would be obvious by
now that he has no intention of hurting me again. Quite the opposite."
There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Kazuya sighed. "I'm
not sure that doesn't worry me more. How long have you been back? Have you been
studying all this time? Your neck must be about ready to break. You shouldn't
study for so long at a time."
"I've been studying since I got home, but it's not as long as you're thinking,"
Ohtori answered. "I didn't get home until almost seven."
"What?" He could hear the surprise in his boyfriend's voice. "I thought that
indoor court near your house closed at five on Sundays? Did you go find a...
what did you call them? Street court?"
"No," Ohtori chose his words carefully, aware he was treading on dangerous
ground here. He hadn't actually told Amano about the times he and Shishido had
gone for food after a game. "We went to get something to eat, we were both
starving and we wanted to look at the tournament schedules."
There was an ominous silence, and Ohtori struggled not to sigh. He understood
Amano's jealousy and couldn't entirely blame him, but it did get difficult to
deal with at times. "I thought you said you were keeping things strictly to
tennis?" the pianist asked, and Ohtori couldn't mistake the chill in his voice.
"I did say that," Ohtori agreed easily. "And it was related to tennis. But
Kazuya, you knew all along that I was planning to allow him to try to rebuild
the friendship and earn my trust back. That's hardly going to happen if I
refuse to associate with him off the courts in any way."
"Choutarou!" The strident protest made Ohtori wince again. "Damn it, I knew he
was going to try something like this. Don't you see what he's doing? He's
trying to win you over, and I don't just mean your friendship. He's finally
realized what he's missing, and now he's trying to steal you back!"
"He's not trying to steal anything, least of all me." Somehow Ohtori managed
not to snap, to keep his voice level. They'd already had this discussion
several times, and each time it became less a 'discussion' and more an
'argument'. "He knows I'm going out with you and he respects that. He certainly
knows me well enough to know that I would never cheat on you. And even if he
was trying to woo me away, it wouldn't work."
"Can you honestly tell me you're not interested in him any more?" Amano's voice
was slightly bitter, and Ohtori started to protest. Damn it, he was over
Shishido. The infatuation was dead and buried.
"I'm not talking about the crush you had on him," the pianist cut him off
before he got more than the first indignant syllable out. "I'm just talking
about interest. Are you seriously telling me you're not attracted to him in the
least now?"
"Of course not." Ohtori sighed and sat up, leaning against the headboard and
raking his free hand through his hair. "Even if I did tell you that, you
wouldn't believe me, and you'd have good reason not to. He's still as
physically attractive as he ever was. Of course I'm still attracted to him." He
figured that in this case it was better to be blunt than try to lie. "But that
doesn't mean anything, Kazuya. It's just hormones. Whether it's him, or someone
else from the tennis team, or that cute flautist you and I both drool over, it
doesn't mean anything."
"You don't spend hours alone with any of those other people every weekend,"
Amano snapped back, overwrought. "Not to mention the days you meet after
school. Gods, Choutarou, I feel like he sees more of you than I do, and I'm
your boyfriend!"
"You make it seem like some kind of sordid clandestine assignations," Ohtori
replied, stung. "It's not like we're meeting somewhere private and secluded,
Kazuya. We're playing tennis on a public court, and then going to an equally
public restaurant to eat afterwards. It's not as if he's asking me out on
dates." Lowering his voice, he added, "You sound like you don't trust me alone
with him."
"Can you really blame me?" The angry words hung between them, heavy and
painful, and Ohtori couldn't stop the little shocked gasp from escaping him in
response. For a long moment neither of them said anything, just listening to
the other breathe over the phone.
"Choutarou," Amano finally ventured hesitantly, contrite. "I'm sorry, I had no
right..."
"No, you had every right," Ohtori cut him off. His tone was weary more than
anything else. "Considering what happened the last time you left me alone with
him, at his birthday. I can't blame you. You have no reason to trust me." Amano
had nothing to say to that, and Ohtori sighed.
"I'm asking you to trust me anyway," he added softly. "Please, Kazuya. Tennis
is important to me. Almost as important as music. I can't give it up, not even
for you."
"I'm not asking you to give up tennis!" Amano replied, frustrated. "I would
never do that, Choutarou. I just don't understand why you have to play with
him."
"Because my strengths lie in doubles, not singles," Ohtori explained for at
least the hundredth time since this whole mess had started. "I'm a decent
singles player, but I'll never go very far with it. One of my best abilities in
tennis is that I'm good at synchronizing with and anticipating a partner."
"So why can't you find a different partner?" Amano demanded. "He can't be the
only other doubles player at Hyoutei. Let alone outside the school."
"Of course he's not." Grimacing, Ohtori searched for a way to explain it that
would finally drive the point home for good. "No more than I'm the only
violinist at Hyoutei. But would you have been just as willing to play our duet
with Kazamaki?" he asked, naming the second chair violinist. The other boy was
a good musician, but not at Ohtori's level.
"It's not the same thing," Amano argued heatedly. "He's nowhere near as good as
you are. Nobody in the school is. But yes, I'd be willing to play with someone
else at your level, and I have in the past. There must be other players as good
or better than Shishido out there. He was dropped from the team because he lost
a game in a tournament, wasn't he?"
"Yes he was," Ohtori agreed. "There are better players than him out there.
Atobe-san and Jirou-san are both better at singles than he is. Oshitari-san is
probably a better doubles player in general. But that's not the point." He
shook his head. "Most good tennis players can play doubles. Playing doubles
well is another matter, but there are lots of decent doubles players out there.
The trick is that you have to find someone who's not just good, but who can
match you. Someone who plays up to your strengths and covers your weaknesses.
Someone who can predict and anticipate you so well they never have to look to
see where you're going to go, to guess whether you're going after a ball or
intending to stay back to cover the other side of the court.
"That kind of trust and communication is what gets you Nationally-ranked," he
continued fervently. "It's what wins tournaments. Shishido-san and I had that
last season, and we're building it again now. I've never found anyone else who
matches me half as well as he does. And sure," he cut off the expected
objection before Amano could make it, "there are probably other people out
there who would be as good a match for me as he is. But how would I find them?
And once I did, then what? They'd be from another school, because I guarantee
you there is nobody else in Hyoutei that can play with me as well as he can.
What would happen when we made it back onto the team in high school, and had to
face each other in a tournament?"
There was silence for a long moment as Amano digested that. Finally Ohtori
heard his boyfriend sigh. "I don't like it," the pianist muttered resentfully.
"I'm not ever going to like it, Choutarou. I don't trust him and I never will."
"I'm not asking you to like it, Kazuya." Contrary to popular belief Ohtori's
patience was not endless, and he was approaching his limit at the moment. "I'm
only asking you to accept it. This is important to me. I am going to play
tennis, and I refuse to do less than my best. That means I need Shishido-san as
my partner. I would no more want to play a match with someone else than I would
want to perform a concert using one of the school's spare violins instead of my
own."
Again there was a long silence, and finally the pianist sighed. "All right," he
said grudgingly. "All right, fine. It's not like I can stop you."
"No, you can't," Ohtori agreed implacably, and he heard a stifled sound of
anger on the other end of the line. "You're my boyfriend and I care a great
deal for you, and that means that your wants and needs are high on the list of
things I consider when making my decisions. But they're not the deciding
factors, and in this, my wants and needs dictate that I have to go against your
wishes. I'm sorry, but that's the way it is."
"Then I guess there's nothing more for us to say about it." Amano's voice was
stiff and cold, but Ohtori could hear the deep hurt hovering beneath the chill
formality. He knew better than most people how to read past the ice, because he
and Amano had exactly the same defence mechanisms. It was the same reason Amano
had been able to sense Ohtori's pain at the start of the term, and had come
forward to befriend him and try to help him deal with Shishido's apparent
disinterest.
If he could have, Ohtori would have done just about anything to avoid hurting
Amano like this. But he didn't have a choice, not if he wanted to stay true to
himself. There was only so much he could compromise on before it stopped being
a compromise and started being submission. "No, I guess there's not," he said
softly. "I'll see you in practice tomorrow."
"See you then." The sound of the dial tone was abrupt, and Ohtori sighed deeply
as he shut off the phone. Usually he and Amano would talk much longer before
bed, and they almost never hung up without Amano telling Ohtori he loved him.
The lack was rather glaring this time.
They'd argued often enough before, both being strong-willed and fairly stubborn
about getting their own way. Many, if not most, of their arguments had centered
around Shishido. But this felt more like a 'fight' than an 'argument', and
Ohtori found his heart was aching more than he would have expected.
It was almost midnight now, and he got up to strip out of his clothes, pulling
on a pair of sleep pants and turning out the light before he returned to the
bed. He set his alarm, then snuggled down under the covers, settling into his
accustomed sleeping position.
And found himself wide awake, staring at the room illuminated by the dim glow
of the numbers on his clock. Sleep refused to come, his mind churning over that
phone call and refusing to give up and let him rest. He kept playing it over in
his mind, trying to find some way he could have made it go better, or conceive
of an argument to use later that would finally sway Amano to his side.
What he really needed, he acknowledged ruefully, was someone he could talk to
about the whole mess. Sometimes, especially when his emotions got too involved,
Ohtori knew he could get too close to things and not be able to see the forest
for the trees, so to speak. Right now Amano was his primary confidante and
sounding board, however, and for obvious reasons he couldn't exactly go to his
boyfriend with this problem.
Maybe Atobe or Jirou could offer him some insight? Despite his anger at them
for interfering with his relationship with Shishido, he knew they'd meant well
and didn't really blame them.
It was late, though, he reminded himself. Jirou would have been sound asleep
for hours, and even Atobe would have retired for the night by now. Of course,
the seniors didn't have to worry about studying or getting up for morning
practices, so it was possible they'd be staying up later...
He found himself reaching for the phone, and sighed. He wasn't going to get to
sleep tonight until he'd talked to someone, that much seemed certain. Hopefully
Atobe would forgive him.
Listening to the phone ring, he held his breath. If the senior was asleep, it
was possible he wouldn't hear or answer his phone. Of course, he might be woken
by it, in which case he might be rather put out. But for all his airs and
affectations, Atobe had been a good captain, and Ohtori knew the older boy
genuinely cared about the welfare of his players, so maybe he wouldn't mind the
interruption too much.
Just as he was about to give up, there was a click as someone answered. Ohtori
started to ready his explanation for why he was calling in the middle of the
night - and then every single thought flew right out of his brain as a far too
familiar voice growled irritably, "This better be fucking good, Atobe. It's
past midnight!"
Ohtori's mouth worked, but no sound came out. His heart was pounding in his
throat; maybe it was blocking his voice. He'd meant to call Atobe. He'd been
certain that he'd hit the number that would dial Atobe's cell. Hadn't he?
Atobe's button was nowhere near Shishido's, though. His subconscious mind must
be playing tricks on him. Before this whole mess had started, it had been
Shishido that Ohtori would have called under these circumstances.
He was seriously tempted to just hang up and pretend it had been a wrong number
or something when the older boy snapped, "Who the hell is this? Do you know
what time it is?"
Unfortunately the manners Ohtori's family had drilled into him wouldn't let him
hang up without at least apologizing for calling the wrong number and waking
his senpai. "Shishido-san, I'm so sorry," he gasped at last. "I... I didn't
mean to wake you..."
"Choutarou?" There was a rustle and a yawn on the other end, somewhat muffling
the surprise in his partner's voice. "Sorry, I thought you were Atobe. Didn't
figure there was anybody else with the balls to call me this late at night."
"I'm sorry," Ohtori apologized again. "I really didn't..."
"Nah, it's okay," Shishido cut him off. "What's up? Is something wrong? You
sound kind of upset."
An odd sort of warmth trickled over Ohtori's chest at the evidence that
Shishido still knew him well enough to be able to tell that over the phone.
"It's nothing, really. I just... I didn't actually mean to call you, I guess it
was just..."
He floundered, but Shishido seemed to understand. "You were upset, so you
called me without thinking about it?" the senior asked softly. "Hey, I don't
mind. I'm a little surprised it was me you'd turn to, though, and not Amano."
Ohtori flushed at the question implied in the older boy's words. "It's not
really something I can talk to him about," he mumbled, sinking deeper into his
covers as if that would hide his embarrassment from Shishido.
There was a soft chuckle on the other end. "It's about him, huh? You guys have
a spat?"
"Something like that." The words come reluctantly; some part of him was aware
that he really shouldn't be talking to Shishido of all people about his
problems with Amano. Not only would his boyfriend flip out if he ever found
out, but it wasn't really fair to Shishido, either. "Shishido-san, I
shouldn't..."
"Don't worry about it," Shishido cut him off once more. He'd always been good
at heading off Ohtori's 'needless apologies', as he put it. "Seriously,
Choutarou, I'm sure it'll be fine. You don't sound upset enough for it to have
been an all-out fight. It'll blow over. No relationship is perfect all the
time."
"I know," Ohtori agreed softly, sighing. "But I still shouldn't be talking to
you about it."
"I'm gonna go out on a limb here and guess that I'm what you were fighting
about?" Shishido said wryly. Ohtori made a noise that was part laugh and part
snort, and Shishido chuckled again. "Not exactly a leap of logic, is it?" There
was a pause, then Shishido added gruffly, "Look, I know I'm not exactly the
most unbiased person on the subject. You've probably figured out by now that I
don't like him much. But... but he's made you happy, and I know he cares about
you a lot. So I'm sure he'll get over it. In time he'll understand that there's
no way you would do anything behind his back, so he's got no reason to be
jealous."
It surprised him more than a little that Shishido was capable of putting his
own feelings aside like that to reassure him. It told Ohtori more loudly than
words or promises ever could have that Shishido really did care a great deal
about him, and was dedicated to making things up to him. Ohtori bit his lip and
tried not to sniffle.
"You wanna talk about it?" Shishido offered, probably hearing the soft sounds
Ohtori was making. "I may be biased, but I can listen well enough without
influencing you. Sounds like you could use a shoulder to unload on."
"I can't," Ohtori said, more firmly this time. "It's not fair to either of you.
But thank you, Shishido-san."
He started to add that they should hang up and go to sleep, though he was quite
certain that sleep was still a long way away for him. Talking to Shishido had
only exacerbated the problem. However, his partner beat him to it. "So, let's
talk about something else," the older boy said glibly. "If you can't unload it,
the best thing you can do is distract yourself and get your mind off it."
"But it's after midnight!" Ohtori protested, aghast.
"Yeah, so?" He could hear the grin in Shishido's voice. "Not like I need to be
awake in class tomorrow. I passed the ascension exams with flying colours.
Nobody in the senior classes is paying much attention to lectures now. I'll
just take a page from Jirou's book and nap through class."
Scandalized, Ohtori nevertheless laughed softly at the idea of his partner
snoring away obliviously, following in the footsteps of the team narcoleptic.
"It's not fair that you're all done your exams," he complained. "The end of
year exams are coming up way too fast for us. I never seem to have enough time
to study."
"So maybe you should start bringing your textbooks for us to look at when we go
to eat after practice," Shishido suggested. "Least I can do is make up for all
the time I'm stealing by helping you study. What's your worst subject?"
Before Ohtori realized what was happening, he found himself pulled into a
discussion of his worst classes and what he was doing to study for them. From
there they ended up debating the relative merits of different study methods,
which turned into a laughing argument of whose favourite subject was more
useless, his or Shishido's.
It was so easy to fall back into their old behaviour patterns. If someone could
have pulled Ohtori outside the conversation and asked him, he'd have said that
they were talking as if nothing had ever come between them. It felt good to
talk to Shishido like this again, and Ohtori found himself reveling in it.
When he had to break off talking to yawn for the third time in one sentence, it
finally occurred to Ohtori to wonder how long they'd been talking. "Gods, I can
hardly keep my eyes open," he murmured, his words slurred by exhaustion. "What
time is it?" He couldn't focus enough to read his clock.
"Uh..." There was the sound of rustling, then a groan. "A little past three."
"What?" Ohtori's dismayed exclamation was interrupted by another yawn. "I have
to be up at six to get to school in time for practice."
"Sucks to be you," Shishido replied unsympathetically. "Morning practices are
definitely one thing I don't miss. At least it's not tennis practice... you
won't get laps for falling asleep on the courts."
"Want to bet?" Ohtori replied with a snort. "Sakaki is the music teacher too,
remember? I swear sometimes he almost forgets which practice he's at."
Shishido laughed, and was also interrupted by a yawn. "Damn. I should let you
sleep. Feeling better?"
"A lot," Ohtori agreed, realizing he did indeed. He would definitely be able to
sleep now, and not just because he was exhausted. "Thank you, Shishido-san."
"Hey, Choutarou," Shishido sounded suddenly serious. "Listen... I know our
friendship is still on the rocks, and believe me I'm not making the mistake of
thinking this conversation means you've forgiven me. But I want you to know, no
matter what, I'm always here for you if you need me. For a shoulder to lean on,
or someone to listen, or just a distraction, doesn't matter. No strings, no
assumptions, I promise."
"Shishido-san..." Ohtori's voice caught in his throat, and he coughed to clear
it. He hadn't expected that, though he probably should have. It was Shishido's
way; he was intensely loyal to his friends and the people he cared about, and
would do just about anything for them. "I won't forget," Ohtori said at last,
his voice still a bit choked with emotion. "And the same is true in reverse."
"Good." There was satisfaction in Shishido's tone, but it wasn't in the least
smug. "Sleep well, Choutarou. I'll see you in a couple days at our next
practice, if I don't run into you in school before then. And don't worry, I'm
sure you and Amano'll have things worked out pretty much as soon as you see
each other again."
"Thank you," Ohtori repeated. "Sleep well, Shishido-san. I'll see you soon."
They hung up, and this time as Ohtori set the phone aside and snuggled into his
pillow, he felt nothing but a sort of relaxed contentment. It took him almost
no time at all to fall asleep, the memory of Shishido's warm, rough voice
replaying itself over and over in his head as he drifted off.
***** Chapter 13 *****
There were indoor courts at Hyoutei of course, but most captains chose to
continue working the club outside if the weather permitted it. Ohtori had heard
various theories over the years as to why that was; some said it was because
working in the cold air was supposed to be good for your endurance, others that
it was sort of like the way Buddhist monks would train by standing under
freezing waterfalls for hours.
Most people just agreed that it was sheer sadism on the part of the captains,
however. And Hiyoshi was obviously no exception.
Ohtori stood outside the fenced area, watching the practice with a feeling of
wistful nostalgia. Some part of his subconscious mind was tugging at him,
telling him that he was obviously late for practice and needed to go get
changed now, not hang around waiting to be noticed and yelled at. His lips
twitched as he heard Hiyoshi shout "Regulars! Ten laps!" and his body almost
turned to start running automatically.
Beside him, Shishido laughed softly. "Old habits die hard, don't they?" At
first Ohtori thought his partner had seen him start to move, until he looked
over and saw that Shishido had actually taken the first step towards where the
group in Hyoutei jerseys had started running.
"At least it was only Hiyoshi," Ohtori offered with a laugh. "If it had been
Atobe's voice, we probably would be running now."
Shishido opened his mouth to answer, but was beaten to it as a familiar voice
barked from behind them, "Shishido! Ohtori! You're late, five laps!"
Both of them dropped their bags and started to move, their bodies and
subconscious minds trained to follow that voice's commands without question.
Ohtori caught sight of Atobe standing with his arms crossed a few feet behind
them, a smirk on his face. Beside him Jirou was leaning on him for support; not
because he was sleepy for once, but because he was laughing so hard there
wasn't even any sound coming out.
"You bastard," Shishido swore, stopping before he'd taken more than a few steps
and glaring at their former captain. "You just couldn't resist, could you? What
the hell are you doing here, anyway?"
"I was wondering that myself," Hiyoshi said, raising an eyebrow as he came up
to the low wall that separated the courts from the bleachers they were all
standing on. "I don't suppose you're back to ask to rejoin?" he asked Ohtori,
though it was clear he didn't expect a positive answer.
Chuckling, Ohtori shook his head. "No. Dear gods, no. It's been hard enough for
Shishido-san and I to get our game back together, the last thing I need to do
is sabotage us by trying to play with someone else as well. We wanted to know
if you'd let us play your doubles teams. It'll be good training for them, and
tell us whether we're actually good enough to start signing up for tournaments
in the spring."
"You decided to start entering the non-school tournaments?" Hiyoshi looked
thoughtful. "Huh. I guess that's not a bad idea, since you can't play together
again in school for a couple of years. And you're right, it would be good for
my doubles players. They're getting overconfident." He cocked his head
curiously. "Why not just ask Mukahi-senpai and Oshitari-senpai, though?"
"First, because we already know their style inside and out, and how to seal all
their special moves," Shishido replied, scooping his bag up from where he'd
dropped it and handing Ohtori's over to him. "Not that they wouldn't be a
challenge still, but we need to be sure we're capable of dealing with new
things, not just pairs we already know." He grinned. "And second, because I
don't think they've been doing a hell of a lot of training since the seniors
retired. We'd probably run circles around them."
"I wouldn't be so sure of that," Atobe cut in smoothly. "You may have been
foolish enough to let yourself get out of training, Shishido, but not all of us
are so short-sighted. Admittedly I haven't seen much of Mukahi, but Oshitari
has come over to play me several times."
"Still, they haven't been training as a pair," Ohtori said. "With school
tournaments, more often than not the doubles pairs are mixed up all the time,
to make sure they can still play with anyone. There are strong pairings who
tend to play together more often than not, but even Seigaku's Golden Pair
played with other people more often than each other in the tournaments last
year." He shrugged. "But we're going to be facing other people like us, who
have been training hard for months with specific partners. Oshitari-san and
Mukahi-san won't have that kind of synergy any more, if they haven't been
playing together for a while."
"Yeah, we found out how easy it is to lose your sense of each other, even after
only a month," Shishido grimaced. "And before you get huffy, Atobe, it's the
same reason we didn't just ask to play you and Jirou again. We need to practice
against a doubles pair, not a pair of good singles players who are capable of
working together."
"Sounds reasonable to me," Jirou agreed, finally catching his breath and
peering at them in amusement over Atobe's shoulder. "I still want to get to
play you guys, though! It wouldn't hurt to play with us sometimes, right?"
"Of course we'll play you sometimes, Jirou-san," Ohtori couldn't help but smile
at the older boy. "But frankly, if we haven't improved as much as we think we
have, I'd rather find out against people who don't know us than by embarrassing
ourselves in front of you and Atobe-san again." Jirou snickered and winked at
him, and Ohtori laughed.
Atobe had been studying the two of them; not quite in his 'insight' pose, but
just watching them observantly. His ever-present smirk became something closer
to a real smile. "I don't think you're going to have any problems," he told
them. "Your communication has improved in leaps and bounds. Your body language
is much closer to the way it was when you played together last year... if
somewhat reversed." The smirk returned, and Shishido swatted irritably at him
as Ohtori blushed.
Clearly out of the loop and having no idea what was being discussed between the
lines, Hiyoshi just shrugged. "Go get changed, you can use the locker room...
the non-Regulars one," he added, as both Ohtori and Shishido automatically
started towards the much newer building that housed the Regulars' lockers and
equipment. "Meet me back here, I'll tell my players."
As Jirou and Atobe settled into place on the bleachers, picking the spot that
would give them the best view of the court Hiyoshi had gestured at, Ohtori and
Shishido trotted to the clubhouse. "It's going to feel strange to play here and
not be in our jerseys," Ohtori remarked to Shishido, who laughed.
"It's gonna be weirder to be using the non-Regulars' change room," the senior
countered. "Never thought I'd set foot in there again after I got back on the
team. Never wanted to."
"Well, we can't expect special privileges when we're not even in the club, let
alone on the team," Ohtori replied, chuckling. They reached the door and made
their way inside. The main room was huge, rows and rows of lockers and shelves
taking up most of the space.
There were a couple of people inside; with more than two hundred people in the
club, it was inevitable that there would always be someone with a broken
shoelace or some other problem that required them to duck into the locker room
briefly. The club members stared at Ohtori and Shishido curiously, and Ohtori
heard a couple of excited whispers break out as they were recognized.
"Looks like we're still famous," he commented to Shishido as they both dropped
their bags on a bench and started to strip down to the shorts and shirts they
were wearing under their track pants and jackets. They'd chosen the end-of-
month Saturday practice to make their request, so they would be able to focus
entirely on the game for the day and not have to worry about classes.
"Or infamous," Shishido grinned at him, folding his outer clothes haphazardly
and putting them on the bench. He checked to make sure his shoes were tied
tight and Ohtori did the same. Then they grabbed their racquets and water
bottles and headed back to the courts.
Unsurprisingly, a large group had already gathered around the court where they
were to play. Ohtori thought Hiyoshi was wise for allowing it; if he tried to
force the rest of the club to ignore it and keep practicing, they would be
resentful of the missed opportunity. And they would be right to feel that way;
this would probably be the kind of game they could learn a lot from watching.
They'd already done most of their warming up before coming near the tennis
club; now they set their equipment down on one of the benches and started doing
a few last stretches under the watchful eyes of the club. "You two ready?"
Hiyoshi asked, walking over to them.
"Pretty much," Shishido agreed as he leaned on Ohtori's back to help the taller
boy stretch out fully. "Who're we playing?"
"My D1 pair, Shinohara and Takato," the captain informed them. At their
surprised looks, he smirked at them, looking eerily like Atobe for a brief
moment. "Did you think I'd give you someone easy so you could walk all over
them? You said you wanted a challenge. I'm not going to let you show up my team
and make them look bad."
"On your head be it, then," Shishido laughed and straightened, offering Ohtori
a hand up. Ohtori accepted it and let his partner help him to his feet. "We're
still gonna walk all over them, and then you won't have the excuse that they
weren't your best pair to fall back on."
Smiling, Ohtori shook his head at the senior's bravado. The fact was, neither
of them was entirely sure just how good they were at this point. Solo practice
could only tell you so much, and although they felt like they were back in
synch, they could have been mistaken. Part of him thought they should have
tried playing someone like Atobe and Jirou first, just to test themselves, but
Shishido had been insistent.
Well, perhaps he was right. As he retrieved his racquet and walked to the net
to shake hands with their opponents, Ohtori could feel adrenalin pumping
through him, energizing him until each step felt almost like he was bouncing.
It was the challenge that was motivating him, the thrill of facing the unknown
and unpredictable. This was exactly what they'd be dealing with in the
tournaments; pairs they knew nothing about and couldn't work out strategies for
beforehand.
They bowed and shook hands with the two juniors. Both had been in the sub-
Regulars when Ohtori and Shishido had still been on the team, so he knew them
by sight, but he'd never really trained with either of them. He could see the
burning determination on their faces; the look in their eyes that promised they
were going to do whatever it took to come out on top. Beating the previous
year's D1 pair would do wonders for their reputation... if they could do it.
Ohtori realized he had a rather predatory grin on his face that probably pretty
much matched the one he could see Shishido wearing. The juniors might go down
fighting, but they were going down. He had a good feeling about this match.
All around them the club members were chanting at the top of their lungs, the
familiar 'Katsuno wa Hyoutei' - 'The winner will be Hyoutei' cheer that Ohtori
knew so well. Since Ohtori and Shishido were no longer members of the team the
chant was technically supposed to support only their opponents. But Ohtori had
walked out onto the court with that cheer at his back too many times not to
feel buoyed by it now.
They won the spin, and chose to receive first. They'd discussed their basic
strategy as they'd warmed up earlier, and agreed to save Ohtori's Scud Serve
for the last games, if they used it at all. Winning their service games by
simple expedient of a serve that couldn't be returned was all well and good,
but wouldn't help them if they came up against someone who could return the
Scud Serve. Ohtori could practice his serve easily enough any time he wanted
to. What they needed now was practice in actually playing.
As they moved to take their positions, Shishido reached out as if to clap
Ohtori on the shoulder, the start of their familiar pre-game ritual. He paused
just before he made contact, his dark blue eyes searching out Ohtori's gaze and
asking silently whether it was still appropriate.
It wasn't, really. The things that ritual had symbolized were no longer
relevant. Ohtori shook his head slightly, and saw Shishido's expression fall.
Before the senior could turn away, however, Ohtori offered his hand in a high
five.
Shishido hesitated, searching his eyes. Finally the predatory smile returned
and he smacked Ohtori's hand, catching it and holding on for a long moment.
Their hands tightened around each other's, and a new ritual was born. We can
take on the world. Bring it on.
The first couple of rallies were almost cautious, as both pairs tried to get a
sense of what their opponents were capable of. Shishido took the first point;
Takato took the next two, and then Shishido scored twice more to give them the
advantage.
At that point, Ohtori could see that the two juniors were mostly focusing on
Shishido. The senior played close to the net, and his style was more than
flashy enough to draw attention to him. Ohtori had returned a few balls, but
hadn't yet scored any points or really even given them something that was
difficult to return. Despite the fact that he and Shishido were ahead, the
juniors were becoming more confident and had begun to dismiss Ohtori as nothing
more than baseline support for Shishido.
Grinning, Ohtori decided it was about time to disabuse them of the notion.
Shishido evidently had the same thought; as the ball came back at them low and
fast over the net, he saw his partner start to bolt for it.
Anyone else would have thought that Shishido had misjudged the speed of the
ball and was seriously trying to return it. Ninety percent of the time a ball
that low to the net would be a short return, and it would be up to the dash
specialist to catch it and volley it back. Difficult enough since he was on the
other side of the court and had to run to meet it, but this ball was coming
fast and hard and was actually going to be a deep shot, landing right near the
baseline.
Even as he started moving Ohtori saw the smirks spreading over the juniors'
faces as they thought they'd won the point. Shishido was moving fast enough to
get to the ball in time to return it, but only barely; it would be a sloppy
return and they would easily be able to fire it back into the opposite corner
for the point.
Just as he drew even with the ball, Shishido stepped forward as if he were
going to try to lunge for it... but didn't even try to bring his racquet
around, keeping it poised to one side as he smirked at the juniors across the
net. Before the two younger boys realized he hadn't ever meant to return it the
ball was past him, hitting the ground just inches in front of the baseline.
And arcing up to smash straight into Ohtori's racquet, where he'd raced across
the back of the court to meet it. They hadn't even seen him coming, too focused
on Shishido's dash to pay attention to him. He returned it just as hard and low
as it had come to him. The other two had both been up near the net, the better
to return what they'd assumed would be Shishido's clumsy volley. Instead the
ball blew straight past both of them and landed in the far corner before going
out.
"Game, Shishido-Ohtori," Hiyoshi called from the chair at the side. He'd chosen
to ref rather than playing bench coach to his players. "One game to love.
Change court."
There was a lot of muttering from the club members around them. Some of it
sounded shocked and surprised, but for the most part everyone there had been
present to see Shishido and Ohtori's victory against Seigaku, and also their
later games in the Nationals. Shinohara and Takato were giving them dirty looks
as they moved around to the other side of the court, and Shishido laughed and
clapped Ohtori on the shoulder.
"Nice going, partner," the senior said, and Ohtori grinned back at him.
"Not bad yourself," he replied, brown eyes sparkling with excitement and the
flush of victory. They could do this. He'd predicted Shishido's move
flawlessly, and Shishido had known without looking that Ohtori would be where
he needed to be. They had their synchronicity back.
The rest of the match was hardly a cakewalk, and they dropped a fair number of
points to the juniors. The score climbed steadily in their favour, however; the
other two boys did their best to learn their lesson and remember to watch for
Ohtori, but Shishido was just too good at drawing attention and being a
distraction. Not to mention scoring points in his own right; his Rising Counter
was stronger than ever, and he'd added a few new tricks to his repertoire that
he and Ohtori had worked out together.
Even in Shishido's service game, when it was Ohtori playing up at the net and
Shishido at the baseline, they held strong. Because his serve was so strong and
he tended to leave the net play up to Shishido, most people forgot that Ohtori
was a serve and volley specialist. His volleys were viciously fast and
accurate, and his long legs let him cover the whole net area easily. Anything
that made it past him - or, more accurately, that he allowed to make it past
him - was met by Shishido's Rising Counter. They didn't drop a single point in
that game.
After that, with the score at 4-0, they switched to Australian formation. Until
that moment they'd been playing in the standard doubles configuration, but
they'd regained enough confidence in their pairing to attempt some of the more
difficult formations. They pulled it off flawlessly, and Ohtori could see the
effect it had on their opponents, demoralizing them badly.
They took that game without dropping a point as well. Facing an opponent so
capable of throwing you off your game was a downward spiral; the more
confidence the two juniors lost, the worse they were playing, and therefore the
more confidence they lost. Short of a miracle, at this point it was a given
that Ohtori and Shishido were going to win the set in straight games.
And it would take a very impressive miracle indeed, because the sixth and
likely final game was Ohtori's service game again.
He glanced at Shishido, who grinned back and nodded at him. The two juniors had
started out playing well, but they weren't providing much of a challenge any
more. There was no reason to drag it out. "Let's end this, Choutarou," Shishido
murmured in verbal confirmation of Ohtori's thoughts.
Smiling back, Ohtori bounced the ball at the service line a few times, waiting
for the other pair to get into position. Clearly desperate, they were trying a
more advanced formation of their own, a variation on the Australian. Ohtori's
smile widened. It wasn't going to help them.
As his arm came up for the toss, he began the familiar chant. "Ikkyu..." The
words narrowed his focus, helping him put all his concentration into the
motion. He didn't even hear the startled and anticipatory gasps from those who
heard and recognized the words, or the ragged cheering that was starting.
Feet there, racquet arm just so, and let the ball drift almost gently from his
fingertips at the top of the throw. It didn't spin at all, arcing high in a
textbook perfect toss. "Nyu..."
Back arched, all coiled tension; knees bent and feet braced for the lunge. The
ball reached the top of its flight and started back down again, gravity an
insurmountable force tugging at it. "Kon!" Ohtori's racquet snapped up and
forwards, all the considerable strength in his back and shoulders slamming it
into the ball.
It was one of the best Scud Serves he'd ever done. He could feel the ball on
the strings of his racquet like a living thing, squarely in the center of the
sweet spot. As it sped away from the impact and his body followed through on
the serve, he finally dropped his head to watch its progress over the net.
It took a sharp eye and a lot of experience to even be able to see a well-
executed Scud Serve, let alone return it. Both Takato and Shinohara had seen
him play in the tournaments, had known what was coming when they heard the
familiar chant. Still neither of them was able to do more than blink before the
ball had impacted hard on their side of the court, right in the corner of the
'T'.
"Fifteen-love!" Hiyoshi called into the silence that followed the sound of the
ball hitting the court. A roar of astonished noise followed the declaration,
and their opponents looked shaken. Ohtori smiled in satisfaction, and Shishido
grinned back at him over his shoulder. Even those who had seen it before were
surprised; Ohtori had broken 200 km/h even before he'd resigned from the team,
and now the Scud Serve was faster than ever.
After that, it wasn't so much a game as a rout. The juniors tried their best,
but they couldn't even catch up to the serve fast enough to try to return it.
Ohtori was fully confident that even if they had managed to catch it, it would
have blown their racquets right out of their hands. There weren't many people
strong enough to return a serve that hard.
The final score for the set was six to love for Ohtori and Shishido, and their
opponents dropped to their knees, panting in exhaustion. Ohtori and Shishido
were both sweating and breathing hard, but were nowhere near as badly off as
the juniors. They'd been training with an eye to playing three set matches in
the future, and it showed in their improved endurance.
Shishido pumped his fist once in a gesture of triumph, then turned and all but
flew across the court to catch Ohtori in a tight grip on the shoulders that was
almost a hug. The gesture was forceful enough that it knocked his cap off,
revealing his sweat-soaked shaggy hair beneath. "We did it! Choutarou, we did
it! We are so back in action!"
Laughing, Ohtori reached up and ruffled his partner's hair with his free hand,
making Shishido growl and swat at him playfully. "We certainly did, Shishido-
san," he agreed, his eyes shining with no less a sense of victory than Shishido
was displaying.
The cheers were almost deafening, even as the other club members spilled onto
the courts to console the losers. Ohtori and Shishido were surrounded by a
swirl of excited people, all babbling questions and congratulations at them in
an incomprehensible swell of noise. Jirou was right in the middle of the pack,
bouncing up and down in full hyper mode, and Ohtori saw Atobe smiling
indulgently at the edges of the pack. Atobe caught him looking and nodded once,
the stamp of his approval. Their former captain thought they were ready as
well.
"All right, enough!" a deep voiced shouted from the back of the crowd. Sakaki
strode forward, scowling at the rowdy mass of tennis players on the courts.
"Non-Regulars, back to your drills. Regulars, ten laps for ignoring your own
training, and then meet in the clubroom to go over the game."
Ohtori flushed as he saw that Sakaki was holding a video camera. He hadn't even
seen his coach and music instructor on the sidelines, but somebody must have
run to get him when the match was first announced. The thought that their game
was going to be picked apart and used as an instruction tool for the Regulars
made him both embarrassed and proud.
He couldn't help but wince as he saw Sakaki approach the defeated D1 pair,
however. A year ago, he knew, the two would have been dropped from the team
without question. Contrary to the rumour going around the junior-high tennis
circuit, Hyoutei Regulars were not dropped just for losing a match, and never
had been. For one thing, the only person on the team who'd never lost a game
was Atobe. A practice like that would have run through the entire two-hundred
member club in short order, unless they never played any games even to train.
However, a crushing 6-0 defeat would get you dropped. That was what had
happened to Shishido in that fateful game against Tachibana of Fudoumine last
season. Ohtori held his breath, wondering if Hyoutei was about to lose one of
their doubles pairs before the tournaments had even started. Shishido's return
to the Regulars had changed things a great deal, but only in that it was no
longer impossible for a dropped Regular to return to the team if he improved
enough. The standards for keeping your place on the team were still high.
Sakaki surveyed the two juniors for a long moment, as they stood with their
heads bowed before him. "You're very lucky that was neither an official game
nor a ranking match," the coach finally declared. "I expect much better of my
players. You're on probation, and dropped to the D2 spot. Now go run your
laps."
The sighs of relief from the juniors was audible even as far away as Ohtori
was. Probation meant they would be dropped for any loss, not just a total
defeat, but at least they still had a chance. They turned and started running,
their steps staggering a bit with exhaustion from the tough game.
"Good job," Sakaki said, turning now to Ohtori and Shishido. Ohtori
straightened and his eyes shone at the rare praise, and he saw Shishido smile
beside him as well. "You've both improved. I'll be watching you at the
tournaments." With that he moved to go oversee the drills, and the two boys
turned to grin at each other rather like idiots.
"We'll all be watching," Atobe echoed their former coach, deigning to smile at
them. "You'd best do Hyoutei proud."
"We will," Ohtori said firmly. "We've finally got our game together again, and
there's nowhere to go from here but up." It was the best feeling in the world,
the heady sensation of a flawless victory. He didn't make the mistake of
thinking that every game they played would be this relatively easy, but if they
could take on Hyoutei's D1 pair and win, then they really had a chance.
There was only one thing marring his triumph; he wished Amano could have been
there to see it. He'd invited his boyfriend to come watch the game, but the
pianist had begged off. He'd cited his utter lack of understanding of the game
as his excuse, which was true enough, but it wasn't like tennis was that hard
to follow. Ohtori knew the real reason was that Amano didn't want to be
anywhere near Shishido.
Well, perhaps it was for the best. It probably would have been awkward anyway,
having Amano watching as Shishido pounded his back and all but hugged him in
triumph. Ohtori thought maybe it was something you could only understand if you
played in competitions at this level; the sheer exuberance that overtook you
when you won. There was nothing sexual about it, but given how touchy his
boyfriend was in regards to Shishido, Ohtori would no doubt have had to spend
the next several days trying to placate the pianist.
Shaking his head, he pushed all thoughts of his complicated love life aside.
Right now, he just wanted to revel in victory, and join in the laughing and
teasing flying between Shishido, Atobe and Jirou. He'd worry about Amano later.
For now, he wanted to celebrate.
***** Chapter 14 *****
Unlike Shishido's family, Ohtori's had insisted on actually holding a birthday
party for him, instead of just letting him invite some friends over to hang
out. His protests, no matter how vehement, had gone unheeded. At this point, he
was just grateful he'd at least been allowed to choose the guest list, and that
they did recognize that he was a bit too old for party games.
Also unlike Shishido, Ohtori did not hold his birthday celebration on his
actual birthday. He never did, unless it happened to fall on a weekend, because
there was already far too much stress associated with that day. If he'd had his
way, he'd have spent the majority of his birthdays curled up under his blankets
and ignoring the world.
Well, the female half, anyway. He didn't even like chocolate all that much. Why
had his mother thought that it would be 'cute' for him to be born on
Valentine's day? The way his father told it, his mother had gone out of her way
to do strenuous things that would trigger labour early, even though he hadn't
been due for another couple of days.
Of course, his mother always laughed and swatted at his father when he told
that story, protesting that she'd done no such thing, so it was possible his
father was making it up. But frankly, he wouldn't have put it past his mother
to do something like that.
Instead, the Sunday before his birthday he invited a bunch of people over to
his house - the former tennis team, his boyfriend, and a couple other people
from the orchestra. In all honesty, most of the latter had been invited purely
so that Amano wouldn't be stuck listening to tennis stories all afternoon;
Ohtori wasn't particularly close to anyone in the orchestra except Amano. For
all that the orchestra itself was smaller than the tennis club, it didn't
foster the same sense of closeness that being on the Regulars had.
None of them except Shishido and Amano had been to his house before. His family
was well off even by Hyoutei standards, and most of his friends had been rather
astonished to see where he lived. The tennis Regulars of course were used to
Atobe and his mansions, so it wasn't quite as shocking to them, but he was
still getting some sideways looks from Mukahi and Jirou had babbled about the
house for a good ten minutes before getting sleepy again.
He stood now in the doorway to the back garden, a plate of half-eaten cake in
one hand as he watched the little clusters of people talking and drifting
about. Even though it was supposed to be his party, he wasn't really enjoying
himself. Most of his attention had gone into keeping Shishido and Amano away
from each other; any time they saw each other he got a sense of impending
disaster that was hard to shake.
Maybe it had something to do with the way he could see Amano freezing over
anytime Shishido was even mentioned, or the sound of Shishido growling if he
caught sight of Amano. The fact that his boyfriend and his partner disliked
each other intensely was a severe source of strain for Ohtori, and it was
getting wearing.
"Hey, Ohtori-kun, this cake is really good!" a familiar voice exclaimed from
behind him, and Ohtori's smile was only half feigned as he turned. Jirou was
bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet, his brown eyes wide and a grin the
size of Atobe's ego plastered over his face. Ohtori could only assume it was a
result of the sugar rush from the cake.
"I'm glad you're enjoying it, Jirou-san," he said politely. "Um. Have you seen
Shishido-san or Kazuya anywhere?" He hadn't seen either of them in at least ten
minutes, and it was starting to make him nervous. What if they were somewhere
together?
"I saw Amano-kun talking to your sister in the kitchen," Jirou replied, tilting
his head to one side. "We went in 'cause I wanted more cake, but then Atobe
dragged Shishido off somewhere when we saw Amano-kun." His grin widened
slightly. "I think he went to go 'drill some culture into him' by asking your
mother to show them the rose gardens.
Ohtori breathed a quiet sigh of relief. His mother's prize roses had won
several shows, and the gardens had been featured in half a dozen magazines. His
mother could talk about them for hours, and it wouldn't surprise him in the
least if Atobe actually was interested in that sort of thing. And while
Shishido wouldn't have hesitated to tell Atobe off for dragging him into
something like that, the senior was never anything but polite to Ohtori's
mother. Once she started talking, he'd have been forced to just follow along
and listen quietly.
"Thank you," he said fervently to Jirou, who snickered softly. "And please pass
my thanks on to Atobe-san as well, if I don't get a chance to. I don't know
what I'd have done today without the two of you helping to keep Shishido-san
occupied."
"It was the least we could do," Jirou replied, making no effort to dissemble
about it. His eyes were sparkling with laughter. "Considering how badly we
screwed up at Shishido's birthday party. We figured it was kind of our duty to
make sure things didn't go too badly today."
"Well it's working, so far at least," Ohtori said wryly. "I've been waiting for
disaster to strike all day, but it hasn't yet." He tried to stifle a sigh
without much success. "This would be so much easier if they could at least
tolerate each other."
Somewhat to his surprise, Jirou reached up and patted him gently on the
shoulder. "It's tough on you," the older boy agreed. "But you can handle it.
You're stubborn - as stubborn as Shishido, in your own way."
Laughing, Ohtori nodded. "I have to be, or he'd walk all over me. That wouldn't
be much of a partnership."
"You'll be fine," Jirou predicted, nodding firmly. "It'll all work out in the
end, you'll see. At least you're not fighting with either of them now."
Much, Ohtori mentally appended Jirou's sentence. He and Amano had reached a
sort of cold-war stalemate on the subject of Shishido, mostly by avoiding the
topic of conversation entirely. Ohtori was careful not to ever bring the senior
up, and Amano did his best to pretend the older boy didn't exist. It was an
uneasy truce, and Ohtori knew it couldn't go on forever. Sooner or later one of
them would reach the breaking point, and he had a feeling it was going to be
messy when it happened.
He could only hope that it wouldn't happen today. Not with his family present.
He hadn't yet found the courage to tell them about his preferences, and doubted
he would do so any time in the near future. Maybe later, after he'd moved out
to go to university. The last thing he needed right now was to possibly be
thrown out of his house and lose his tuition to Hyoutei. Not that he really
believed his family would do that to him, but it wasn't worth even the
slightest risk.
But he wasn't going to dump any of that on poor Jirou. He could handle his own
problems, damn it. He was fourteen years old - well, he would be in two more
days, anyway. He needed to stand on his own two feet, and work things through
without relying on others to fix things for him.
At least Shishido was making an honest effort not to bad-mouth Amano in any
way. He also preferred to avoid the subject of Ohtori's boyfriend if at all
possible, but when he sensed Ohtori really needed to talk about it, he wasn't
hesitant to draw the younger boy out about it. And true to his word, he'd done
his best to offer a supporting shoulder without letting his own bias interfere.
Then again, given their respective temperaments, if a blow-up did happen today
he was fairly certain it would be started by Shishido, so maybe there wasn't
all that much difference in the two situations after all. He was just nicer
about it to Ohtori.
"You know, sometimes I think I must subconsciously like having my life be so
complicated," he said wearily. "I certainly go out of my way to do things in
the most difficult way possible. I'm too stubborn to ever take the easy route."
"Life is complicated," Jirou replied with a shrug. "If it's not, then you're
not actually living, you're just drifting. It's the tough stuff that makes it
interesting." When Ohtori stared at him in surprise for that rather deep
statement, the older boy grinned at him again. "Why do you think I sleep so
much? It's to get past all the boring, unchallenging stuff to the things that
are actually worth being awake for."
"You..." Ohtori had to laugh. He reached up to ruffle the shorter boy's hair,
and Jirou leaned into the touch happily like an overeager puppy. "Sometimes I
forget that Atobe-san and Shishido-san don't just keep you around because
you're cute."
"That's okay, everybody forgets," Jirou informed him glibly. "Even Atobe and
Shishido. I don't mind, I think the look on people's faces when I shock them is
funny."
"Somehow that doesn't surprise me in the least." Ohtori mimed smacking Jirou
and the older boy ducked playfully, nearly spilling his cake.
"You should go find Atobe-san," he added when Jirou had rebalanced the
endangered confection. "At least somebody ought to be having fun today."
"Nah, I'm not interested in roses," Jirou shook his head. "I'd fall asleep, and
your mom would probably be insulted because she doesn't know me." Ohtori
laughed again, and Jirou grinned impishly. "I think I'll go talk to Amano-kun.
He should know that not all tennis players are evil... and he's fun, he doesn't
know what to make of me."
"You have spent far too much time around Atobe-san and Shishido-san," Ohtori
told him, shaking his head. "They've corrupted you. I bet you were a sweet,
innocent little child who would never even think of enjoying the fact that
someone didn't know how to react to you."
"Are you kidding me?" Now the impish grin was turned on Ohtori, brown eyes
sparkling up at him. "Who do you think corrupted them?" With that Jirou
scampered off, heading back into the kitchen in search of Amano.
Chuckling softly to himself, Ohtori leaned back against the side of the house
and resumed watching the little knots of people drifting about. Mukahi was
demonstrating his gymnastics prowess to a group of awed musicians, while
Oshitari appeared to be discussing doubles training methods with Hiyoshi. One
of the drummers was over in a corner teaching Kabaji basic beats using an
upside down bowl; Ohtori smiled when he realized the big junior's ability to
copy anything he saw physically done was actually making him a quick enough
study that he was impressing the other musicians in the area. It was nice to
see Kabaji getting a bit of attention for his own sake for a change.
"Well, it's nice to see you smiling for a change, little brother," his sister's
voice came from behind him. He turned to see her coming out of the kitchen
towards him, and she raised an eyebrow at him. "I know you don't like your
birthday much, but you usually enjoy the parties more than this. Why were you
so insistent on mom and dad not doing anything this year, anyway? You've spent
the whole afternoon looking like you're waiting for the other shoe to drop."
"More like waiting for the bomb to explode," Ohtori sighed and gave her a
resigned smile. She was shorter than he was despite being four years older; not
by much, though. She was probably taller than most of the people at the party.
She often teased him that it was supposed to be the little brother who looked
up to the older sister, not the other way around, so he needed to shrink a bit.
"Why, what's the disaster waiting to happen?" she wanted to know, coming out to
lean against the wall beside him. "Everyone seems to be having a good time."
"That's because there are a couple of people, including me, putting a great
deal of effort into making sure things stay peaceful." He raked a hand through
his hair and tried not to sigh again. "I've got two people here who literally
can't stand the sight of each other. One of them has a short temper, and the
other one snarks at people he doesn't like. If they stay in each other's
presence for more than a minute or two I'm afraid it might degenerate into a
fight."
"Why'd you invite them, then?" she asked curiously. "You should have left them
both off the guest list, and if they asked about it you could have told them it
was because they were too childish for you to be sure they'd behave properly.
That would probably shut them up fast."
"I couldn't not invite them," Ohtori shook his head wryly. "One of them is my
best friend, and the other is my partner." It occurred to him belatedly that
telling her this was just asking for her to wonder why the two boys hated each
other so much. Well, maybe he could just tell her they'd gotten into a fight
over something.
"Ouch." She winced and looked appropriately chagrined. "Yeah, that's a pretty
bad situation. I don't blame you for being nervous." She paused, and then
laughed softly. "I wondered why that hyperactive tennis boy was taking such an
interest in Amano-kun. Keeping him busy and away from Shishido-kun, is he?"
"Something like that," Ohtori agreed. He couldn't help smiling again as he
added, "Atobe-san dragged Shishido-san off with him to ask kaa-san about her
roses."
His sister laughed again. "Clever. That will keep him occupied for a while. So
is that why you've been dragging around looking so frustrated lately? Because
the two of them are fighting and it's putting you in the middle?"
Hesitating, Ohtori reviewed his options. While he and his sister had never been
terribly close, he valued her advice a great deal. He'd been badly wanting to
ask her for help with this whole mess, but hadn't figured out how to do it
without giving himself away. "Partly," he answered slowly. "There's some other
stuff going on as well, unrelated to them." He shrugged awkwardly and looked at
her from the corner of his eye, shyly. "Nee-san? Will you promise not to tell
kaa-san and tou-san if I ask you something? They'll just tease me."
She grinned at him, looking delighted. "Girl trouble, huh? It's about time. All
right, I promise I won't tell them. I still owe you for not telling them you
caught me kissing Daisuke in my room last year. What's up? Trying to figure out
how to confess to someone you like?"
"No, I'm kind of past that part," he told her, shuddering at the memory of his
confession to Shishido. At least Amano had been the one who'd confessed to him.
"I wish it were that simple. I just... if you were going out with someone and
one of your friends, a really close friend, didn't like the guy, what would you
do?"
Sharply she asked, "You know you could be expelled if they catch you dating
before high school, right?" He nodded. She had no idea how likely that outcome
was if the school authorities found out about his relationship. "So long as
you're careful," she shrugged. "Not like you're the first person to break the
rule.
"As for your question, I'd like to say that I'd start seriously reconsidering
the guy I was dating," she replied thoughtfully. "Having your friends not like
your guy is often an indication that there's something going on that's not so
good, that you can't see because you're too close to the situation. But in all
honesty, I'd probably ignore them. Nobody who thinks they're in love ever wants
to listen to anything bad about their boyfriend. It would probably make me
worry, though."
"What if the friend who didn't like him was also a guy, though?" Ohtori
persisted. "And you knew he kind of had a crush on you, and that probably the
reason he didn't like your boyfriend was that he was jealous?"
She gave him an odd look, and he realized too late that talking about this
immediately after telling her about Amano and Shishido's feud probably hadn't
been the smartest thing he'd ever done. He was really sticking his foot in his
mouth today. He flushed miserably and looked away from her.
"Choutarou, do you even have any close female friends?" she asked, and his
flush deepened. Before he could blurt out something about the few girls from
the orchestra he'd invited to the party, she shook her head and raised her hand
to stop him. "No, you know what? Never mind, don't answer that. None of my
business."
Breathing a sigh of relief, Ohtori relaxed. She'd always been a very open and
progressive person, at least. And she'd already promised not to tell their
parents about this. "Thank you, nee-san," he said quietly.
"No problem," she replied, giving him a quirky smile. "What are big sisters
for? I don't really know what to tell you, though. I guess you just have to
decide if the friendship is worth the jealousy or not. But remember that this
probably won't be an isolated incident; they'll always be jealous of your,
uh... significant others. It could cause more problems later on."
He nodded seriously, considering her words. She patted him on the shoulder in
an unknowing echo of Jirou's earlier gesture of support. "Just remember,
however bad it all feels like it is right now, it's mostly just teenage angst
blowing everything out of proportion. In a couple of years you'll look back at
yourself and laugh because you were so dramatic about everything."
Somehow he doubted that very much. He was not 'dramatic' - though people had
certainly referred to Shishido as a 'drama queen' often enough. And the
situation was a great deal more complicated than he'd told her, so she just
didn't understand what was going on.
She laughed, apparently seeing his doubt in his eyes. "I know, you don't
believe me," she grinned at him. "I didn't believe mom either, when she told me
the same thing. I was your age and going through my first crush, and I was
convinced the world was going to end if I confessed to him and he didn't like
me back. You'll see." Patting him again, she turned to go back into the
kitchen.
The only real problem with her advice - other than the ridiculousness of
thinking he'd be able to laugh at this in a few years - was that it wasn't
actually Shishido who was causing most of the problems with his jealousy. Oh,
he would probably be the one to start any real fighting that might happen
between his boyfriend and his partner, but for the most part Ohtori had to
admit he was being remarkably mature about the whole thing. Maybe because he
knew he had only himself to blame for missing his chance.
Did that mean it wasn't the value of his friendship, but rather the value of
his relationship that needed to be weighed against the difficulty caused by the
jealousy issues? He shifted, uncomfortable with the thought. If he was being
honest with himself, there was a part of him - a small part, but nevertheless a
part of him - that was starting to think that having to constantly placate
Amano wasn't worth the effort he had to put into it. The cold-war state they
were in meant they weren't actively fighting about it any more, but Ohtori
sometimes felt like he had to keep track of all the time he spent with
Shishido, so he could be certain to spend just as much or more with Amano.
It shouldn't be about how much time he spent with one or the other of them,
right? Shouldn't it be about the quality of the time they spent together?
Somehow he didn't think Amano was going to get over the need for frequent
reassurance any time soon.
Guilt struck him as he realized he was actually contemplating breaking up with
his boyfriend just because he had to put a little effort into keeping the other
boy happy. What kind of a shallow person was he? Amano had been there for him
during one of the worst periods of his life, and had certainly put more than
just 'a little effort' into dealing with Ohtori at that time. Was it too much
of him to ask that Ohtori put up with a bit of insecurity from him in return?
Of course not. Sighing, Ohtori resigned himself to the situation. He wasn't
willing to give up Shishido as a partner, and he was by the gods going to prove
to Amano that he had nothing to worry about. Hopefully things would improve as
time showed Amano that he didn't need to worry about losing Ohtori to his
partner, even if he was actually becoming friends with Shishido again. He
rubbed at his forehead, trying to massage away the headache building behind his
eyes. Teenaged angst, indeed. If his sister had ever had to deal with anything
this complicated at his age, he'd eat his tennis racquet.
***** Chapter 15 *****
"Game, Shishido-Ohtori pair! Five games to four - change court!"
Panting, Ohtori forced himself to walk towards the bench rather than staggering
like his body wanted to. The three-minute break after odd-numbered games had
never seemed so short before. "The three-set matches are going to kill me," he
gasped to his partner as he reached for the water bottle the older boy was
holding out towards him.
Their fingers brushed, and despite his exhaustion Ohtori felt his stomach
tighten at the contact. He knew Shishido felt it too, because their eyes met
for one electric moment before they both looked away. They were usually more
careful than this about avoiding contact, but they were both tired and running
mostly on adrenalin.
"You're both doing well, despite not being used to the extra sets," Atobe
informed them both. Their former captain had volunteered to play bench coach
for them, since they didn't have a real coach and he'd been planning to attend
the match anyway. "You only need to take one more game. They're as tired as you
are."
Glancing across the court to where their opponents were discussing strategy
with their own coach, Ohtori doubted it. They were breathing hard and sweating,
yes, but not as utterly exhausted as Shishido and Ohtori were. They were older,
seventeen and eighteen, and they'd been playing in three set match tournaments
for years already.
For Shishido and Ohtori, it was their first tournament match since the
Nationals almost a year ago, and the first time they'd played three sets
outside of a practice. They'd debated long and hard and finally chosen to enter
the under-18 category in the first citywide tournament, rather than the under-
16. It would be far more challenging, but the exposure and the practice would
be good for them.
And, as Atobe had pointed out, if they didn't do as well here as they hoped,
they could always drop back down to the under-16 category in the next
tournament. Better to set their goal high and adjust downwards if necessary
than to wonder if they could have done better.
Of course, Ohtori reflected wryly, they wouldn't be having half as much trouble
against almost any other set of opponents. Despite their National level ranking
in the junior high circuit, he and Shishido were unknowns in these circles and
therefore unseeded in this tournament. It was just their bad luck that they'd
been pitted against one of the top two seeds in their very first match. These
two were expected to at least make it to the finals, if not win the tournament.
The fact that Shishido and Ohtori, relative unknowns, had already won one set
and were up one game in their third set was drawing a great deal of attention
to them.
They'd taken the first set because their opponents had been stupid enough to
dismiss them as not being much of a challenge in the beginning. By the time
they'd realized their error, Shishido and Ohtori were too far ahead in that set
for them to recover.
The second set had gone to the favourites, but Shishido and Ohtori had made
them work for it. Thanks mainly to the Scud Serve and Ohtori's vicious volleys,
they'd kept all their service games and forced it to a tiebreak round.
And now they were ahead by one game, though unfortunately it was their
opponents' turn to serve next. If they were going to take this game, it would
be up to Shishido and his speed. These two were far too experienced to allow
themselves to be distracted from paying attention to Ohtori, so there would be
no easy points scored that way.
"Time's almost up," Atobe told them, taking the now empty water bottles they
handed back to him. "Get out there and make Hyoutei proud. You can take this
game."
"We can do it," Ohtori agreed, looking from him to Shishido. His partner looked
back at him, the familiar fierce light of unshakeable determination in his
eyes. Ohtori had seen that look many times, both from his own side of the court
and from across the net, but it never failed to rally his own flagging spirits.
If Shishido could keep going and not give up, so could he, damn it.
Impulsively he offered his hand in a high five, their new pre-game traditional
gesture. It had been hours since the start of the match, but somehow it felt
right to do it now, like a reaffirmation of their dedication.
To his gratification Shishido didn't even hesitate, clasping his hand in
tennis-calloused fingers and holding tight. He squeezed back, letting the
inevitable electric tension between them energize him rather than pulling away
from it.
"Let's end this," Shishido growled, his eyes truly alight. With one last
squeeze he released Ohtori's hand and turned, striding towards his place at the
front of the net.
They hadn't discussed strategy, which was ostensibly what the change court
break was supposed to be for; in truth, they didn't need to. Communication
between them was at an all time high, and without even looking to check where
Shishido had positioned himself Ohtori moved to the center of the baseline.
Sure enough when he glanced towards the net he found Shishido directly in front
of him, crouched low and close to the net. Australian formation. They'd already
used it to good effect in several games of this set. If they could keep their
energy and will high, they might be able to use it to win just one more game.
Ohtori fixed his eyes on the shorter of their two opponents, who was now at the
baseline preparing to serve. His serve wasn't as fast or heavy as Ohtori's Scud
Serve, but it was unpredictable and tended to be too deep for Shishido to catch
it, close as he was to the net. That meant it was Ohtori's responsibility to
catch and return it to start the volley, and he was determined not to drop the
ball.
The sound of the serve echoed over the court; the audience had fallen silent as
they watched. This could be the last game of the match - if it was it would be
an unprecedented defeat for the older pair.
From somewhere Ohtori dredged up reserves of speed and stamina he hadn't known
he possessed. He returned the ball in a low, hard shot, aiming right back at
the opposite baseline. And the rally began, as fast and furious as any that had
yet been played that day. He and Shishido were determined to take the game and
prove themselves once and for all, but their opponents were equally determined
not to lose their favoured standing in the tournament.
Love-fifteen. Fifteen-all. Fifteen-thirty. Ohtori could hardly see for the
sweat stinging his eyes, and all his air seemed knotted up into the stitch just
under his ribs. He made no effort to ease the pain or wipe the sweat away; any
momentary lapse could mean their defeat.
Fifteen-forty. Match point. Ohtori could see the tension in the set of
Shishido's shoulders, feel the same ache in his own. They were beyond exhausted
now, and starting to make mistakes. Their opponents were more than happy to
take advantage of their errors; they nearly lost the point when Shishido
overextended himself and missed the ball, but Ohtori recovered it and kept the
rally alive.
On the next return Ohtori saw an opening and took it, exerting himself to the
utmost to try to get into position. Shishido heard his running steps and held
back even though he could have returned the ball, trusting that Ohtori had seen
some opportunity the older boy had missed.
Lunging forward, his arm extended as far as he could reach, Ohtori cursed when
he realized he was still going to be a bare inch short of the sweet spot on
impact. He swung anyway, because if he didn't the ball would go out and they'd
lose the point.
To his amazement it stayed true, following exactly the course he'd intended it
to. The baseline player was just a touch too far onto the same side of the
court as his partner, with his momentum going in the wrong direction, leaving
the far corner open. The ball streaked towards it even as the two older players
swore and scrambled after it, but Ohtori could tell they weren't going to be in
time.
He'd overextended himself too far to recover, and he hit the surface of the
court with a painful impact that covered the sound of the ref's call. There was
a collective gasp and stunned moans mixed with ragged cheers from the crowd,
but he couldn't tell if that meant the ball had gone in or out. Distantly he
was aware that he'd lost some skin on his knee and was going to have a nasty
bruise on his shoulder tomorrow, but at the moment he couldn't feel the pain.
Wildly he sought Shishido's eyes, knowing the look on his partner's face would
tell him better than the crowd's reaction what the result of his shot had been.
The older boy was watching the far side of the court, but when he turned
towards Ohtori the look in his eyes was frustration and weariness, not triumph.
Ohtori's heart sank.
"It was out?" he asked, knowing the answer even as he spoke the words.
"Just barely," Shishido sighed, offering him a hand up. Ohtori took it and let
the older boy pull him to his feet, though he winced when he put weight on his
knee.
Sharp-eyed as ever, Shishido didn't miss the small flinch. "Are you hurt?" he
demanded, scowling up at Ohtori. "How bad is it? Do we need a time out?"
"No, it's fine," Ohtori said, testing it gingerly. "I just skinned it, I
think." It might well turn out to be wrenched, but with all the adrenalin in
his system he couldn't really feel any pain from it. "I can keep going. We just
need one more point."
Shishido nodded and squeezed his fingers, and Ohtori flushed as he realized
they hadn't released their clasped hands after Shishido had helped him up. "One
more point," the older boy echoed, letting go at last. "C'mon, Choutarou. Let's
show them what we're really made of. Again!"
'Again!' The echo of that word would haunt Ohtori's nightmares for years to
come, he sometimes thought. 'Again!' was what Shishido had shouted each time
the Scud Serve had knocked him flat, each time he scrambled back to his feet
even as Ohtori begged him to stop for the night. 'Again!' was what had made
Shishido the first person ever to return to the Hyoutei Regulars after being
dropped. 'Again!' was what had driven Ohtori to keep serving long into the
night, until finally he truly mastered the Scud Serve as the first rays of dawn
broke the horizon.
And 'Again!' was, by all that was holy, going to win them this game. Taking a
deep breath to center himself, Ohtori nodded and returned to his place at the
baseline. Thirty-forty. Still match point. If they took this point, they won.
If they lost it... the possibility of winning was still there, but he knew they
were both too tired to continue much longer. What was more, their opponents
knew it as well. It all came down to this point.
Locking eyes across the net with the boy about to serve, Ohtori mentally
invited him to bring it on. He and Shishido had been through too much to give
up now, damn it!
Fast and implacable, the serve tore across the net. Shishido was already there,
dashing to meet it and returning it in a hard shot back past the service line.
It was returned immediately, too far to the other side for Shishido to get to
it. Not too far for Ohtori to catch it.
It was a short ball, despite being fast. Ohtori had to run forward to meet it
before it could bounce twice. He was exhausted enough to be making rookie
mistakes, and reaching short balls from the baseline had always been a weakness
of his. He opened the face of his racquet too much, turning it up so that the
ball bounced high off it instead of shooting straight back over the net. It was
a lob that would fall just on the other side of the net.
Against another set of opponents it might even have been a good move. But the
player now at the net was a smash specialist, and he'd already demonstrated a
couple of signature moves that had won them the second set. Ohtori and Shishido
hadn't yet found a way to seal his Spin Smash. The same Spin Smash Ohtori could
already see him winding up for as he leapt into the air after the ball.
Mentally castigating himself for the stupid mistake, Ohtori backpedaled
frantically. The Spin Smash always landed somewhere back at the baseline, but
it went off in an unpredictable direction after that. It had to be caught and
returned before it landed - and Ohtori was too far towards the net to get back
in time.
He tried anyway, but his exhausted body finally betrayed him. His foot caught
on his other ankle and he went town in a tangle of limbs and racquet, striking
the same knee much harder on the court. He bit down on a pained cry; this time
he was sure it was wrenched. He could have dealt with that, though, if only
he'd gotten to the ball in time.
Sprawled over the court, he turned his head to follow the path of the smash,
expecting to see it impact and go out to lose them the point. Instead, to his
utter shock, there was a blur of motion and suddenly a racquet intersected the
ball on its path of descent. Shishido shouted incoherently as he put everything
he had into an impossible two-handed return. Ohtori couldn't help but stare in
disbelief. Not even Shishido could have gotten back that quickly from the net;
he must have anticipated that Ohtori would lob it by mistake and already been
moving long before their opponent smashed it back.
For a horrible moment Ohtori thought the ball was too low, that it was going to
smack into their side of the net. It struck the top of the net, wobbled...
And went over, dropping almost straight down to hit the court on the other
side. Neither of their opponents was able to reach the net before the ball fell
and started to roll, though both of them dove for it and they nearly smashed
into each other in the attempt.
Ohtori stared, not even making any attempt to get to his feet. The words the
ref called didn't make any sense to his exhausted brain, nor did the cheering
and yelling of the crowd. He was still trying to force his brain to accept what
he was seeing.
"Choutarou!" Shishido's voice, practically in his ear, snapped him back to some
semblance of reality. He jerked his gaze around to meet his partner's; the
older boy was crouched over him, eying him with worry. "Choutarou, are you
okay?"
"We..." Ohtori could hardly even get the words out, it seemed so unbelievable.
"We won? It went in, we won?"
Laughing, Shishido bodily hauled him upright enough so the other boy could hug
him. "You're damn fucking straight we won! We did it, Choutarou! We beat the
favourites, we're going on to the next round!"
Finally it sank in, and Ohtori all but shouted with joy as he hugged Shishido
back fiercely. They'd won - they'd not only played well, they'd won against
someone who, by all rights, should have made it to the finals.
Then Atobe was there, leaning over both of them and irritably ordering Shishido
out of the way so the tournament medic could get a look at Ohtori's knee.
Instead of moving away Shishido shifted around so he was at Ohtori's back,
supporting him so it was easier for him to sit up without trying to move his
knee at all.
After a brief examination the medic declared nothing to be damaged. "It's not
even sprained, just wrenched a bit," he said. "Put some ice on it after you
cool down to deal with any swelling, and stay off it for the night as much as
possible. You should be fine by tomorrow."
Sighing with relief, Ohtori nodded. It was spring break, and this tournament
was being held every day while the students were out of school. If his knee had
been damaged it could have forced them to forfeit the next match.
"Go walk yourselves out," Atobe ordered them. "I'll hold off the crowds and the
reporters for now; most of them do understand you need to cool down. Don't take
too long, though; you've just made yourselves the rising stars of this
tournament."
Ohtori accepted his and Shishido's help up, leaning heavily on his partner once
he was up to keep the weight off his knee. Looking around, he was a little
surprised to realize just how many of the crowd of people gathered at the edges
of the court were reporters and cameramen. Well, of course this tournament was
being covered by every tennis publication in the country, even though it was a
Tokyo-only tournament. And it made sense that they would be paying close
attention to the game being played by one of the best pairs in the tournament.
Still Ohtori regarded the whole scene with a sense of disbelief.
"Let's get out of here before they swarm us," Shishido muttered, and Ohtori
laughed his agreement. They handed their racquets to Atobe and staggered off,
both exhausted almost past their limits.
"I can't believe we won," Ohtori said, eyes sparkling as he limped along at
Shishido's side. "I mean, obviously it's what we were aiming for, but... it
doesn't seem quite real."
"Better get used to it," Shishido declared, his deep voice full of smug
satisfaction. "We're going to take them by storm, Choutarou."
"Yes we are," Ohtori agreed, a truly delighted smile breaking over his face.
"Gods, Shishido-san, we really did it!"
They escaped the crowd with surprising ease; from the sounds of it everyone
wanted to interview the defeated pair first, trusting that Ohtori and Shishido
weren't likely to try to slink off without talking to the press. Theirs wasn't
the last match to finish by any means; he could still hear the sounds of balls
hitting racquet strings on several of the nearby courts.
"There's an empty court over there," Shishido said, jerking his head at the far
side of the complex. There were a couple of smaller half-courts there with
practice walls, intended for players to use while warming up. They didn't have
rings of bleachers around them, just tall fences to keep stray balls in the
area. Because of the way they were arranged in a square around each other, each
of the courts had walls blocking the view from two sides; if they went to the
outside court chances were good an overeager reporter wouldn't easily be able
find them.
Nodding, Ohtori allowed himself to be helped in that direction. As the
adrenalin and thrill of victory began to wear off, he found his knee was
starting to really ache any time he put his full weight on it. At least
Shishido had put on something of a growth spurt, so he was now only a few
inches shorter than Ohtori and at a good height to help him.
Of course, having his arm slung over Shishido's shoulder and the older boy
supporting him around the waist had problems even if their heights were close
enough that he didn't have to bend awkwardly. He flushed as he felt the
familiar tingle of contact, his breath coming short not because of his
exhaustion, but because of the older boy's proximity.
Once inside the secluded area Shishido helped him walk back and forth along the
wall, both of them slowly cooling down as their bodies recovered. "Man, I'm
going to sleep well tonight," Shishido commented, his voice slightly strained
to Ohtori's ears.
Wondering why the older boy would sound like that, Ohtori glanced down at him
and caught Shishido looking up at him from the corner of his eyes. Their gazes
met and held for a long, breathless moment, midnight blue to amber brown.
They'd stopped moving, Ohtori was vaguely aware in some part of his brain that
wasn't occupied with inventing images of Shishido asleep in his bed. Or just in
bed, anyway.
Gods... Ohtori already knew that the sexual tension between them always reached
a peak right after they'd been playing. Spending hours so intently focused on
each other was bound to have that effect, really. He'd never again made the
mistake of showering at the same time as Shishido, and the older boy had
likewise been careful not to ever change in front of him, or be around when he
was changing. It was something they'd just learned to deal with, avoiding the
issue whenever possible and ignoring it when avoidance proved impractical.
At that moment, though, Ohtori was nearly swamped by a wave of sheer longing.
They were so close, just inches apart. Inches that could easily be closed... he
didn't think they'd ever been quite this close. He could feel Shishido's harsh
breath against his face, feel the faint trembling that had started in the older
boy's body. "Shishido-san," he murmured, his voice catching on the words. His
throat and mouth were dry, and he licked his lips. Shishido's eyes flared wide
and darkened at the unthinking gesture, and Ohtori nearly gasped, drowning in
lust-filled blue.
It would be so easy to lean down... or even just to stand still, because he was
almost certain that Shishido was about to stretch up to meet him...
"Damn it!" Cursing, Shishido broke away abruptly, pulling away so suddenly and
completely that Ohtori nearly went over on his ass. He caught himself against
the practice wall and stared at his partner, who was now standing several feet
away with his fists clenched like he was angry. "Fucking hell Choutarou, don't
do that!"
The air caught in Ohtori's throat at the anguished sound of his partner's
voice. Shishido sounded like he was in agony, and not a pleasant sort either.
"Shishido-san?" he asked, dazed. "I don't... what did I do? Don't do what?" He
couldn't think, his system was still reeling from how very close they'd just
come to kissing and he felt like he was in shock.
"That!" Shishido almost shouted, gesturing angrily at him. When Ohtori only
blinked at him in incomprehension, the older boy growled and yanked his cap
off, raking a hand through his hair.
"Don't look at me like that," he elaborated roughly. "You... you looked like
you were waiting for me to ravish you. Like you wouldn't have said 'no' if I
did, damn it."
Ohtori flushed with guilt and not-so-hidden longing, and he ducked his head in
shame. Much as he'd have liked to deny it, he didn't want to lie to his
partner. And it wouldn't have worked anyway; Shishido knew him too well.
"Look," Shishido sighed, coming to stand just out of easy reach in front of
him. "You know I want you bad, Choutarou. Sometimes I wish I could have just
stayed stupidly oblivious, because this sure hurts like fucking hell at times.
Except then you and I would still be fighting, and anything is worth getting
past that. But I'm only human."
Looking up slightly, Ohtori saw that Shishido was giving him a helpless look.
The younger boy swallowed hard, because Shishido's eyes were still wide and
dark with lust, and Ohtori could see him trembling as he fought for restraint.
Ohtori's mouth parted slightly as he stared, riveted by the sight, and Shishido
cursed again.
"Fucking... don't you get it?" he snarled, slamming his hands onto the wall on
either side of Ohtori's shoulders. They both knew Ohtori wasn't really trapped;
he was more than strong enough to get out if he wanted to. They also both knew
he wasn't going to move, transfixed by Shishido's outraged and desperate stare.
"Listen to me," the older boy ground out. "And pay attention, because I'm not
going to say this again. I don't know what's going through that head of yours
sometimes... maybe you're telling yourself that it's not your fault if I kiss
you, or something like that. Well, bullshit. You know Amano wouldn't see it
that way, and you know he'd be right not to because it doesn't work like that."
Shishido was so close, and Ohtori couldn't remember ever seeing him so
infuriated. He was just as glad he had the wall to lean against, because both
his knees were threatening to give out on him. His breaths were coming in
shallow little pants in a fast counterpoint to Shishido's ragged gasps.
"It's not fair, Choutarou," the older boy continued, voice low and intense.
"It's not fair to Amano, or to me. You're better than this. Stop relying on my
restraint to keep you out of trouble... because it's not going to keep working
much longer."
Shivering, Ohtori had to try twice before his voice would work. "I can't not
react to you, Shishido-san," he whispered, unable to raise his volume any more
than that.
"I know that, and we've done a pretty good job of dealing with it before this,"
Shishido acknowledged, his eyes narrowing. "But you've been tempting fate a lot
more often lately, Choutarou. You know you have, and it's got to stop. I can't
take much more of this, no matter how much I don't want to fuck up our
partnership again."
"I..." He was right, Ohtori realized miserably. Looking back on their
interaction over the last few weeks since his birthday, he had been putting
himself more and more often in positions where he would get to touch Shishido,
or Shishido would have to be close to him. It had been subconscious, at least
mostly... but that didn't change the fact that Shishido was right. It wasn't
fair of him to tease like that.
"I'm sorry," he said miserably, lowering his eyes again. "I just... it's..."
It's hard for me, he wanted to say, but he bit back the words. Searching for
excuses for his bad behaviour wasn't fair, either. "I'm sorry," he repeated.
"I'll stop, I promise."
"All right." Shishido studied him for a long moment, not moving away. Ohtori's
breath kept catching in his throat, and he felt like he couldn't get enough
air. Why wasn't he moving away? Why weren't either of them moving? Shouldn't
they have been carefully separating themselves, after what they'd just agreed
on?
"Choutarou." Shishido's voice was husky, and Ohtori looked up without thinking.
He was trapped for real this time, caught in the dusky blue of Shishido's eyes
and the wistful, longing expression on the older boy's face. He was leaning in,
slowly, his eyes never leaving Ohtori's as he closed the distance between them.
Had he decided to steal one kiss after all, while he still had the chance?
Ohtori was confused, and part of him desperately wanted to grab the offered
opportunity. But Shishido had been right; it wasn't fair to any of them for him
to allow this to happen.
"No," he rasped, turning his face away. Somehow he found the strength to lift
his hands, setting them on Shishido's shoulders and holding him at bay. He
couldn't push him away entirely, he didn't have the will to do that much, but
he did stop him from coming closer. "Shishido-san, no. We can't." His voice
broke on the words, and he bit his lip.
Taking a deep breath, Shishido moved back a step, Ohtori's hands still on his
shoulders. "Good. Now maybe we can get on with our friendship and get things
back on an even keel."
Disbelieving, Ohtori stared at him. "You were testing me?" he asked, shocked.
"What would you have done if I hadn't pushed you away?"
Shishido gave him a quirky grin in response. "I'd have stopped - this time," he
added in a tone of warning. "But don't push me, Choutarou. My self-control
isn't infinite, and you've been stretching it in one way or another since the
day you confessed to me. If we give in to this, however much we both want it,
it'll destroy us. Because you're not the kind of guy that can mess around
behind his boyfriend's back... and I'm not the kind of guy who can settle for
being the secret fling."
"You both deserve better," Ohtori agreed with a sigh. "I wish my attraction to
you had died when I got over the infatuation; it would have made things so much
simpler. But you're still as beautiful as you ever were."
To his surprise, his words made Shishido blush and turn away. "C'mon, we've got
interviews to give," the older boy said, tugging his cap back into place. He
headed for the door to the court, and Ohtori limped slowly after him.
His heart felt like it was somewhere in his stomach, and he cursed his wayward
hormones. Not for the first time since they'd repaired their friendship he
wondered if his infatuation with Shishido might not be quite as dead as he'd
like to believe.
Or, maybe worse, if it hadn't been reborn as something else entirely.
***** Chapter 16 *****
When the doorbell rang Ohtori was pacing back and forth in the front hall,
trying to tell himself he wasn't nervous about what he was planning. There was
nothing to be nervous about, or so he kept repeating until the words had nearly
become a mantra. His stomach didn't seem to be quite convinced, though, nor did
his sweating palms.
Even though he was expecting it, the sound of the bell startled him so badly he
actually jumped. Taking a deep breath, he wiped his hands on his jeans and went
to answer it. This was stupid, he was going to ruin everything.
"Hey," he greeted Amano as the door opened. His boyfriend was dressed in
pressed slacks and a polo shirt; for Amano that was casual. Ohtori had to smile
as he saw it, and the simple familiarity of it calmed him somewhat.
"Hey," Amano replied, stepping inside and setting his duffle bag down while he
kicked off his shoes. The smaller boy was wearing his hair up again, and Ohtori
watched the way the long dark strands of the ponytail slid over his shoulders
as he moved. "So what's the deal with this weekend?" the pianist wanted to
know, straightening and picking up his bag again. "We don't usually bother with
inviting each other, we just crash wherever we are."
"Yeah, but I wanted to make sure it was my place we crashed at," Ohtori
explained, grinning at him and leading the way deeper into the house. When
Amano looked at him curiously, he elaborated, "My family is gone for the
weekend. It's my grandmother's birthday, they took her up to a hot spring to
celebrate."
From nowhere his cat Karasu appeared, running straight to Amano and twining
around his ankles. Ohtori had to stifle a snicker at the long-suffering look on
his boyfriend's face. It wasn't that Amano disliked cats or anything; he was
just allergic to them and so tried to stay away from them, but Karasu seemed to
insist on being near him any time he came over. The funniest part was that
Shishido loved cats, and Karasu wouldn't have anything to do with him. Ohtori
had long suspected the feline of possessing a rather large sadistic streak.
"So nobody is going to be here but us all weekend?" Amano asked to be sure, his
expression slowly turning from thoughtful to wicked. "That could be... fun."
Ohtori shivered at the heated look in the other boy's eyes. "How did you
convince them to leave you behind?"
"I told them I have a game tomorrow," Ohtori replied, laughing. "They already
know better than to try to get me to go anywhere if I've got a match
scheduled." He opened the door to his room, let Amano follow him through and
then nudged the cat back outside with his foot before closing the door. Having
the pianist sniffling and sneezing all weekend would not be conducive to his
plans.
When he looked up again, Amano had turned away from him to set his bag beside
the bed. There was a tension to the other boy's shoulders that hadn't been
there a minute ago. "So what time do you have to meet Shishido tomorrow, then?
I guess I probably shouldn't wear you out too much..."
It was obvious the pianist was trying to keep the resentment out of his tone,
but he wasn't succeeding very well. Sighing, Ohtori moved to wrap his arms
around the smaller boy from behind, pulling him into an embrace. Amano
resisted, staying stiff in his arms rather than leaning back against him.
"Kazuya, I know I've been neglecting you lately," Ohtori said softly, nuzzling
into the soft strands of the pianist's hair. "I'm sorry, I really am. That
tournament was brutal; I don't ever want to play matches on so many consecutive
days again."
Between the extra training they'd put into the weeks before the tournament and
how tired he'd been afterwards, Ohtori had barely seen or even spoken to his
boyfriend for the entire spring break. In the end he and Shishido had
eventually been eliminated in the quarterfinals, by the pair who would
eventually go on to win the tournament. It was a result they were both happy
with, especially considering the level they'd been playing at.
And it had gotten them a lot of attention from the tennis world in Tokyo.
They'd been featured in a couple of articles and given several interviews, and
if they played as well in the next tournament they might even end up being
seeded after that.
It all took up a lot of time, though, and Ohtori really did feel bad about how
little energy he'd had left over for Amano. He intended to make up for that
this weekend, at least a little.
His words didn't seem to appease his boyfriend though, for the shorter boy
remained tense in his embrace. "You say that now, but you're already starting a
new tournament, aren't you? I never get to see you anymore, Choutarou! We don't
have music and you're always training after school. People have been asking me
if we broke up because they never see us together any more. We're not even in
the same class now!"
Sighing, Ohtori held him a little tighter. Despite Shishido helping him to
study he hadn't done as well on the exams as he'd have liked, and he'd placed
in the 3-2 class while Amano remained in 3-1. It had disappointed his parents
as well, but there wasn't anything he could do about it now. Unfortunately it
did mean that he never saw Amano anymore unless they made a real effort to get
together outside of school, and this was the first weekend since the new year
started that he'd had a chance.
"Kazuya, I invited you over so we could spend some time together," Ohtori said
wearily. "Are we going to waste all of it arguing about how we never spend time
together any more?"
"I just..." Amano's voice broke, and Ohtori winced. He really needed to learn
to manage his time better. He hadn't meant to hurt the other boy so badly. "I
just feel like you're slipping away from me. We used to spend so much time
together, and now I can't even have you for a whole weekend any more!"
With an effort Ohtori took the shorter boy by the shoulders and turned him
around so they could look at each other. Amano resisted, but Ohtori was more
than strong enough to just pick him up and move him if he had to, though
thankfully it didn't come to that. Miserable silver eyes stared up at him,
suspiciously shiny as if Amano was holding back tears with an effort of will.
"You do have me for the whole weekend," Ohtori told him softly. "I don't have a
game with Shishido-san tomorrow, Kazuya, I just told my parents that so I
wouldn't have to go with them. I'm not even training with him at all this
weekend; I told him and Atobe that I needed a break before I started to forget
what you look like."
Firmly he told his nerves to go to hell; there was nothing else he could think
of that would both reassure and make it up to Amano half as well. Not to
mention hopefully easing some of the guilt he'd been feeling about the fact
that he couldn't stop being attracted to his partner. He was ready for this, he
was.
Astonishment spread over Amano's expression and Ohtori smiled down at him,
lifting his chin with gentle fingers so he could lean down and kiss him
briefly. "I'm all yours, Kazuya. My parents probably won't be home until after
dinner tomorrow. Two whole days where I don't intend to think about anybody but
you and me."
"Choutarou..." Amano shook his head as if to clear it of a daze, then pushed up
to meet his lips again in a more passionate kiss. "I'm sorry," he said when
they pulled apart again, breathing a little harder. "Here I've been bitching at
you when you'd done something so nice - I don't know how you put up with me
sometimes."
"Because I care about you," Ohtori said firmly. Biting his lip, he steeled
himself and then added softly, "Because I love you, Kazuya." It felt odd to say
it after all this time, but he was being so silly about it and it was past time
for him to stop. If what he felt for Amano wasn't the kind of all-encompassing
adoration he'd had for Shishido last year, that didn't mean it wasn't love.
What he'd felt for Shishido had been infatuation, and that wasn't really love
either.
"You..." Clearly delighted, Amano threw his arms around the taller boy's
shoulders and kissed him again, hard. "You said it! You really said it!" Once
again Ohtori felt guilty; Amano had always assured him that he understood
Ohtori's reluctance to commit himself verbally like that, but it was obvious it
had been bothering the pianist more than he let on. Ohtori had always believed
that actions meant more than words, since it was much more difficult to lie
with your actions, but it seemed the words meant more to Amano than he'd
realized.
Maybe, now that he'd finally heard them, he would feel a bit less insecure
about Shishido. Leaning down Ohtori kissed him again, drawing it out and
teasing with his tongue a bit this time. He'd discovered, much to his pleasure,
that he really enjoyed kissing and as a result he'd gotten very good at it.
Sometimes he thought it felt more intimate than anything else they'd yet done,
because it created a visceral connection between them, a give and take that was
more immediate than simple touch could reproduce.
Of course, there were a few things they hadn't done yet which would probably
create the same feeling on a much greater scale. Ignoring the butterflies that
seemed to be colonizing his stomach at a rapid rate, he pulled back a bit and
bent his head to nibble along the curve of Amano's ear, something he knew drove
the other boy crazy. "Since we don't have to worry about staying quiet for
once, I thought maybe... it would be a good time to take things farther?"
"What?" Wide-eyed, Amano turned to face him, and Ohtori stopped teasing for the
moment. "Choutarou, are you sure? You're ready?"
The pianist had made it clear some time ago that he was ready to finish what
they'd started, but he'd also made it equally clear that he was more than
willing to wait for Ohtori to feel the same. Amano was almost a year older than
Ohtori, in fact his birthday was less than a week away, and the difference in
their ages had always been most obvious in terms of their sexual maturity.
Ohtori had always felt somewhat guilty for teasing the other boy, but also
grateful that Amano never, ever pushed him beyond what he was ready for.
"I'm ready," Ohtori agreed, though part of him was still wondering if he really
was. He squashed that part firmly. It was normal to be a little nervous your
first time, but he couldn't let it hold him back forever. He knew his parents
would say he was far too young to be doing something like this, but he also
knew several other people his own age who'd already gone this far, or at least
claimed they had. He'd always been considered mature for his age; he could
handle this, damn it.
Hopefully, this would help fix some of the insecurity issues that plagued his
relationship with Amano. The pianist knew how seriously Ohtori took this, so
how could he continue to doubt Ohtori's dedication to him after this?
"I'm ready," he repeated softly, firmly. "Consider it an early birthday
present, if you like. I want this, Kazuya. I want you. I love you. And I'm
sorry I've been so difficult lately, I know I've put you through a lot."
"No more than I've put you through, being so jealous," Amano countered wryly.
"Nobody's perfect, Choutarou, least of all us. But the important thing is that
we work through it and forgive each other, right?"
Nodding, Ohtori dropped his arms so he could wrap his hands around the curve of
Amano's slim hips, his fingers teasing at the back of his waistband. Amano
shivered, and Ohtori gave him an impish grin. "So, did you want to go watch a
movie or something?" he asked innocently. "Maybe practice music together for a
while? We just had our piano tuned, it sounds really good now."
"Tease," Amano accused him, making him laugh. "Tell me you're not going to make
me wait for dark and then ask to turn out the lights so I can't see you."
"Have I ever been shy?" Ohtori countered, amused. "We've done damn near
everything else with the lights on, why would I suddenly insist on being in the
dark now?" Tightening his grip, he lifted the smaller boy easily off his feet.
With a startled noise Amano clung to his neck, and he took the few steps
necessary to tumble them both onto the bed. He was careful to land beside Amano
rather than on him, already searching for his lips as they hit the soft
comforter.
They kissed passionately for a long while, hands wandering over clothing as
they just re-familiarized themselves with each other. It had been far too long
since the last time they'd had a chance to touch each other, Ohtori reflected
as he shifted hungrily against the other boy. They had to be so careful not to
raise suspicion, to make sure that their families would never hear or interrupt
them. Putting everything he had into the kiss, Ohtori tried to convey how much
he'd missed this, the feeling of intimate connection between them.
Briefly his mind flashed to the moment when he and Shishido had almost kissed
after that first match. He hadn't been able to stop himself from wondering,
frequently, what it would have been like if they hadn't pulled away. Would
there have been this same sense of intensity, the same intimacy? Would it have
been different, and if so, how? Considering the synchronicity that already
existed between the two of them, Ohtori was almost scared to contemplate what
would happen if they connected further.
Now was not the time to be thinking about it, however, and he shoved the
thought firmly out of his mind. Here and now, the only thing he should be
thinking about was Amano, and making it up to his boyfriend for the way he'd
been neglecting him lately.
Focusing his attention on the boy in his arms instead of the one in his memory,
Ohtori did his best to drive Amano wild by kissing alone. He loved doing this
and he'd learned all the best places to rub or flick his tongue against, how to
nibble slightly at the other boy's bottom lip, and just generally drive him
insane. It frustrated Amano to no end when he did it, especially since he just
didn't have the patience necessary to learn how to torment Ohtori the same way.
The one time when he'd asked - outside a make-out session - if Amano wanted him
to stop doing it, though, the pianist had looked at him like he was crazy. From
that Ohtori had inferred that his boyfriend liked being teased past endurance,
and he was certainly more than happy to oblige.
Finally, when Amano was making desperate little whining noises in the back of
his throat and had been reduced to clutching helplessly at Ohtori's shoulders,
the taller boy took pity on him. Pulling away slightly, both of them panting
hard, he looked down into dazed silver eyes. "Clothes off," he demanded more
than suggested, tugging at Amano's shirt to try to get it untucked from the
slacks.
Laughing, Amano recovered his senses a bit and reached for the button of
Ohtori's jeans. "I thought I was the impatient one?" he teased as they rapidly
shed their clothes, often getting tangled as they attempted to 'help' each
other. "You'd think I was the one who'd been holding back and who liked driving
you crazy."
"You should know me well enough to realize that once I decide to do something,
I put everything I have into it," Ohtori countered, brown eyes dark and shining
with lust. They'd done all this before, many times now. It was familiar
territory and if he concentrated on that rather than worrying about what was
still to come, he found he wasn't nearly as nervous.
Distracted by his thoughts, Ohtori gasped when he felt his cock wrapped in
Amano's hand. The other boy had pianist's fingers, long and slender and
sensitive. Unlike Ohtori whose palms were calloused from tennis and left
fingers calloused from the violin strings, Amano's skin was soft and smooth and
felt amazingly good and different against him.
"My turn," Amano murmured, his tone wicked as he leaned in to lick and nibble
at Ohtori's collarbone and the hollow of his throat. He stroked his hand slowly
over Ohtori's cock, far too slowly to satisfy, and Ohtori whimpered and tossed
his head back against the pillow. If Ohtori was the best one at kissing, Amano
was unarguably the better of the two of them at this, at knowing just how to
touch and glide and stroke to wring the most sensation from Ohtori's trembling
body.
"Kazuya," he moaned, trying to arch his hips up to get more contact. Amano
pulled his hand away entirely until Ohtori subsided again, his whimpers
increasing in volume. When he returned his hand to the taller boy's cock,
Ohtori retaliated by reaching for his in turn.
He was a little surprised by just how aroused Amano obviously was. He was hard
and dripping, clear fluid leaking from the tip of his cock fast enough to make
it much easier for Ohtori's hand to slide against him. Usually it took the
smaller boy a while to get to this point, and Ohtori looked at him curiously.
Amano smiled wryly back at him, lust burning in his eyes and making them seem
even brighter than they usually did. "You think you can offer yourself to me
like that and I'm not going to react? Gods, Choutarou, do you have any idea how
often I've fantasized about doing this with you?"
The reminder of what they intended to do made Ohtori a little nervous again,
but the heated look Amano was giving him turned the butterflies in his stomach
into a much more pleasant twisting sensation. "I've thought about it too," he
confessed softly. "I'm sorry I made you wait so long."
"Don't be sorry," Amano shook his head immediately, fingers squeezing briefly
and making Ohtori cry out. "Pushing you into it wouldn't have been any fun for
me, Choutarou. It was worth it to wait." Leaning in, he licked at Ohtori's
sensitive neck again, increasing his pace slightly and making the taller boy
pant with need. "I'm going to make you feel so good you'll wonder why you ever
hesitated, though."
Grateful there was nobody home to hear the rather undignified noises he was
making, Ohtori tossed his head against the pillow and ran his free hand through
Amano's long ponytail. "If you tease me too much we'll end up having to wait
after all," he warned, his voice tight. It had been far too long, and his own
hand and fantasies just weren't as satisfying as being with his boyfriend. He
always took a while to recover after coming, though, and was often far too
sensitive to bear further touch for a while.
Despite the fact that he was the one giving the warning, he still moaned in
protest when Amano released him. "We need... you know, lubricant, or
something," Amano said, looking no less worked up than Ohtori felt. "Otherwise
it'll hurt you, won't it?"
"I don't know any more about this than you do," Ohtori reminded him, breathless
with something that didn't quite feel like anticipation. Locker room jokes and
dirty stories had given him a basic idea of what went where, and given the fact
that he was on the tennis team, not to mention the orchestra, he'd probably
heard more about it than most boys his age. He'd also heard that you had to
have something to make it easier or it would hurt, but he hadn't been able to
work up the nerve to go into a drugstore and buy the real thing. His height
made him look older than he was, but it didn't stop him from being horribly
flustered at the very idea.
Thankfully, he'd also heard that it didn't have to be the real thing to work
just as well. "I've got some Vaseline," he said, ducking his head in
embarrassment and almost mumbling the words. "In the bedside table."
Chuckling, Amano ran his fingers gently over Ohtori's face. "You're so adorable
when you're embarrassed," the pianist said, and Ohtori of course blushed more.
Reaching across the bed, Amano fumbled in the drawer and finally emerged with
the small jar Ohtori had swiped from the bathroom.
Unscrewing the cap, Amano dipped his fingers into the waxy gel. The distinctive
scent filled the air around them, and Ohtori wrinkled his nose slightly, which
made Amano laugh at him again. "You sure about this?" his boyfriend asked him
seriously one last time. "We can still stop now, just do what we usually do."
No, some small, frightened part of Ohtori's mind whimpered. No, I'm not ready,
it's too soon. Too much, too fast... I don't want to do this!
Taking a deep breath, Ohtori once again shoved that part of him away and
ignored it. "I'm ready," he forced himself to say, his voice shaking only a
bit. It pleased him that Amano had given him another chance to change his mind,
but he knew if he backed out now it would just hang between them, souring their
relationship further. He could do this. It wasn't like it was something
horrible that was going to happen, after all. He needed to stop acting like a
shy schoolgirl.
"All right," Amano agreed, some of the tension in his face relaxing at Ohtori's
agreement, and Ohtori knew he'd made the right choice. "I guess... you're
supposed to turn over?" the pianist continued uncertainly.
"I think so," Ohtori nodded, equally unsure. This was totally uncharted
territory for both of them, and they were going to have to make most of it up
as they went. Surely it couldn't be that hard to figure out. Boys had been
doing this for thousands of years, and he would bet most of them had even less
idea of what to do than Ohtori and Amano did.
He rolled over onto his stomach and lifted himself up on hands and knees. It
felt awkward, and he wished he could see Amano's face, but he could see why
this position would be most convenient for what they were doing.
Shivers wracked his spine as he felt something large and hard press against his
ass, gliding gently between the cheeks. The Vaseline made the motion easy and
almost frictionless, but it was still a little daunting. Ohtori had thought he
was intimately familiar with his boyfriend's cock, but what was pressing
against him now felt much larger than he'd expected. How exactly was that
supposed to fit inside him?
"Relax," Amano whispered, leaning over him and positioning himself with one
hand. "Relax, Choutarou. I don't want to hurt you."
"I trust you," Ohtori replied, his voice breaking on the words as he felt the
intrusion into his body. Bracing himself, he tried to force himself to relax as
Amano pushed inside him past the tight ring of muscle.
It hurt... oh gods, it hurt. It felt like he was being torn in half, and he bit
his lip until it bled to stop the pained noises that wanted to escape him. His
fists clenched in the sheets and he panted raggedly as Amano kept pressing
forward. He wanted to cry out for the other boy to stop, to say that it hurt
too much and he didn't want to do this any more.
Instead he gritted his teeth and hung on, refusing to allow even the slightest
sound of pain to escape him. People did this all the time, and most of them
enjoyed it enough to want to do it frequently. Surely it was going to get
better once he got past this initial agony. It had to.
For some reason his mind produced the memory of Shishido lying battered and
bruised on the court, knocked flat once again by another Scud Serve. He'd seen
the agony in the senior's eyes, seen how much effort it took to stagger to his
feet and shout 'Again!'. Ohtori could only imagine how much it would hurt to
get hit by his serve, but surely it had to be worse than this.
The image helped him hang on to his determination to see this through, and
finally Amano came to rest against his back, as far inside as he could be.
Ohtori could feel the smaller boy shaking against him, and for a startled
moment he wondered if it hurt as much for his boyfriend as it did for him.
"Kazuya?"
"Choutarou." The sound of his name was little more than a gasp, but Ohtori
couldn't mistake the tone for pain if he'd tried. Amano was shaking with the
effort to restrain himself for Ohtori's sake, not because it hurt. "Are you
okay?"
"I'm fine," Ohtori lied, forcing his voice to stay steady. It burned, and all
the jokes he'd heard about people 'walking funny' suddenly made a great deal
more sense, as well as being a whole lot less funny. He was grateful he'd had
the foresight to do this when he would not be training with Shishido the next
day because he doubted very much that he'd be able to move tomorrow, let alone
run around on the courts.
Somehow, despite the fact that Amano was buried inside him there was none of
the sense of connection Ohtori had been expecting. Mostly it just hurt and felt
oddly full. When Amano started to move over him with increasingly powerful
thrusts Ohtori moaned and bit his lip again, struggling to keep his ragged
panting from turning into pained sobs. He clung to that memory of Shishido, the
determination and resolve that had carried the older boy through pain far worse
than this. He could do this, he could.
The first touch on his cock startled him into crying out. He'd gone mostly soft
with the pain, but as Amano stroked him in time with his thrusts he slowly
hardened again. Some of the pain faded at last, and was replaced with pleasure.
He relaxed a bit and that helped even more, making it easier for Amano to move
inside him.
It still hurt, but now it felt good too. He couldn't imagine why some people
seemed so eager to do this at every possible opportunity, but it wasn't so bad.
And it was clear from the noises Amano was making that it was amazingly good
for the person on top. Too good, maybe; his boyfriend sounded like he was
hanging onto his restraint by teeth and nails. Ohtori resolved to think of it
somewhat like a blowjob - something that wasn't exactly enjoyable for him but
was worth it for the pleasure it brought his boyfriend.
"Choutarou, you have to..." Amano panted, increasing the pace of his strokes
even as the rhythm began to falter. "Please, I can't... I can't hold on much
longer..."
"I can't," Ohtori murmured, shaking his head. He was still much too far from
the edge, even though he was starting to feel more pleasure than pain. "Go
ahead Kazuya, it's all right."
"But!" Amano protested almost incoherently. Ohtori was touched by the fact that
the other boy wanted to hold out until Ohtori had taken his pleasure as well,
but he mostly just wanted this to be over now. He tilted his hips up, hoping
the sudden change would be enough to push his boyfriend over the edge.
They both cried out at the same time; Amano because Ohtori had accomplished his
objective and sent him tumbling into orgasm, and Ohtori because the altered
angle had caused Amano to brush against something inside him that made him see
stars. Literally; bright bursts of colour exploded against his tightly closed
eyelids.
Amano thrust twice more before he finally collapsed, spent, and each motion
dragged the head of his cock over that exquisitely sensitive place inside
Ohtori again. Shivering at the sudden onslaught of unexpected pleasure, Ohtori
moaned when it stopped and left him feeling only the slow burn again.
All right, maybe this wasn't entirely one-sided after all. If he'd been feeling
that with every thrust right from the start, Ohtori thought he might have been
the first one to come despite the initial agony of it. Dazed by the combination
of pleasure and pain, Ohtori trembled as he struggled to hold both their weight
on his shaky arms.
"Kazuya..." it came out as a whine, and Ohtori swallowed. Now that the other
boy wasn't moving any more the pain was fading, leaving him suffering the
aftereffects of that starburst of pleasure. Amano had stopped stroking him, and
his hand was just loosely clasped around Ohtori's cock as the smaller boy tried
to recover from what had apparently been a very intense orgasm.
"Sorry," Amano gasped, his hand tightening and starting to move again. Ohtori
shuddered with pleasure, focusing on the familiar feel of his boyfriend's hand
around him instead of the full ache still reminding him of what they'd done.
Amano's movements became steadier as he recovered, and Ohtori's breathing
quickened as he finally neared the edge again.
He cried out as his body spasmed and contracted around Amano's softening cock,
making pain spike briefly through him again. It wasn't enough to deter his
orgasm, though, and he came all over Amano's hand and the comforter beneath
them. It wasn't the best he'd ever experienced, not by a long shot, but it
wasn't the worst either. He suspected that if Amano had still been hitting that
spot inside him when he came it would have been really intense, though. The
thought was appealing enough that he found he was willing to do this again,
even though he'd at first thought that there was no way he'd want to repeat
this experience.
His arms gave out on him at last, and Ohtori collapsed down onto the bed. The
movement made Amano slip out of him with one last frisson of pain, but Ohtori
barely registered it this time through the haze of orgasm. He did make a face
as he realized he was lying in the wet spot, however.
"I'm sorry," Amano apologized softly, slowly moving off him to lie beside him.
Ohtori wrapped the smaller boy in his arms and pulled him close, tucking
Amano's head under his chin and just focusing on the familiar touch of his
boyfriend's body against his.
"It's okay," Ohtori assured him, nuzzling his hair. "Really, it is. We're both
new at this, we'll figure it out." That part of him that had objected earlier
was protesting that he wasn't sure he wanted to do this again, no matter how
good it had felt at the end, but it was getting fainter and easier to ignore.
He'd taken the biggest step; he'd done it the first time. Whatever reservations
he might have had about it were irrelevant now. They'd done it once, so it
would be pretty stupid for him to object to doing it again. What possible
reason could he give? It would only make Amano convinced once more that Ohtori
was losing interest in him.
An odd sensation struck him, and he blinked. Then made a face. "Uh... I
think... I need to go clean up," he said in a bit of a rush. Amano stared at
him in confusion as he pulled away and scrambled off the bed, then started
laughing in realization. Muttering something uncomplimentary back at his
boyfriend, Ohtori bolted for the bathroom. It hadn't occurred to him that what
Amano left behind in him wasn't just going to stay there. Oh, the things the
movies and locker room jokes didn't tell you.
When he returned a few minutes later with a sheepish expression on his face,
Amano had pulled the comforter off and bundled it into the laundry. The pianist
was lying beneath the rest of the sheets, waiting for him with an amused look
still on his face. The amusement faded a bit as he saw the stiff way Ohtori was
walking, though. "Sore?" he asked, sitting up and pushing his now messy
ponytail back off his shoulder.
"A bit," Ohtori admitted in an understatement. He crawled under the sheets and
settled in, pulling Amano close against him once more. "Don't worry about it,
I'll be fine. I'm not hurt, just... stretched." Though after the way it had
hurt at first, he'd been more than a little relieved not to see any blood as
he'd cleaned himself up. He wasn't going to admit that part, though. Amano
would only feel guilty, and there was no real reason for him to.
"I love you, Choutarou," the pianist said, sighing in what sounded like
contentment as he rested his head on Ohtori's shoulder and closed his eyes.
"Love you, too," Ohtori echoed, the words still feeling strange but coming a
bit more easily now. He felt Amano smile into his shoulder, and couldn't help
smiling a bit as well. He was sore, and exhausted, and very glad he didn't have
a match or practice tomorrow. But he'd made Amano happy again, and that was
worth a little discomfort on his part.
Privately however, he resolved not to ever, ever mention that it had been an
image of Shishido that had gotten him through the toughest parts.
***** Chapter 17 *****
The sharp, shrill sound of his cell phone ringing jerked Ohtori out of a
completely exhausted slumber. Really, he thought muzzily to himself as he tried
to drag himself the rest of the way out of sleep so he could find the phone, he
should to know better than to not go to bed early the night before a match. An
important match, no less.
But Amano was so, well... tempting, when he wanted to be, and he was always
most eager right before Ohtori had to go off to spend time with Shishido. A
last remnant of the jealousy, he supposed, but one he couldn't really object
to. Even if it did leave him rather more tired than he ought to be the next
day.
The phone stopped ringing, and Ohtori gave up on the effort to wake himself. He
was too tired even to be able to recognize who was calling by the ringtone. He
snuggled back into the pillows, drifting off again. The alarm would wake him in
plenty of time to get to the match. Whoever was calling him would just have to
wait until then.
At least having a match the next day gave him an ironclad reason not to agree
to go all the way with Amano. They'd gotten much better at sex - helped a great
deal by the fact that unlike Ohtori, Amano wasn't too shy to just walk into a
drugstore and buy lubricant. Although Ohtori had come to enjoy it when he was
able to come with Amano rubbing over that spot inside him, it still hurt a
great deal at the beginning and left him sore afterwards. He didn't like doing
it very often, which had gotten him into a couple of arguments with Amano, but
even his over-eager boyfriend had to admit that it left him in no condition to
play tennis afterwards.
The phone rang again, startling him back out of the doze he'd fallen into.
Sighing, he gave in. If it was important enough for the person to keep trying,
he probably ought to answer it. Groaning, he leaned down off the bed and fished
for the pants that had been somewhat hastily discarded the night before. He
finally found them and fumbled the phone out of the pocket just before it would
have gone to voicemail again.
"Ohtori," he mumbled, slumping back onto the mattress and rubbing at his eyes,
wondering who was calling him so damn early. From behind him Amano wrapped an
arm around his waist and snuggled close, still mostly asleep as well.
"Choutarou, where the hell are you?" Shishido's half-frantic voice came from
the other end. "You sound like you're still asleep!"
"Shishido-san?" he said, surprised. He felt Amano stiffen against him and knew
his boyfriend was completely awake now, and probably listening hard. He yawned
and forced his eyes open. "I am still asleep. Why do you sound so panicked?"
"Because if you're not here in twenty fucking minutes we forfeit the damn
match!" Shishido snapped, his words jolting Ohtori much closer to full
wakefulness.
"What?" Ohtori half sat up, looking blearily around the room for the clock.
"What time is it?"
"Twenty to ten," Amano and Shishido replied on the same breath. That was more
than enough to do the job of pulling Ohtori into full awareness.
"What?" Disbelieving, he bolted upright, turning to stare both at the clock and
his boyfriend. "What the hell? Kazuya, I thought I told you to set the alarm
for eight!"
The pianist muttered something vaguely defensive about the alarm not going off,
and Ohtori uttered a rare curse. "Damn it. I'll be there, Shishido-san, don't
worry." He was already scrambling out of bed, reaching for his clothes. Screw
showering and brushing his teeth, he could do that later at the facilities of
the club where the tournament was being held.
There was silence for a long moment on the other end, and Ohtori suspected his
partner was absorbing the knowledge that Ohtori obviously hadn't spent the
night alone, and probably not in his own bed, either. "It's more than twenty
minutes from where you are to here, isn't it?" he asked at last.
"I'll find a way," Ohtori promised grimly. "Stall them if you can!" He knew the
request was pointless even as he made it. Tournament rules were bent for no
one, not even semi-finalists.
"Kazuya, your father has a car, doesn't he?" he asked as he shut his phone and
dropped it into his pocket before pulling the pants on quickly. "Could you
please ask him if he'd be willing to drive me over to the club? I can't believe
the alarm didn't go off!"
"What's the big deal?" Amano wanted to know, watching his frantic haste with a
puzzled air and making no move to get himself out of bed. "I thought you said
your game probably wouldn't even start until noon."
"The game doesn't start until noon, but registration ends at ten," Ohtori
replied tightly. "If I'm not there to sign in, Shishido-san and I have to
forfeit the match. Please go ask him, Kazuya." He'd call a cab if he had to,
but they were expensive and he'd have to wait for it to get here. If his
boyfriend's father would drive him he should just barely make it in time, he
didn't have a moment to waste.
"You have to what?" Finally Amano was moving, sliding out of the bed and
grabbing for his own clothes. "That's stupid! Why should it matter if you're
there early or not, as long as you're there for the game?"
"Because they want to be sure the game will happen," Ohtori explained, his
voice somewhat muffled as he pulled his shirt on. He didn't bother to tuck it
into his slacks, taking the time to search for his socks instead. "There's all
kinds of things that have to be cancelled and arrangements to be made if one of
the games doesn't go ahead, especially at this stage. Damn it, where are my
socks?"
"My side of the bed, on the floor," Amano said matter-of-factly, pulling the
tie out of his messy ponytail and running his fingers through his hair quickly
to make himself marginally presentable. "I'll go talk to my dad."
With that he unlocked the door and darted out into the hall, leaving Ohtori
behind to finish gathering his things. He stuffed everything important into his
tennis bag, knowing he could borrow anything he forgot from Shishido if
necessary. So long as he had his racquet and spare, his shoes and his clothes,
that was all he really needed.
When he emerged from the bedroom with his tennis bag over his shoulder, looking
very harried, he found Amano already waiting with his father in the front hall.
"I'm terribly sorry for the imposition, Amano-san," Ohtori apologized to the
older man, bowing. "It's very rude of me to ask for help in fixing an error
made through my own foolishness."
"It's not an imposition, Ohtori-kun," Amano's father assured him. He was
slender and dark, much like his son, but without the delicate features Amano
had inherited from his beautiful mother. "I'm glad to help. Hurry now, we don't
want you to be late."
Ohtori didn't need to be told twice. He followed them both down to the tiny
parking lot of the apartment building where the family car was apparently kept.
Not many people in Tokyo really bothered with cars, because the traffic was so
bad - how the traffic could be bad when nobody seemed to drive anywhere was
something Ohtori had never really understood, but it was just one of those
things you took for granted.
Once in the car and heading down the road, Ohtori found his eyes glued to the
clock on the dashboard. They had less than fifteen minutes, and the club was
fairly far from Amano's home. His hands clenched on the strap of his bag, the
nylon handle digging into his skin as his heart pounded in his throat. If they
lost this match because he'd been too stupid to double-check the alarm,
Shishido was never going to forgive him. He'd never forgive himself.
"Relax, Ohtori-kun, we'll make it in time," Amano's father assured him from the
front seat. Ohtori looked up from the clock long enough to see the man
regarding him with kind eyes in the rearview mirror. "The traffic is light, and
I know some shortcuts towards that area."
"Thank you," Ohtori breathed, relaxing slightly. Only slightly; there were half
a dozen things that could still conspire to make him late.
"I must admit I'm a little surprised you have a game today," the older man
continued blithely, and Ohtori blinked. "I thought you boys were going to a
concert this afternoon? Or do I have my dates mixed up?"
"Concert?" Ohtori repeated, surprised. He and Amano had made plans to attend a
concert that afternoon, a one day only musical exhibition by a world-famous
violinist that Sakaki had recommended to them. They'd bought the tickets months
ago, long before Ohtori had even thought about entering this tournament. In all
honesty Ohtori hadn't expected it to be a conflict when he and Shishido had
signed up for this one, because he hadn't imagined they would make it to the
semifinals. This was a much larger tournament than the one they'd first played
in, and accordingly attracted much better players.
When they'd won the quarterfinals last weekend, though, Ohtori had given up his
concert tickets without a second thought, selling them to another of the former
violinists from the orchestra. While he was a bit regretful at missing such a
wonderful opportunity, there was no way in hell he was missing the chance to
play in the semifinals of such a major tournament. This was the sort of match
that scouts and potential sponsors attended, looking for new up-and-coming
players. If he and Shishido could get a sponsor they'd be able to attend more
and better tournaments, and not be limited to what they could reach from home.
"No sir, I had to give up my ticket when we made it to this round of the
tournament," he explained. He caught a glimpse of Amano sinking lower into the
front passenger seat, as if he was embarrassed. What would possibly be
embarrassing about Ohtori explaining why he wasn't going to the concert?
He had an inkling of the answer when Amano's father answered, "Really? That's
strange. It was just yesterday Kazuya was asking me if I could drive you both
there, wasn't it?" He glanced at his son, who mumbled something that could have
been agreement or denial.
A suspicion started to form in the back of Ohtori's mind, but he couldn't say
anything. Not here, not in front of Amano's father. Instead he replied with
forced cheer, "I guess he must have forgotten that I couldn't go until I
reminded him later that day. It was kind of a sudden change of plans."
If he could have caught Amano's eye he'd have glared a question, but the other
boy was very carefully not looking at him. It would have to wait. He settled
back in his seat, trying to ignore the sour acid of suspicion and anger
building in his stomach.
He didn't get a chance to say anything when they pulled into the parking lot of
the club, either, because he had barely two minutes to find the registration
desk. He scrambled out of the car almost before it had come to a full stop,
thanking Amano's father breathlessly and throwing a belated invitation to stay
and watch the game over his shoulder. If he got an answer he didn't hear it,
already halfway across the parking lot as he ran full tilt for the door.
The registration desk thankfully wasn't difficult to find, but there was a
large crowd of people between him and it and the clock on the high post above
it said he had about thirty seconds to get there. For once ignoring his
manners, Ohtori made full use of his greater height and weight to shove through
the groups of people, heading straight for the desk rather than weaving around
the little knots. He didn't even bother muttering apologies to the people left
indignant in his wake, too intent on his goal.
"I"m here!" he exclaimed as he finally burst through the last of the crowd into
the clear space in front of the desk. Shishido was waiting there, clearly
beside himself, but the older boy breathed a huge sigh at the sight of his
partner.
"Fucking hell, Choutarou, cutting it close!" he muttered, turning to the
tournament official. "See? He's here. With a whole five seconds to spare, even.
So we're playing."
The official nodded and stamped their papers, handing them back to a very
relieved Shishido. "Your game starts in two hours," the woman informed them,
sparing a smile for the panting and disheveled Ohtori. "Change rooms are to the
left, and you can warm up in any of the courts not marked as reserved for the
matches. Good luck."
Catching his breath, Ohtori followed his partner towards the indicated change
rooms. "What the hell happened?" Shishido asked him, scowling. "It's not like
you to be late for anything, much less something this important."
"The alarm didn't go off," Ohtori said, swallowing his building anger. He
didn't know for sure that his suspicion was correct. Maybe the alarm really had
just failed to ring, or maybe Amano had accidentally set it for the wrong time.
There were half a dozen innocuous explanations for what had happened - though
few if any of them accounted for why Amano would have asked his father
yesterday to take them to the concert. He'd been there when Ohtori had sold his
ticket, and he'd been listening to Ohtori get more and more excited about this
game all week. There was no way he'd 'forgotten' that Ohtori wasn't going with
him.
Now wasn't the time to think about it, however. He needed to focus on getting
warmed up and into the right mindset for the game. This was going to be one of
their hardest battles ever, and that was saying something. This whole
tournament had been a succession of 'hardest battles ever'. He was amazed
they'd made it as far as they had, even as he burned with a sense of pride in
their accomplishment and the determination to make it all the way to the top.
"You picked a hell of a time to finally have Murphy's Law catch up with you,"
Shishido muttered shaking his head and clapping Ohtori on the shoulder. "Then
again, I guess it wouldn't be Murphy's Law if it didn't choose the absolute
worst time to strike, right?"
"Yeah," Ohtori agreed, forcing a laugh. The sound was hollow, and Shishido gave
him an odd look. "At least I made it in time," he hurried on, before Shishido
could say anything. "Come on, let's get changed and go have a look at the court
we'll be playing on, then warm up."
Somehow he managed to divert his partner's attention and keep it diverted
throughout the warm-up. They stretched out and then rallied a bit, just to get
their breathing and heart rate up. Then more stretching, helping each other by
leaning against the other's back to push the stretch carefully further. At
least at this point it had become reflex for them both to ignore the sexual
tension that soared between them when they did this. Through it all Shishido
kept up a stream of their usual pre-game chatter, laughing and joking the way
he always did when they were together.
Ohtori's responses were half hearted at best, though he did what he could to
get into the familiar routine. His anger at his boyfriend was still eating at
him, and he desperately wished he'd had time to confront Amano before the game.
He should have insisted Amano follow him inside or something. But what
explanation could he possibly have given the other boy's father?
It was fraying his concentration, though, and that was completely unacceptable.
He could tell Shishido was worried about him, but there was nothing he could do
to reassure his partner. He'd just have to go out there, play his best, and
confront Amano afterwards.
"You ready?" Shishido asked him as they did their last minute checks at the
bench beside the court, waiting for the referee to declare the start of the
game. Atobe hadn't been able to make it to this match so they were playing
without a bench coach today. While Ohtori did appreciate their former captain's
assistance, sometimes he thought it was better when it was just him and
Shishido.
Tugging sharply at his shoelace to make sure it was tight and wouldn't snap
under pressure, Ohtori nodded shortly. Play now, think about your messed up
love life later, he ordered himself. Taking a deep breath, he straightened and
grabbed his racquet.
This time it was Shishido who offered the high five, a variation on their
ritual. Ohtori slapped his hand and hung on, and his partner squeezed his hand
tightly. "Let's get out there and kick some ass," the older boy said firmly,
and Ohtori nodded.
They lost the spin and their opponents chose to receive first. Ohtori stood at
the service line and bounced the ball, trying to focus on the rhythm and
familiar sound to help him concentrate. Shishido was up near the net; they'd
learned a couple of new formations that made it easier to deal with anyone who
could return Ohtori's serve. At this level of competition, the Scud Serve was
no longer a guaranteed service ace.
When he was as centered as he felt he was going to get, he caught the ball and
began the toss. "Ikkyuu... nyuu... kon!" he shouted, snapping his racquet up
and forwards as he lunged up to meet the ball on its descent.
With a horrible sound that he'd hoped he would never hear again the ball
smacked straight into the net, bowing it out so far he almost wondered if the
ball was going to tear through. "Fault!" the ref shouted as Ohtori stared at
the net.
What the hell? He hadn't hit a Scud Serve into the net since the night Shishido
had forced him to keep serving over and over until he finally got it right. The
feel of the correct motion was burned into his brain now, and more importantly
into his muscle memory. How could he have missed?
"Don't mind, Choutarou," Shishido called from the net, glancing back over his
shoulder at his partner. His dark eyes flashed, and Ohtori drew a breath before
he nodded in return.
Taking the next ball from the match attendant who'd run out to offer it, Ohtori
squeezed it, testing the resistance. Maybe the last one had gone dead or
something. Usually they tested the balls being used in tournaments pretty
thoroughly, but it was possible a dead one had snuck in.
This ball was fine, though. Tossing it up, he arched his back and braced
himself. "Ikkyuu... nyuu... kon!"
This time he knew it was going low even before it hit the net. Panting slightly
with exertion, he stood at the baseline and stared at the place the ball had
hit. He was actually a bit amazed that this one hadn't torn a hole right
through.
"Double fault!" the ref called. "Love-fifteen!"
"Pull it together, Choutarou!" his partner admonished him as they switched
sides for the next point. "You're bending your wrist too much. You know better,
damn it."
"Yes," he agreed with his partner. Now the anger he'd been harbouring for Amano
had found a new target. He did know better, damn it. How many hundreds, even
thousands of times had he hit this serve since Shishido had helped him perfect
it? Why was it falling apart now, of all times?
He bounced the new ball a couple of times, trying to calm himself. It was a
futile effort, and if he kept waiting until he regained his balance he was just
going to get in trouble for stalling the game. His eyes burning with fury and
determination, he tossed the ball high into the air.
"Ikkyuu nyuu kon!" He slammed the racquet forwards, and for a second he thought
this time he'd succeeded. He'd never had as much trouble getting the ball over
when he was serving from this side.
It was just barely too low; the ball slammed into the cord at the top of the
net, ricocheted into the air, and came back down on their side. "Fault!" the
referee called again, and Ohtori snarled wordlessly in frustration. Shishido
said nothing this time, but Ohtori was certain he could read the words in his
hard-eyed gaze. 'What the fuck are you playing at?'
Ohtori's only answer was a silent snarl as he grabbed the next ball. What the
hell was wrong with him? Was his concentration really so shot that he couldn't
even execute his trademark serve from the side he'd always done well on?
This time when he served, the familiar chant was more a shout of defiance. He
made an extra effort not to bend his wrist too much and ended up
overcompensating.
The ball stayed high, but it angled too far out to the side. Time seemed to
slow like one of those bad movie special effects as Ohtori watched the ball's
path in horror. It slammed into Shishido's upper right shoulder, just barely to
one side of his spine. The sound of the impact and his partner's pained cry
rang in his ears until he wanted to scream to drown it out.
The world snapped back into normal speed as Shishido dropped his racquet and
collapsed, ending up hanging half off the net with his uninjured arm. Even from
the baseline Ohtori could see the way his partner's face was twisted in pain.
He'd seen that look before, far too many times. He'd never thought he would see
it again, had sworn that he would never again be the one to put that look on
Shishido's face.
"Shishido-san!" Ohtori's shout was laced with horror and emotional agony bad
enough to match the physical pain his partner was suffering. Without a thought
Ohtori dropped his own racquet and raced to the net.
He beat the tournament medics by a heartbeat, dropping to his knees and
clutching at Shishido's uninjured shoulder to try to help support him.
"Shishido-san! Oh gods, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry... are you okay? Can you
move your arm? Oh gods..."
"Not sure if that actually hurts more than it used to, or if I'd just managed
to forget how bad it really was," Shishido ground out, somehow able to give
Ohtori a wry look though the pain. "Thought you said you were never gonna do
that again, Choutarou?"
He hissed and swore as one of the medics gently manipulated his arm, testing to
see if anything was broken. "I'm fine, it's just a bruise," Shishido snapped at
them irritably. "I ought to know, it's not the first time I've been hit by his
serve. Stop fussing, damn it, I'm fine."
"My serve wasn't nearly as fast back then," Ohtori murmured, anguished. "And
you weren't expecting this. Gods, Shishido-san..."
"Just help me to the bench so I can stretch this out," Shishido interrupted him
before he could really get started. Ohtori nodded and supported him over to
their bench. By the rules of the tournament they got five minutes for Shishido
to try to recover from the injury before they had to either continue or
forfeit. Ohtori couldn't imagine how Shishido could be planning to continue
playing for a whole three sets; it was his racquet arm that Ohtori had struck.
"Choutarou," Shishido's voice was harsh, and he shook the younger boy by the
shoulder with his good hand. "Look at me, damn it." Miserably Ohtori met his
eyes, and his partner scowled at him. "I don't know what the hell is with you
today. You can tell me all about it and I'll help you work it out, whatever it
is... after the match."
"I'm sorry," Ohtori mumbled once more, and Shishido shook him again.
"Don't be sorry, just pull it together. You don't bring outside problems onto
the court. The only things you should be thinking about are you and me, our
opponents, the ball, the net, and the court. That's it, and you know it."
Nodding, Ohtori dropped his head in shame. He did know better. He was letting
his anger at Amano distract him, and he was going to end up losing this game
for them. At this rate he might as well have just gone to the damn concert.
Shishido made a noise of frustration and released his shoulder. Ohtori half
expected a blow next, though Shishido had never lashed out at him before.
Instead strong fingers grabbed his chin and wrenched his eyes back up.
"Look at me," Shishido demanded, blue eyes blazing. "Don't you dare look away.
Focus."
Staring into his eyes, Ohtori felt almost like he was burning up from the
inside out under the fire of that gaze. They were only inches apart, and
Shishido's gaze was unrelenting. He desperately wanted to look away, to shift
his focus just enough to escape the full force of it, but any time his eyes
started to dart away Shishido's fingers tightened briefly on his skin in
warning.
Swallowing hard, Ohtori forced himself to just sit and let himself be scorched.
Once it was clear that he wasn't going to look away he expected Shishido to say
something else scathing, or at least to drop his hand. He did neither of those
things, just sitting there staring silently back at Ohtori, a challenge in his
eyes.
Slowly something almost akin to panic began to build in Ohtori's chest. He felt
like Shishido could see straight down into his soul, as if everything he'd ever
tried to hide from his partner was being laid out for the older boy to see.
Worse, it almost seemed like he could see Shishido's soul in return, blazing
out at him from behind those dark eyes.
He was trapped, and he couldn't have moved away now if he'd tried. Nothing
existed except him and his partner. There was no court, no referee, no
opponents, no audience. He was totally oblivious to the whispers and
scandalized titters sweeping through the observers as they continued to just
sit there on the bench, staring at each other.
Was this what people meant when they talked about a 'soul deep connection'?
He'd thought he and Shishido had been connected before, but compared to this it
felt like they might as well have been trying to signal each other in Morse
code. It was frightening, having someone see that far into you.
Finally something broke the stalemate. "Hey, you two!" the referee called, loud
enough to break the near-trance Ohtori had fallen into. "Your five minutes are
almost up, are you playing or forfeiting?"
When Ohtori would have glanced over at him, Shishido's hand tightened again and
held him still. "We're playing," the older boy called back, not looking away
from his partner. Lowering his voice, he murmured for Ohtori's ears only,
"Better?"
"Better?" Ohtori echoed, feeling almost dazed. Taking stock of himself, he was
startled to realize that at some point his angry breathing had calmed, and the
fury at himself and his boyfriend had subsided. Not vanished, no... it was
still there, and if he poked at it he was certain it would return in full
force. But as long as he left it alone, as long as he clung to the sense that
he and Shishido were the only things in the world that mattered, he was able to
set it aside.
"Good," Shishido nodded sharply and finally released him, apparently reading
his answer in his eyes. "If you start to lose yourself again, just focus on me,
all right? You've been my anchor often enough, it's about time I started paying
you back."
"Shishido-san..." Ohtori might have said more, if they hadn't been out of time.
Then again, he might not have, because he couldn't seem to find any words. How
had Shishido done that? Just how well did he know Ohtori? What did it mean,
this powerful sense of connection that still seemed to linger between them even
now?
Worry about it later, he told himself as Shishido stood from the bench and
offered him a hand up. You've got a game to play.
He took the offered hand and let Shishido pull him up. The contact between them
made his body tingle like it always did, but this time it seemed almost...
irrelevant, somehow. They'd just shared a much deeper connection that nothing
physical could ever hope to reproduce - though he had a feeling that if he
allowed himself to even contemplate the idea of having sex while staring into
Shishido's eyes like that, he was never going to be able to settle for anything
less ever again.
Taking a deep breath, he squeezed his partner's hand and shoved everything else
aside. "Let's do it," he said firmly. Grabbing the racquet that somebody had
apparently brought over to them while he hadn't been paying attention, he
turned and strode back towards the baseline. This time, he knew, the Scud Serve
was going to stay true... and so would he and Shishido.
***** Chapter 18 *****
They lost in the end, in no small part because of the restriction to Shishido's
movement caused by the injury to his shoulder. Their opponents won both of the
first two sets, but Ohtori and Shishido made them work hard for them at 7-5 and
6-4. Ohtori was just as glad they hadn't had to play the third set, because by
the end of the second he could see the effort it was taking Shishido to move
his arm.
Under other circumstances he might have been drowning in guilt, but as they
left the change rooms Ohtori felt like he was walking on air. Loss or no loss,
they'd accomplished one of their greater goals today; they'd been approached by
a well-known tennis coach who wanted to take them on and train them.
In the end, there was only so much they could do to train on their own. Having
a real coach, one specifically experienced in training doubles pairs, would
make a huge difference to their success as a team.
"We still need a sponsor, though," Shishido reminded him as they walked through
the crowds towards the building exit. "That guy's not going to come cheap, no
matter how impressed with us he is. And we need to start looking at the bigger
tournaments. It all costs money." Despite his words of caution the older boy
had a grin plastered over his face that was just this side of ridiculous.
"Maybe I can get Atobe to convince his father to sponsor us. The Atobe Group
certainly has the money to spare."
"We'll get a sponsor," Ohtori assured him, still giddy. "If we're already doing
this well, think how much better we'll be with coaching. We've placed well in
two tournaments now; we might even be seeded in the next. If we don't win that
one, I'll eat my racquet." He shook his head, hefting his bag a little higher
on his shoulder.
"In the meantime, I'll pay for the coach," he added. When Shishido would have
objected, Ohtori just ploughed right on over top of him, blithely ignoring his
partner's expected protests. "My family can afford it, and yours can't," he
said simply, shrugging. "Just smile and nod for now, Shishido-san. We need this
coach, and you know your family can't spare the money. If it bothers you that
much, you can pay me back later. I know you're good for it."
"Damn straight I am," Shishido replied, momentarily disgruntled. Shaking his
head, he sighed and clapped Ohtori on the shoulder. "You're right, and thank
you. I let my pride get in the way of my tennis once; if nothing else, I try
not to make the same mistakes twice."
"Good." Glad that he wasn't going to have to spend hours arguing about
something they both knew had no other reasonable solution, Ohtori's smile
widened. At that moment, he was pretty much on top of the world. He didn't
think there was anything that could ruin his good mood.
They hit the exit, and even the weather seemed to be falling in line with his
mood. It had been gray and sort of dreary when he'd arrived, but now the clouds
were clearing up and the sun was shining through. "We should go get your arm
checked out," he said solicitously.
"Will you stop about my arm already?" Shishido asked in exasperation, swatting
at him. "It's not a big deal, all right? I'll put an icepack on it when I get
home and I'll be fine tomorrow."
"Still." Ohtori couldn't help but worry. He knew what Shishido was refraining
from saying; that he'd taken more than one Scud Serve in the past and lived
through it, and that was true. That didn't make it any less painful for him to
know he was once again responsible for hurting his partner that way.
Before he could continue to press his point, however, the last person he wanted
to see at the moment stepped away from the wall of the building and into their
path. "Choutarou. I want to talk to you," Amano said flatly, his pale grey eyes
giving nothing of his thoughts away.
"Kazuya." Ohtori's voice was no more welcoming than his boyfriend's had been,
and he felt Shishido stiffen beside him. Just that quickly his good mood slid
away as he was reminded why he had been angry enough to accidentally serve
straight into his partner.
"I want to talk to you," Amano repeated, crossing his arms. "In private." He
glared at Shishido as if he expected the older boy to object, and Ohtori could
see the silent snarl in his partner's eyes.
"Shouldn't you be at the concert?" Ohtori asked before Shishido could snap
something in return. His voice remained cool, and his words served as a
reminder to his boyfriend that if anyone had the right to be upset at the
moment, it wasn't Amano.
"I was hoping to catch you between settings and apologize to you," the pianist
said, his eyes flashing briefly with anger before he retreated behind his icy
demeanour again. From his tone, Ohtori somehow doubted the other boy was still
planning to apologize.
"They're called 'sets'," he sighed, raking his free hand through his hair. "And
we're not allowed to talk to... oh, never mind," he interrupted himself. Amano
wasn't there for Ohtori to remind him again about the rules and terms of
tennis. "Fine, we can talk. We might as well do it now as later. Shishido-san,
will you excuse me, please?"
"Yeah." Shishido looked reluctant, but Ohtori was grateful that he agreed
without protest. "I'll go, uh, wait by the driveway. We've got a while before
the next train in our direction gets here."
"Thank you," Ohtori said, and watched him head off for a moment before turning
to his boyfriend. "Not here," he said when Amano seemed perfectly willing to
start talking the moment Shishido was out of earshot. "It's too public. Come
on."
He led the way back around the corner of the building Amano had been leaning
on, heading for the small building that housed the machinery that kept the huge
air dome over the courts until summer came. The air pumps and fans were
relatively noisy, and nobody but maintenance people ever came back here, so
they were safe enough to talk without a curious reporter overhearing them.
"What the hell was that all about?" Amano burst out the moment Ohtori turned
towards him. "That was about the least platonic-looking thing I've ever seen
anybody participate in while fully clothed and in public."
"What?" Caught off guard by the totally unexpected attack, Ohtori just stared
at him. "Kazuya, what on earth are you talking about? You've seen me play
tennis before."
"I'm not talking about the game, Choutarou," Amano snapped back. "I'm talking
about the five minutes you two spent gazing adoringly into each other's eyes.
Do you have any idea what people were whispering about the two of you?"
Oh, right. That. As intent as he'd become on the match, Ohtori had honestly
almost forgotten about how Shishido had forced him to focus. It probably had
looked odd to anyone watching, he had to admit. And, well... it had been a
rather intimate moment, though not quite in the way Amano was trying to imply.
A light flush suffused his cheeks.
"It's not..." he started to protest. Abruptly he cut himself off, shaking his
head. "No, you know what? That's not relevant here. I'm not going to let you
distract me from what happened this morning, Kazuya. What the hell was your
father talking about? You knew I'd sold my ticket."
"I got another one," Amano said, as if it were perfectly logical for him to
have done so.
"Why?" Ohtori demanded. "For what possible reason could you have done that? You
knew I had a game today, and I told you that it was likely to go too long for
it to be worth it for me to try to get to the concert afterwards. That's why I
sold my ticket in the first place! And I was right, it is late, and we only
even played two sets. Why would you do that?"
"Because you're wasting your time here," Amano said, eyes narrowing as his face
tightened in anger. "Damn it, we should have been at that concert today. It was
a once in a lifetime opportunity, and you were crazy to throw it away like
that!"
"I was not 'wasting my time'. This was the semifinals of a very important
tournament!" Ohtori replied, his own voice freezing over as he started to
become truly angry again. "If we'd dropped out so I could go to a concert,
there is no way anyone would ever have been willing to sponsor or coach us!
They wouldn't take us seriously. There will be other concerts."
"There will be other tournaments," Amano countered, his voice chilling as well.
"Look around you, Choutarou!" He swept his arm out in a gesture that
encompassed the dome over the courts. "Tennis is your hobby. Music is your
life. It's great that you enjoy sports and that you're good at them, and it's
probably good for you to be so active. Fine. But you're letting it interfere
with what's really important, and you're losing your focus! You're going to
regret it in a couple of years when other people start pulling ahead of you
because you haven't practiced enough."
"You..." Ohtori stared at him in disbelief. The suspicion had been there, but
some part of him had still wanted to believe that the whole thing had been a
mix-up. "You didn't set the alarm on purpose, didn't you? You did know that if
I missed registration we'd have to forfeit the match. And you were planning to
console me by surprising me with the extra ticket you'd bought just in case."
Amano didn't need to confirm it; Ohtori could read it in the angry set of his
eyes. Most other people wouldn't have been able to see past the chilled
expression, but Ohtori was far too familiar with using coldness as a defence
not to be able to see through it in someone else. Especially someone he knew
this well.
"You deliberately exhausted me last night so I'd sleep in," he continued,
certainty growing in him with every word. "And then you didn't set the alarm.
Just what the hell do you think gives you the right to dictate what is and is
not important in my life?" Now it was his turn for his eyes to flash
dangerously. He was a full head taller than the pianist, and he used it to his
advantage now, looming over the smaller boy.
"For your information," he hissed out, beyond furious, "I haven't decided yet
whether music or tennis is going to be my career path. I've been delaying the
decision as long as possible. It's just as likely that it is going to be music
that ends up as my hobby, not the other way around."
"What?" Amano looked shocked and dismayed. Under other circumstances it might
have been funny to see the pianist so alarmed, but Ohtori wasn't laughing.
"Choutarou, you can't do that! You have a talent, a gift. You're one of the
best violinists I've ever played with. You have the potential to make a name
for yourself as a soloist, and that's not something many people will ever be
able to do. You have a responsibility not to throw that gift away!"
"I have a gift for tennis too, Kazuya," Ohtori said, voice low and dangerous.
"One of Japan's top doubles coaches approached Shishido-san and I today and
offered to train us. With his help, and if we keep playing the way we have
been, we're going to start getting invitations to the really serious matches.
By the time we're done high school we could go pro, or maybe even to the
Olympics. How is it any less my responsibility to make the most of that gift?"
"Oh, great, so now you're going to spend even more time training with him,"
Amano growled. "Am I even going to get to see you anymore?"
"Not if you keep this up," Ohtori said warningly. "Don't you bring Shishido-san
into this, damn it. This is not about him, this is about you trying to railroad
me into making the decisions you think are best for me!"
"I'm not bringing him into this," Amano replied, tone scathing. "I don't need
to. He never left. This has always been about you and him. I've never been
anything more than a substitute, have I?" When Ohtori just stared at him again,
he continued bitterly, "Someone showed me a picture of him today, from before
you were partners. Is that why you always ask me to wear my hair up? So you can
pretend I'm him?"
Completely shocked at the accusation, Ohtori was left grasping for words for a
long moment. "Excuse me?" he finally managed, the ice cracking again under the
sheer force of his fury. "Kazuya, we're Japanese. You cannot possibly hold the
fact that you and Shishido-san both had long, dark hair against me! Damn it, I
ask you to wear your hair that way because I think it looks hot! I barely even
knew Shishido-san when he had long hair, you do not remind me of him."
"Oh, don't give me that," Amano retorted. "You were on the same tennis team for
a year before he cut his hair."
"No, actually, we really weren't," Ohtori said, recovering some of the ice as
his poise returned to him. "You don't understand how the Hyoutei tennis club
works. I was a Regular, he was a sub-Regular. He was a singles player and I was
in doubles. We didn't talk to each other, practice together, or even use the
same clubhouse. And before I made the Regulars he was a sub-Regular and I was
just a freshman, completely beneath his notice."
He snorted, remembering the few encounters he'd had with Shishido before he'd
agreed to help the senior train to regain his spot on the team. "Frankly, what
little I did know of him I didn't think much of. He was as spoiled and arrogant
as Atobe-san, with none of Atobe-san's redeeming qualities. It wasn't until he
was dropped that I saw there was more to him than the vain peacock, and shortly
after that he cut his hair. When I picture him I have a hard time remembering
what he used to look like; I have to look two or three times to find him in old
team photos."
"Right, and I suppose the soul-gazing back in there was just something every
doubles team does to help them focus," Amano said sarcastically. "Give me
credit for a little intelligence, Choutarou. And you wonder why I don't trust
you with him!"
There was absolutely nothing he could say that was going to get through to his
boyfriend, Ohtori realized with a sort of weary resignation. Later it would
hurt, and hurt badly, but right now he was just emotionally overloaded. In the
end, nothing he had done had made a dent in Amano's distrust of him when it
came to Shishido. And in all honesty, Ohtori couldn't even entirely blame him.
No, he couldn't blame him... but that didn't mean he was just going to sit back
and accept it, either. "Kazuya, I can't go through this again. I thought I'd
finally managed to convince you that I would never, ever cheat on you. But if
you can't even respect me enough to trust me after all this time, then there's
no point to continuing to try." Looking deep into those angry, wounded silver
eyes, Ohtori said the words he suspected had been coming for far too long.
"It's over, Kazuya."
"Wh-what?" The pianist was startled, as if that was the last thing he'd
expected Ohtori to say. "You... you can't mean that. Choutarou, you're upset.
Fine, we'll talk about this later when we're both feeling more rational."
"No." Ohtori's voice was soft, but implacable. "I can't, Kazuya. You don't
trust me, and I can't convince you, and we're tearing ourselves to pieces over
it. It's hurting you, and it's killing me, and I just can't handle it any more.
It's over."
They stared at each other for a long moment, neither quite sure what to say.
Ohtori knew that most of the blame for this lay squarely on his shoulders. He'd
made a lot of mistakes over the last seven or eight months, some of which he
would probably regret for the rest of his life. Somehow, he knew this wasn't
one of them. As much as it was going to hurt when the anger wore off, it was
the only way to keep them from destroying each other.
As realization sank in that Ohtori was utterly serious and would not be swayed,
fury crept into Amano's expression. Ohtori braced himself, half expecting the
smaller boy to swing at him. Instead Amano's attack was entirely verbal, but
when he spoke Ohtori wasn't sure he wouldn't have preferred the punch. "So
that's it? What'd it take for him to convince you to break up with me? Better
yet, how long are you planning to wait before you run to his arms? A week? An
hour? Or are you just going to turn around and drag him to the nearest secluded
spot?"
Ohtori stiffened in renewed anger at the accusations, twice as hurtful for the
grain of truth to them. He couldn't deny that, once free of his relationship
with Amano, chances were extremely good he and Shishido would end up together
in fairly short order. They'd been dancing around each other for almost a year
now, and once there was nothing between them any more he doubted either of them
would be resist the next time temptation presented itself.
The fact that I'm even thinking about it in terms of 'freedom' should tell me
I'm doing the right thing, Ohtori thought painfully. "I can't deny that he's
one of my reasons for doing this, but he's not the main one," he said stiffly.
"The main reason is that I will not put up with anyone trying to run my life
for me. Not by physical things like not setting the alarm, and not by emotional
things like trying to restrict my friendships with other people so that you're
always front and center in my life!"
"Oh please." Amano's eyes glinted with pain and anger to match Ohtori's own.
Ohtori knew the other boy was hurt and lashing out, but he couldn't help but
react to his tone. Amano knew his weak spots far too well not to be effective
when trying to hurt him. "Hell, at this point it wouldn't surprise me if there
wasn't even any waiting involved. Is that why you keep putting me off? Have you
been screwing him, and didn't want me to see any evidence of it?"
Given half a second longer, Ohtori would have hit the other boy for daring to
even suggest such a thing. Damn it, maybe he'd made a lot of the mistakes in
their relationship, but he had not cheated! As tempted as he'd been, he'd never
given in, and he couldn't believe Amano could think that of him even in the
midst of this much anger.
He never got the chance to throw the punch, however. Before he could do more
than take a step forward Amano had been slammed up against the wall of the
machinery house, Shishido's hands clamped over his shoulders and pinning him in
place. The older boy was beyond merely furious, his blue eyes almost black with
rage and his face contorted into a snarl.
"Don't you ever fucking talk about Choutarou like that again!" his partner
hissed, pulling away and slamming Amano back into the wall again for emphasis.
"If I ever again hear you say something that dirty about him again, I will tear
your guts out and string my racquet with them, you hear me? You fucking take
that back!"
Choking, Amano struggled against his hold as Ohtori looked on in disbelief.
Where the hell had Shishido come from? How long had he been lurking around the
corner, listening? Long enough, apparently. "Shishido-san..."
"Haven't we had this discussion before, Shishido?" Amano croaked out, clearly
not cowed by the violence. "You're still acting like you're suffering from a
guilty conscience. How long did it take you to seduce him back to you? At least
I know I fucked him first..."
"Shishido-san!" Ohtori barely managed to grab the fist Shishido had drawn back
to smash into Amano's face. He held on with all his strength, knowing if he let
go there was going to be bloodshed. "Shishido-san, stop it. He's just trying to
hurt me! It's not worth it. Stop!"
"If you think I'm going to stand here and let someone shit-talk you like that,
Choutarou, you seriously need to think again," Shishido growled. "Let go, damn
it, I'm going to pound some manners into this little bastard!"
"No," Ohtori said firmly, tugging at the hand he held captive. "No, Shishido.
Don't you dare. If you hit him I will never forgive you, do you hear me? I'll
never play with you again!"
Disbelieving, Shishido stared at him, momentarily diverted from his anger at
Amano. Ohtori looked back at him steadily, wordlessly promising that he wasn't
bluffing. "You dropped the 'san'," Shishido finally observed somewhat
nonsensically.
"Oh, for..." Exasperated, Ohtori hauled at him again, trying to get him to back
off. "If I call you 'Ryou', will you let him go?"
"For that? Yeah," Shishido agreed, releasing Amano at last. He backed up a step
at Ohtori's continued urging, but didn't let up on his angry glare at the
pianist. "But if I ever hear about you harassing Choutarou, I will be the one
to make your life a living hell. Got me?"
Dusting himself off, Amano traded him glare for glare. "Have fun," he sneered.
"Enjoy it while it lasts. Given his track record so far, I'm sure it won't be
long before he starts looking around for someone else again."
Ohtori was glad he hadn't yet released Shishido's hand, because otherwise Amano
would have been going to the hospital. "Get the hell out of here," Ohtori
snapped at Amano. "I'm only going to save you from a broken nose so many times.
Next time I let him hit you."
For once choosing the wise course of action, Amano stalked off without saying
another word. Ohtori hung on to Shishido until the pianist was out of sight
around the corner before he released him with an exhausted sigh. His emotions
were finally catching up to him, anger and sorrow and hurt crashing down on him
all at once. He leaned back against the wall Shishido had pinned Amano to, not
sure his legs would hold him up otherwise.
"Arrogant and spoiled as Atobe, huh?" Shishido asked after a moment, prompting
a laugh that was half sob from Ohtori. "Choutarou? Fuck, are you okay?" The
older boy was clearly concerned, eyeing him with worry replacing the anger in
his eyes. "You're crying..."
"Am I?" Ohtori was surprised, but when he touched a shaking hand to his face,
he discovered that his partner was right. There were tears on his cheeks, and
more flowing down with every moment. Actually, that probably explained why it
was so difficult to see.
Furious at himself now, angry that he would lose control in public like this,
Ohtori sniffed and scrubbed at his face, trying to rub away the tears. "Gods,"
he choked out when they kept coming despite his best efforts. "Maybe I really
did love him. It hurts..."
Not as much as it had hurt when Shishido had cut him out after his confession,
but it was still a dull ache that seemed to take up all the space in his chest,
pushing everything else aside until it threatened to swallow the beat of his
heart. It still felt like it had been the right thing to do, but that didn't
stop it from hurting.
"Hey," Shishido's voice was uncharacteristically soft, and he wiped a missed
teardrop from the side of Ohtori's chin. "It's all right, you know. You guys
were going out for, what, seven months? Of course it hurts. You must've cared
about him to stay with him that long."
"I just..." To his horror Ohtori realized he was starting to sob, his loss of
control complete. Shishido tugged him down into an awkward embrace, and he
leaned on his partner's shoulder and cried himself out.
"I tried so hard," he whispered when he thought he could be coherent again.
"After everything he did for me, I just wanted to be worthy of his feelings for
me. I thought I was over you, I really did. Especially after what you did after
your birthday party. But..."
"But nothing," Shishido interrupted him, rubbing his back gently. "Choutarou,
sometimes it just doesn't work out. You gave it your best shot, but it was the
wrong time, the wrong circumstances. I know the way you are, you would have put
everything you had into saving it. It just wasn't meant to be."
"Not everything," Ohtori confessed miserably. "No matter how hard I tried, I
couldn't stop thinking about you in the end. You were right before, Shishido-
san. I wasn't being fair to either of you, and now I've managed to hurt
everyone involved."
"Wait a minute," Shishido protested lightly, obviously trying to distract him.
"I let him go because you promised to call me 'Ryou'! Why are we back to
'Shishido-san'?"
Despite himself, Ohtori gave a watery laugh. "I never said I would keep calling
you that," he said. "You should have stipulated that as part of the bargain."
When he forced himself to straighten, he saw that Shishido was giving him a wry
smile. "I guess I'll just have to keep finding ways to get you to bribe me with
it, until it becomes automatic. I like hearing you say my name."
Ohtori started to say something in reply, but his breath caught in his throat
and all the words flew out of his head as Shishido reached up and cupped his
cheek. There was a heated look in the older boy's eyes that hadn't been there a
moment before, but Ohtori was suddenly excruciatingly aware of the way they
were standing pressed together. What had been intended for comfort had turned
into something else entirely.
"Choutarou," Shishido murmured, his expression intent. "Gods, I feel like I've
waited forever for this..."
He's going to kiss me, Ohtori realized, feeling dazed as Shishido stretched up
towards him. He's really going to...
Unbidden, Amano's hateful words from earlier rang in his ears. 'How long will
it take before you run to his arms?'
"No," Ohtori gasped, rearing up to his full height and putting himself out of
reach unless Shishido went right up on tiptoe. "Gods, Shi... Ryou. We can't."
"What?" Shishido looked both frustrated and elated - presumably the latter was
for the fact that Ohtori had called him by given name. It wasn't hard to guess
what the frustration was for. "Why the hell not?"
"Because I won't prove him right, damn it," Ohtori replied, anguished. "I won't
give him cause to be able to point and say 'I knew it'. And because he deserves
better than that."
Blowing out a long breath, Shishido shook his head and took a step back. "I
know one of the things I like about you is your sense of integrity, but right
now I could wish you were just a bit less... integrated?"
Snorting with laughter, Ohtori gave him a rueful smile. "Please, Ryou. We've
screwed up so many times with each other; I don't want to give myself something
else to doubt or regret. It doesn't feel right to just turn away from him and
straight to you. I feel like I'm vindicating every jealous moment he ever had."
"All right, all right," Shishido agreed with a grimace. "You can have as much
time as you need, Choutarou. Hells, I've waited this long. And you're right,
the last thing we need is more fuck-ups between the two of us."
"Thank you," Ohtori said softly, ducking his head to hide his eyes with his
bangs. He bit his lip, trying not to start sniffling again. This had been a far
too emotional day for him, and he was starting to feel utterly exhausted by it
all. He needed to go crawl into bed, pull the covers over his head, and pretend
the rest of the world didn't exist until he got it all sorted out inside his
own mind.
"We should go," he said, bending to pick up his bag. "We've already missed one
train, I'm sure. We shouldn't miss the next."
"Choutarou."
When Ohtori turned to look back at his partner quizzically, he found his shirt
caught in a tight fist as he was dragged down into a passionate kiss. While he
was more than a little shocked, he also couldn't keep himself from responding.
Moaning into the kiss, he dropped his bag again and wrapped his arms around
Shishido, kissing back for everything he was worth.
In many ways it was really no different than kissing Amano had been, which
surprised Ohtori a bit. And yet it was on another level entirely, his body
aching almost instantly with the force of the pent-up passion behind it.
Shishido finally broke the kiss and stepped away, looking up at him. Ohtori
just stared back at him, too dazed to think of anything to say. "Just so we
know what we're waiting for," the older boy told him with a cheeky grin. His
voice betrayed him, though, coming out husky and half an octave lower than
usual. Ohtori shivered at the sound of it, and had to turn away so he wouldn't
be tempted to grab his partner and try that again.
"It's worth it," he said, his own voice a bit rougher than normal. "It's
definitely worth it."
***** Chapter 19 *****
It felt a little odd, walking onto the Hyoutei High grounds. It wasn't all that
far from the middle school, but Ohtori had never been there before. He didn't
actually know where the tennis courts were, but it was a pretty safe bet that
they'd be in the back of the building so that was the direction he headed in.
He got more than one double take from passing students on their way home after
club activities. His height made him look old enough to be a high school
student, he knew, but his uniform clearly marked him as a member of the
affiliated junior high. He couldn't help but smile to himself at their startled
looks.
The sound of balls against racquets soon told him he was going in the right
direction, and he rounded a corner to see several well-maintained courts in an
enclosure. Literally hundreds of students were practicing either playing
matches or doing drills or just running laps. The familiar Hyoutei colours
dominated, although the high school jerseys were designed differently. And, of
course, the fan contingent was strongly represented, flocks of girls (and not a
few boys) crowded around the fences and squealing among themselves.
Looking around, Ohtori could see the signs of recent construction. A building
that looked suspiciously newer than everything else stood off to one side, and
he laughed to see it. He didn't need three guesses to figure out what it was;
Atobe wasn't one to allow himself to languish in 'lesser' facilities when he
could simply spend a great deal of money to improve his surroundings.
And really, in the end it benefited the whole team. They'd certainly made good
use of the new clubhouse Atobe and Sakaki had built at the junior high, and
presumably it was still being made good use of even though Atobe was no longer
there.
Making his way to the fringes of the crowd of observers, Ohtori glanced around
the courts for anyone familiar. He saw several boys he recognized as having
been seniors in the club when he was on the team, but none of the other former
Regulars.
He got even more odd glances from this crowd, but he just smiled sweetly at
anyone who looked at him strangely. Finally he spotted a familiar blue cap, and
wormed his way through the crowd.
Shishido spotted him coming before he was close enough to call out without
raising his voice too much. "Choutarou!" he exclaimed, giving Ohtori a baffled
grin. "What the hell are you doing here? We don't even have a session with the
coach tonight, do we?" They had training sessions with their new coach on
weekends and two weeknights, usually later in the evening so it wouldn't
conflict with the tennis club for Shishido. While they sometimes would get
together just to hang out on the nights they weren't training, they usually
made plans for it ahead of time.
"No, but I've been wanting to come see the high school team and I figured now
was as good a day as any." Ohtori smiled back at him and leaned in against the
fence, lowering his voice conspiratorially. "Besides... in all honesty, I just
had to see Atobe-san chasing balls after you told me about it last weekend."
Laughing, Shishido jerked his head in the direction of one of the other courts.
"Over there. He tends to just stand around 'directing' if he can get away with
it, but you're in luck. Some of the seniors made him actually do his fair share
today."
Glancing over, Ohtori had to cough to hide an extremely amused laugh as he
caught sight of their former captain. Like all the other freshmen Atobe was
dressed in a gym uniform rather than the club jersey they hadn't yet 'earned',
and he looked a bit disgruntled as he gathered up balls from the side of the
court to return to the upperclassmen.
There really was something just... refreshing about seeing arguably one of the
most arrogant players ever to grace Hyoutei Gakuen's courts being forced to
perform the menial chores expected of a freshman. Just as in the junior high
club, freshmen weren't allowed to actually play in the beginning of the year.
"I have to admit I'm a little surprised he didn't bribe his way into being
allowed to try out for the team," Ohtori said, chuckling softly.
"What makes you think he didn't try?" Shishido countered with a grin, gesturing
at the new clubhouse. "This coach isn't as easily swayed as Sakaki was. He said
Atobe could stand to wait at least one term before playing, just like the rest
of us."
"I bet that didn't go over well," Ohtori commented, and Shishido laughed.
"You don't know the half of it. I'm just glad the term is almost over. If we
had to deal with him stalking around growling at everyone much longer, somebody
was going to end up in deep shit. He's not real good at being subservient to
his senpai, if you know what I mean."
"No, I wouldn't imagine he would be," Ohtori agreed, almost strangling on his
laughter. "For once I'm glad I'm not in your year. I bet he's difficult to deal
with right now."
"Hey, Shishido-kun!" someone in a jersey shouted before his partner could
answer him. "Quit slacking off and get back to work, we need more balls over
here."
His back still to the older boy, Shishido rolled his eyes and Ohtori stifled
another giggle. "Yes, senpai," Shishido called back, not sounding terribly
pleased by the order. "Look, practice gets out pretty soon, why don't you just
stick around?" he said quickly to Ohtori. "You're here anyway. I'm sure the
others wouldn't mind seeing you either."
"I was planning on it," Ohtori assured him. "Go on, before you get in trouble."
Shishido turned and jogged off to help the senior who had called him, and
Ohtori found a spot on the crowded bleachers. Looking out over the courts, he
picked out the rest of his former teammates. There was Mukahi's flash of
brightly dyed hair, over to the left; the small freshman was trotting around
distributing water bottles. Not far from him Oshitari was with another group of
first-years doing racquet drills. And... he looked again, searching for the
familiar mop of curls. Yes, there was Jirou, sound asleep on a bench. Nobody
seemed to be trying to wake him to perform his duties; apparently they'd
already learned the futility of trying in the months since the new school year
had started.
So strange, to see them all in gym clothes instead of a uniform. Stranger still
to see them doing first-year tasks rather than training with the Regulars. They
had all been sub-Regulars at the very least when Ohtori had first joined the
club in junior high as a freshman himself, so he had never before seen any of
them in this position.
As Shishido had said it wasn't too long before the captain declared the
practice over, and the juniors and seniors began to stream towards the
clubhouse. The freshmen of course had to remain until the courts were clean and
the nets tended to, but the main press of people was gone. Most of the
observers left as well once the team members had vanished into the new Regulars
clubhouse, leaving Ohtori more or less alone on the bleachers.
"Hey, Ohtori!" Mukahi called, spotting him. "Come to make fun of us, huh? Your
time will come! You're gonna have to go through this next year too, same as the
rest of us. Yuushi, you owe me twenty bucks. I told you he'd show up sooner or
later."
"I don't recall ever disagreeing with you Gakuto, much less betting on it," the
tensai said in amusement. "Frankly I'm surprised it took him this long."
"You're assuming that I'm planning to join the tennis club, Mukahi-san," Ohtori
replied, standing and moving back to the fence so they could talk more easily.
When the acrobatics specialist boggled at him, he couldn't help but laugh.
"This coach isn't also the music teacher," he reminded the older boy. "I doubt
I'll be lucky enough that the orchestra and tennis practices wouldn't overlap.
And besides, with all the extra training I'm doing with Ryou, I don't think I'm
going to have time for two clubs and my homework besides."
"Aw, but then we won't get to play with you!" Jirou protested around a huge
yawn, wandering up to them and rubbing sleepily at his eyes. His hair and the
top of his shirt were wet - apparently someone had woken him by emptying one of
the water bottles over his head. "And who's Shishido going to play with?"
"Shishido isn't going to play with anyone," the boy in question growled as he
dumped his full ball basket next to the others and joined them. "I'm playing
singles again. No way in hell I'm messing up our combination by trying to play
with someone else. Not when we're doing this well."
"Yes, I'd heard the two of you had been getting good results in the independent
tournaments." Oshitari commented. "Congratulations, by the way. If you make it
to the finals in the next one, which I'm quite certain you will, we should all
go to cheer you on."
"Should we organize an orchestrated chant like Atobe had?" Ohtori asked,
grinning. "Instead of 'Hyoutei' and 'Atobe', we could just change it to
'Shishido' and 'Ohtori'." Their former captain's overdramatic streak was the
butt of frequent jokes among the rest of them. It felt good to laugh and joke
with them all again; he hadn't seen most of them since his birthday back in
February.
"I'm sure you can come up with something better than that," Atobe drawled
loftily as he sauntered up to complete the group. "Copy-catting is terribly
gauche. Hyoutei has standards to maintain, even if you two aren't officially
affiliated with the rest of us. I'm sure I could..."
"We are not coming up with any stupid chants, so get the idea right out of your
head," Shishido interrupted him. "You guys are welcome to come watch, but if
you start anything like that I will convince Choutarou to 'miss' with one of
his serves in your direction."
They all laughed, Ohtori most of all. He'd missed this, and he'd been too
occupied with keeping Shishido and Amano apart at his birthday party to enjoy
it then. It made him regret the decision he'd more or less already made not to
join the tennis club in high school, but he still felt it was the right thing
to do. He didn't want to give up on music yet, and there just weren't enough
hours in the day for him to do everything.
"Let's go for dinner!" Mukahi exclaimed. "We're only missing Hiyoshi and
Kabaji, and neither of them ever said much anyway. It'll be like old times."
"No fancy restaurants," Shishido said hastily as Atobe opened his mouth. "Just
burgers or something. You'll survive," he added unsympathetically to his
disgruntled friend as Atobe arched an eyebrow at him. "And you're also
outvoted. Just give in gracefully."
"I suppose I shall just have to resign myself to allowing your uncivilized ways
to influence me," Atobe sighed dramatically, but Ohtori saw a glint of
amusement in the older boy's eyes. "In point of fact, Shishido, the only thing
I was planning to say was that it would be my treat, but since you cut me
off..."
Shishido swung at him, and Atobe easily dodged the punch with a laugh. That set
them all off laughing, and the next thing Ohtori knew he'd been swept up with
the group of them and dragged off towards the change room. Mukahi and Jirou
pointed out everything of interest to him, teasing him that they would make him
change his mind about joining the team one way or another. Ohtori just went
along with it, thoroughly enjoying himself despite the odd looks they got from
some of the older non-Regulars who had no idea who he was and why he was in
their clubhouse.
Nobody said anything, however, and in fairly short order everyone had showered
and changed and was ready to go. As they walked out of the school grounds
Ohtori automatically fell into place beside Shishido, walking close enough to
his partner that their shoulders and hands just barely brushed together every
so often.
It was, he reflected ruefully as he listened to the others talk and
occasionally inserted a few words of his own, a fairly good metaphor for his
entire relationship with Shishido at the moment. Shishido was still respecting
his request that they not give Amano any reason to feel vindicated or further
hurt, but they couldn't quite seem to force themselves to stay entirely aloof.
They hadn't kissed again after that one time, but they both took just about any
opportunity presented to be near or touching the other.
Even so, despite all the frustration they were both experiencing, Ohtori found
it hard not to enjoy just being with Shishido. Especially with the others
present to help distract both of them and diffuse some of the tension between
them.
"Goodness," Oshitari drawled in his thick accent when the staff of the fast
food restaurant gave them horrified looks as they walked in the doors. "You'd
think we were a horde of ravening beasts about to descend on them."
"Yeah well, my mom always claims that teenage males are ravening beasts, so I
think they've got good reason," Shishido shot back. "She oughta know, she's
raised two of us."
"And we're athletic teenagers too," Jirou pointed out with a sleepy snicker.
"Which they can tell by the tennis bags. That makes it about ten times worse.
And you and Ohtori-kun are tall, so you probably eat even more than the rest of
us."
"Everyone but Mukahi is tall compared to you, Jirou," Shishido replied,
ruffling the smaller boy's hair. "And you're the oldest of us... you really
need to hit that teenage growth spurt sometime soon."
Batting Shishido's hand away, Jirou stuck his tongue out at his friend.
"Everyone in my family is short, you know that. I'm probably not going to get
much bigger. That doesn't mean I'm not just as hungry as the rest of you!"
"I don't see why, you didn't do anything all practice but sleep on the bench,"
Mukahi retorted.
"I did so!" Jirou protested indignantly. The righteous expression slipped into
an impish grin as he added, "I slept on the bleachers for a while. The fangirls
are always happy to play pillow. But the coach said I had to at least be on the
courts or he wouldn't consider me to have been at practice."
"You're just lucky I was able to convince him to watch you play a match against
me before he decided to throw you out of the club for not participating," Atobe
said dryly. "And that he believed the rest of us when he asked around and
everyone told him you'd always slept through practice."
"Not that Jirou wouldn't have just kept showing up and sleeping at our
practices anyway," Shishido countered with a laugh. "He probably wouldn't even
have noticed he wasn't supposed to be there."
"Yeah, but I'd notice that I never got to play," Jirou mock-pouted. "Anyway, if
he'd thrown me out I'd have had to find some other club, since the school rules
say you have to be in one. Maybe I could have joined Ohtori-kun in the
orchestra." He grinned at the younger boy.
"I think you'd have more trouble sleeping through a rehearsal than you do
sleeping through practice, Jirou-san," Ohtori replied with a grin. "It's much
louder."
"He can sleep with rock music pounding in his headphones, I think he'd be able
to sleep through one of your rehearsals," Shishido said, rolling his eyes.
They'd reached the order counter now, and Mukahi and Oshitari were already
placing their orders.
"I can sleep through anything," Jirou admitted with a grin, not sounding in the
least repentant or regretful. "Mom always says it's a good thing I like tennis
enough to stay awake for it sometimes and that I have a good metabolism, or I'd
be fat from never getting any exercise."
Since Jirou's wiry frame didn't have so much as an ounce of fat to spare,
Ohtori had a hard time picturing that. He and Shishido placed their orders, and
then it was Atobe and Jirou's turn. Despite what he'd jokingly said to Shishido
earlier Atobe paid for everything, as he usually did when the group of them
went out. Even the ever-proud Shishido, who hated anything that smacked of
charity in any way, had learned a long time ago not to bother protesting. For
one thing, it really was like taking a drop out of the ocean as far as Atobe's
wealth was concerned.
Once they all had their trays piled high with food, they moved towards one of
the booths in a back corner where their chatter wouldn't disturb as many
people. In the past when they'd had Hiyoshi and Kabaji with them they'd usually
opted for two tables, but with only six of them apparently someone had thought
it would be a good idea for them all to squish into one booth.
Of course, cramming six athletic boys and all their food into one booth was a
problem in logistics at best and a disaster waiting to happen at worst.
Oshitari and Mukahi immediately claimed one side of the table, but when Ohtori
moved to sit next to Mukahi Jirou wormed his way in instead, declaring
(rightly) that there was no way the two biggest members of the group could sit
on the same side.
Unfortunately, that somewhat foiled Ohtori's plan to not sit next to Shishido,
because he doubted he'd be able to get Atobe to sit between them without
actually asking, which would draw far more attention than he wanted. It wasn't
that Ohtori didn't want to sit next to his partner; it was that he wanted to
sit next to him too much. In the booth meant for four people, they'd be pressed
up together like, well... like lovers. There was such a thing as tempting fate.
Not to mention that he wasn't sure he wouldn't be too distracted to pay
attention to the conversation.
With a fatalistic shrug and a wry grin in his direction Shishido slid into the
other side of the booth. Atobe waited for Ohtori to follow, clearly intending
to sit across from Jirou. Sighing softly, Ohtori gave in to the inevitable and
moved to sit next to his partner, pressing as close as possible without
actually climbing into the older boy's lap in order to give Atobe enough room
to perch on the end of the bench.
It was just as bad as he'd thought it would be. While the others joked and
laughed, Ohtori applied himself to his food as if he was starving so he
wouldn't have to participate much. The others had seen him eat that way often
enough before not to question it, even though he wasn't actually that hungry at
the moment since he'd only been watching the strenuous practice.
He was hyper-aware of Shishido's body against his; strong muscled thigh pressed
to his leg, shoulders together, their arms brushing with every movement. Ohtori
was certain there was a flush on his cheeks to match the warmth growing low in
his body at the contact. Despite the fact that Shishido was easily holding up
his end of the banter Ohtori could tell his partner wasn't entirely unaffected,
by the way his breath hitched ever so slightly any time one of them shifted. He
found he kept getting distracted by imagining what would happen if Shishido
dropped his left hand to rest on Ohtori's leg beneath the table, or if Ohtori
rubbed his foot against his partner's calf.
Either nobody had noticed the odd tension between their former D1 pair, or they
were staying mercifully silent on the subject. Ohtori suspected the former,
since if there was one thing Mukahi was not known for it was being merciful.
Especially where opportunities to tease Shishido in any way were concerned.
Although, the disgruntled looks Mukahi kept shooting Jirou every so often for
no apparent reason made Ohtori wonder if the singles player might not be
kicking him to keep him quiet. Surely not. Especially since now and again the
irritated look was directed at Atobe, if Jirou happened to be distracted at the
time.
Somehow he made it through the meal without completely embarrassing himself,
and as he adjusted to the situation he even began to be able to enjoy and
participate in the conversation as well. He never lost that razor's edge of
awareness of his partner, though. As hard as it had been to resist Shishido
when he'd still been going out with Amano, it was ten times as difficult now
that the only thing standing between them was his sense of fairness towards his
ex-boyfriend.
The restaurant wasn't all that busy, so they kept talking for hours, every so
often sending someone back up for more drinks and fries. By the time it was
dark outside Jirou was leaning half asleep against Mukahi, and the rest of them
were starting to show signs of exhaustion as well.
"We should all get home," Atobe finally declared, standing and sweeping up his
refuse onto his tray. Mukahi jostled Jirou irritably, trying to wake him as
Oshitari chuckled at both of them. Ohtori took the opportunity to slide away
from Shishido a bit before gathering his own garbage. The debris left behind by
the six of them was truly stunning, he thought with some amusement as he
surveyed what was left of their meals.
"Shishido, don't forget we've got Saturday practice tomorrow," Oshitari said as
Mukahi finally got Jirou awake enough to get him out of the booth so the other
two could leave as well. "The coach has been understanding about you missing it
to attend matches, but..."
"Yeah, I know," Shishido agreed as he followed Ohtori out of the booth. "We're
not meeting with our trainer until later in the afternoon. I'll be there, don't
worry."
"You should come watch again sometime, Ohtori," Mukahi said, grinning at them
both. "This was fun. And we still need to convince you to change your mind
about not joining the club next year."
"I'll think about it," Ohtori promised, amused and a little touched. Even if it
had been couched mostly in terms of 'You can't leave us alone to suffer from
the Drama Queen moping around without you', the attempts to coax him into
reconsidering were heartfelt enough. He really would be missed, and it was nice
to know.
"Hey, Ohtori-kun, you take the same train as me from this direction, don't
you?" Jirou asked around a massive yawn. "Walk me home so I don't fall asleep
on the train, please? I don't want to end up halfway to Osaka again."
Since the train they both took didn't go quite that far that was a bit of an
exaggeration, but Ohtori laughed anyway. "Sure, Jirou-san, I can do that," he
agreed. It would only be a couple of extra stops for him to make sure the
sleepy older boy got off at the right station, and he didn't have anything
pressing to do tonight.
He did cast a curious look at Atobe, though. Usually Jirou went home with Atobe
and then the wealthy boy had one of his drivers take Jirou home, to prevent
exactly the situation Jirou had just described. Atobe merely shrugged at him,
however.
They all parted ways at the train station with much waving and reminders to be
there bright and early the next morning. Shishido shot Ohtori a heated look as
he left with Atobe that made Ohtori shiver, feeling his gut clench. The
seething heat and impatience in his partner's eyes was enough to make him go
weak in the knees, as it always did. He knew Shishido was frustrated with the
restrictions he'd placed on them, and so was he, but it still didn't feel right
to just turn straight from Amano and run right to Shishido.
He shepherded Jirou towards the platform their train would leave from, the
older boy leaning against him a bit for support. "Jirou-san, how did you ever
get as good at tennis as you are if you're always asleep?" Ohtori asked a
question that had nagged at him for years, amused.
"Hmm?" Jirou yawned again and blinked up at him, then grinned. "I do practice.
All the time, usually with Atobe. He's the one who made me learn tennis in the
first place, he said it was boring only playing against a wall. And of course
there's no way we'd have been able to leave Shishido out, even if we'd wanted
to. So we all took lessons with his private coach when we were kids."
"Is that how you both started playing!" Ohtori exclaimed. He'd honestly never
thought to ask Shishido what had made his partner take up the sport, but this
explained a lot. "And you still practice with Atobe-san now?"
"Sure, just about any time I'm over there," Jirou agreed with a sleepy grin.
"It's just that it's hardly ever interesting enough at the club practices to
keep me awake. It's different when I'm playing with Atobe."
"I would imagine so," Ohtori laughed. Their train pulled up with a screech of
brakes, and they crowded in with everyone else on the platform.
Even this late at night it was still packed, though there was room to breathe
at least. Ohtori helped Jirou wedge himself into a corner, then stood between
the smaller boy and the rest of the crowd like a protective shield. His height
and relative bulk made it easier for Ohtori to withstand the press of people,
and Jirou laughed up at him appreciatively.
"I should always ask you to come home with me!" the smaller boy said, leaning
against the wall with his eyes drooping. "You're much better at that than Atobe
and Shishido are. But don't tell Atobe I said you were better than him at
something."
"I was just going to ask you not to repeat that to him," Ohtori replied wryly,
and Jirou laughed again.
They talked about inconsequential things for most of the trip, mostly in an
effort to keep Jirou awake. Ohtori's station came and went fairly quickly; he
didn't like all that far from the school. Three stops later it was Jirou's
station, and Ohtori pushed through the crowd to clear him a path to the door.
"Hey, walk me home?" Jirou asked as they reached the exit to the car. "I wanted
to talk to you, but it was too crowded and noisy in here. It's not that far
from my place to yours, right?"
"Sure," Ohtori agreed again, a little surprised. What could Jirou have to talk
to him about? Well, that explained why he'd asked Ohtori to take him home
instead of just going with Atobe, at least.
They made their way out of the station and into the brisk night air. Summer was
well on its way, but the nights were still just a little cool. Ohtori wasn't
exactly cold in the short-sleeved summer Hyoutei uniform, but he wasn't warm
either. Jirou on the other hand seemed somewhat invigorated by the fresh air,
his eyes opening again as he stopped yawning with every other breath. It
wouldn't last, Ohtori knew from experience, but at least it meant he wasn't in
any danger of having to carry the older boy home.
"So what did you want to talk about?" he asked as they walked down the quiet
street. There were still lights on in most of the houses, but few people were
outside at this time of day.
"Shishido told us you were worried about hurting Amano by getting together with
him so quickly," Jirou said with his usual artless lack of tact. Ohtori
blushed. It was one thing to know that Atobe and Jirou had a general idea of
what was going on. It was another thing entirely to find out that Shishido had
been telling them specifics.
"It's just that we spent so much of our relationship fighting about his
jealousy towards Ryou," Ohtori explained awkwardly. "It seems like I'm proving
him right. It makes me feel like I really was betraying him that whole time,
even though Ryou and I never did anything."
"Well, in all honesty, you probably could have handled it better," Jirou
admitted guilelessly, making Ohtori wince. "I kept wondering why you didn't
break up with him once Shishido got his head out of his ass and you forgave
him. Not that there's anything wrong with just being attracted to someone while
you're in a relationship with someone else, but you were pretty obviously more
strongly attached to Shishido than Amano-kun."
"But it would have been totally heartless of me to break up with Kazuya just so
I could go out with Ryou," Ohtori protested. "That really would have vindicated
his jealousy! I don't want to be the kind of person who could do that, Jirou-
san."
"Was it any less heartless to put all three of you through months of more
misery because you weren't willing to cause a little more pain early on?" Jirou
wanted to know, and Ohtori winced again.
"There are times when I could wish you were a little less blunt, Jirou-san," he
muttered. He couldn't deny the older boy's words, however. Looking back on it,
it did seem clear that the best thing he could have done was break up with
Kazuya when it became clear that his feelings for Shishido weren't as dead as
he'd thought. "But I did care about Kazuya," he whispered, more to himself than
to Jirou. "And he'd done so much for me. How could I not have tried everything
I could think of to save the relationship before I gave up on it?"
"That's true, it isn't a good thing to give up on someone every time something
better seems to come along," Jirou agreed. "It was a little different though,
considering everything you and Shishido had gone through up to that point. But
what's past is past, you can't do anything about it now. I suppose it probably
was the only thing you could have done and lived with yourself afterwards." He
cocked his head curiously at the taller boy. "I don't get it, though. Now you
have broken up with him, for good reasons from what Shishido said. So what's
stopping you now?"
"I told you," Ohtori said miserably. "Running straight to Ryou would make
everything he said about me seem justified." 'How long will it take before you
run into his arms?' He shuddered. "I can't do that."
"Why not?" Jirou wanted to know. When Ohtori only stared at him blankly, Jirou
shrugged. "Who are you trying to make happy, Ohtori-kun?"
"I don't..." Ohtori blinked at him, baffled. "I don't understand, Jirou-san.
What do you mean?"
"I mean, who are you trying to make happy?" Jirou insisted. "Right now Shishido
is miserable because it's killing him to have you so close but not be able to
have you. You're miserable because you feel bad about breaking up with Amano-
kun, and because you want Shishido just as bad but you feel guilty about it.
And Amano-kun is miserable because you broke up with him, and is still probably
thinking that you left him for Shishido even though you two haven't done
anything yet."
As Ohtori stared at him, Jirou gave him a bemused look. "So who are you making
happy? Nobody. If you go be with Shishido then he'll be ecstatic, and you'll be
happy because you finally get to be with him, even if you do still feel a
little guilty about Amano. And Amano will feel vindicated, which may or may not
make him a little happier or a little more upset, but he'll get over it
eventually. Just like he'd have to get over it eventually even if you waited
years to be with Shishido."
Stunned, Ohtori tried to absorb that. If he really thought about it, he
supposed he'd been trying to make himself happy, or at least a bit less guilty.
But Jirou was right that Amano probably believed he was with Shishido now
whether or not it was true.
And really, even if they weren't physically doing anything, it was true, wasn't
it? However Ohtori tried to deny it or put it off, he and Shishido both knew it
was only a matter of time. If they were already together in their hearts, did
it matter if what they did with their bodies didn't reflect that?
"Anyway, how long is 'long enough'?" Jirou asked, continuing softly. Ohtori
realized he'd stopped dead in the middle of the sidewalk, and the older boy had
turned to face him. "How long do you have to wait before it's okay for you to
be with Shishido?"
"I don't know," Ohtori replied, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I guess there
isn't a good answer to that. Gods, what have I been doing?"
"You've been trying to make the best of a bad situation," Jirou said
sympathetically. "It's just that you're going about it all wrong." He grinned.
"Sometimes it's better in the end to be a little selfish, Ohtori-kun. Making
yourself and Shishido unhappy doesn't serve any real purpose."
"You're right," Ohtori was forced to acknowledge. He felt like an idiot.
Swallowing, he managed a wry smile at Jirou. "You know, for someone who spends
most of his time asleep..."
"I know a lot about human nature?" Jirou's grin turned to the familiar impish
look his teammates knew so well. "Comes from having Atobe and Shishido as best
friends. Trying to keep that friendship intact ought to let me test out of any
number of psychology courses in university." Ohtori couldn't help but laugh at
that.
"Now go home," Jirou instructed him. "We're almost at my house, I can get home
from here without any trouble. I'd say you should call Shishido, except knowing
him he'd charge straight over to your place. Maybe you should wait until after
your practice tomorrow."
"Assuming I can even concentrate on tennis when I've got something like that to
say to him," Ohtori said, shaking his head. "But I won't tell him over the
phone, no. That would be... rather unsatisfying for both of us, I think."
Slowly a smile was spreading over his face, the first true, unalleviated smile
he'd worn for far too long. He still felt guilty for what he'd done to Amano,
but Jirou was right that he wasn't making anybody happy this way.
***** Chapter 20 *****
In the light of day the next morning Jirou's words made no less sense than they
had the night before. Maybe it was just that he was being given permission to
do something he badly wanted to do anyway, but Ohtori felt the effect of what
Jirou had said down to his very soul. He didn't need to make Amano happy, which
was just as well because he couldn't at this point. Even if he dropped Shishido
entirely and went back to beg forgiveness from his ex-boyfriend, what had
happened would always hang between them. And Amano would never be truly happy
because Ohtori would never be truly happy. Not without Shishido.
It was time and past time to find out exactly what he and Shishido had been
denying themselves. Ohtori was all but vibrating as he ran to the indoor courts
where their coach met them for training. He was early, and he could only pray
Shishido would be as well, because he wanted to talk to his partner before the
practice. Otherwise he was going to be tripping over himself with anxiety and
anticipation, and that wasn't likely to impress their coach.
He could have just called Shishido's cell and asked his partner to come early
to 'warm up' or something, of course, but he was afraid that the moment he
heard the older boy's voice he would just blurt out everything. Once he'd made
the decision to stop holding back, everything had just seemed to fall into
place in his head and his heart and he was dying to tell Shishido.
Thankfully when he stopped to sign in at the desk the attendant gave him two
pieces of good news; his partner was here early, and their coach had called to
say he was going to be at least fifteen minutes late.
Heart pounding from far more than just the exertion of the run, he made his way
slowly down the hall to the change rooms. Slowly only because there were other
people around, and he didn't need to cause any accidents or injuries.
"Shishido-san?" He was nervous as well as excited, and the more formal address
slipped out before he realized what he was saying. What if Shishido had decided
he was tired of waiting, or that Ohtori wasn't worth it after all? Unlikely
that he'd have come to such a decision over night, true, but still a
possibility. Or worse, what if once they had spent some time together, he
realized that Ohtori didn't live up to his expectations?
Before he could work himself into a true panic Shishido's voice answered from
behind one of the rows of public lockers. "Choutarou? You mad at me or
something? You haven't called me that in a while."
Forcing himself to take a deep breath and calm down a little, Ohtori walked
along the narrow aisle between benches and lockers. As far as he could tell he
and Shishido were the only ones in the room at the moment, though there were
signs that several of the lockers were in use.
When he found the row Shishido was using, he stopped short at the end of the
aisle and just stared, suddenly breathless. The older boy had been growing his
hair out, and today for the first time since he'd cut it he was finally able to
pull it back into a short ponytail again. It was still nowhere near as long as
it had once been, and more of it fell out of the tail to hang around his face
than was up, but it was a start.
For the first time he really saw the resemblance between Shishido and Amano,
and he had to admit that his ex-boyfriend had had some cause for concern on the
subject.
It was only a superficial resemblance, though, and even though the short little
tail looked just the slightest bit silly, Ohtori privately thought that
Shishido looked far hotter with his hair up than Amano ever had.
Then again, he might be a bit biased. And the fact that the older boy was
wearing nothing but his shorts and was bent over rummaging in his bag for his
shirt probably didn't hurt matters either. My, oh my, Shishido had a fine
torso. His back was sleekly muscled, the bulges shifting smoothly under the
skin with each movement of his arms. Shishido had started really filling out as
well, his shoulders broadening and putting on some bulk in his upper chest.
"Choutarou?" the older boy called curiously. "You there? I thought..."
Finally lifting his head, Shishido caught sight of Ohtori, standing at the end
of the locker row and gaping like a mute idiot. The older boy blinked at him,
then slowly smirked and straightened. "Well?" he asked, spreading his hands
slightly and arching an eyebrow in a way that suggested he knew exactly what
was going through Ohtori's head. "See something you like, Choutarou?"
Ohtori had spent half the night planning exactly what he was going to say: how
he was going to explain Jirou's words to him, and how he would apologize to
Shishido for being such an idiot and holding them both back. He'd meticulously
thought out each of Shishido's possible reactions and scripted how he would
handle them all, not wanting to end up sounding like an utter moron.
Standing there looking at Shishido, with his hair framing his face and no
shirt, a sexy look of smug invitation on his face, Ohtori's carefully planned
speeches all flew straight out of his head. The longer he stood there
speechless the wider Shishido's smirk got, and finally Ohtori shook his head.
He couldn't say anything; fine, he'd just have to be non-verbal about it.
His tennis bag hit the floor with a solid 'thunk' as he was already moving
towards his partner. Shishido's smirk turned to a surprised look. "Choutarou?
What..."
He never got a chance to finish the question. Ohtori caught him by the
shoulders and leaned in for a long, hungry kiss. After a moment of shocked
stiffness Shishido melted against him, putting his hands on Ohtori's waist and
trying to pull him closer. The older boy made another muffled sound of surprise
when Ohtori allowed himself to be tugged forward, and he smiled against
Shishido's mouth as he kept moving. It only took a few steps before he had the
shorter boy pressed up against the lockers, caught between Ohtori's body and
the solid metal with nowhere to go.
Not that Shishido was trying to get away, far from it. His hands clenched at
Ohtori's waist as his mouth opened and his tongue probed for entrance. Ohtori
granted it willingly, and his breath caught in his throat as they duelled back
and forth for a long moment.
It was hot, and not only because they'd waited so long for this. Long practice
as a doubles pair had taught them to anticipate each other, to be able to read
subtle cues and follow each other's lead easily. Ohtori was pleased to find it
seemed to translate well into this application, too.
Finally he was forced to pull back for air, panting harshly as he forced his
eyes open again and looked down at Shishido through a haze of passion. His
partner wasn't doing much better, leaning against the lockers like the metal
was the only thing holding him upright, his lips already a bit swollen from
kissing and his eyes glazed. It was all Ohtori could do not to lean right back
in and kiss him again.
"Choutarou?" Shishido murmured before he could act on the impulse. "What... I
thought we were waiting? What about..."
"No more waiting, Ryou," Ohtori interrupted him, his voice husky and lower than
normal. He felt Shishido shiver against him, and saw the older boy's pupils
dilate. "Jirou-san rubbed my nose in how stupid I've been being, and I don't
need to be told twice. Forget about Kazuya. The only one I should be worried
about making happy is you. I refuse to let my guilt come between us any more."
"Choutarou..." Apparently unable to come up with anything more meaningful than
that, Shishido gave up the effort and just stretched up to kiss him again. "You
won't regret this," he murmured against Ohtori's mouth a moment later,
fiercely. "I swear you won't regret this, Choutarou. I'm gonna make you forget
there was ever anyone but you and me... and I'm not going to fuck up this
time."
Making a soft sound of agreement, Ohtori captured his mouth more fully so he'd
have to stop talking. Now was not the time for talking - they'd done more than
enough of that already over the last year, and far too much of it had been
hurtful. Now was the time for making up for all of that in a visceral way that
couldn't be mistaken for anything else.
As things grew more heated Ohtori was somewhat amused to realize that if he
wasn't Shishido's first kiss, he was certainly one of the first. It wasn't that
the older boy was a bad kisser, per se, just that his inexperience showed in
the way he was a bit too forceful and just a little unimaginative.
Never thought I'd be the senpai in this, Ohtori thought with some amusement as
he drew back slightly, not breaking the kiss but rather coaxing Shishido into
something both deeper and less agitated than what they had been doing. He took
everything he'd ever learned with Amano and used it now on Shishido, playing
and teasing and drawing the kiss out until they were both writhing against each
other.
If nothing else, Shishido was a fast learner. It didn't take him long before he
started trying to copy what Ohtori was doing, at first awkwardly but then with
increasing confidence. When his tongue flicked against the roof of Ohtori's
mouth the younger boy gasped and leaned harder into him. Then they both gasped
as their lower bodies ground together. Ohtori was too much taller than Shishido
for them to line up properly, but he could feel Shishido's erection against his
thigh as his own pressed into Shishido's upper hip.
"Gods, Choutarou," Shishido sounded like he was dying as he pulled away and
buried his face in Ohtori's shoulder, his body shaking with need and passion.
"You couldn't have waited until after the tennis lesson to come to your damn
senses?"
"No," Ohtori whispered, shaking his head before nuzzling into the soft strands
of Shishido's hair. "Do you really think I could have gone through the whole
two hours without tripping over my own feet if I'd been trying to hold this
inside?"
"Guess not, but gods..." Shishido groaned and shifted against him, rubbing up
hard. Ohtori's hands tightened on his muscled shoulders, and Shishido dipped
his fingers past Ohtori's waistband in retaliation. "We're not gonna be able to
play like this."
"Coach called to say he'd be late," Ohtori replied with a grin as Shishido
moaned again at his words.
"Late enough for us to deal with this?" Shishido asked breathlessly, arching
against him again and biting into the juncture of his throat and shoulder. This
time it was Ohtori's turn to make an inarticulate sound of passion, tilting his
head to give the older boy better access.
Before Ohtori could answer the door to the outside banged open, and a group of
half a dozen chattering teenagers came into the change room. He and Shishido
sprang apart like they'd been burned even though they couldn't be seen from the
door, then gave each other sheepish looks.
"We'll finish this later," Shishido growled heatedly, the look in his eyes
turning the words from a promise almost to a threat. Ohtori shivered, not in
the least intimidated but more than a little turned on. "My family isn't home,
you can come over after practice." He phrased it as a command more than a
request, but Ohtori wasn't about to object. His family was home, and if that
kiss was anything to go by he doubted his ability to stay quiet if they went
any farther.
Somehow they both managed to finish changing without any further incidents;
this was in no small part due to the fact that they were never alone in the
room again, and that they changed at opposite ends of the row. By the time they
headed out onto the court tension between them was at an all-time high, yet
Ohtori felt none of the stress that had always accompanied it before this.
Instead there was only anticipation, an eager awareness that things were
finally coming to a head between them after almost a year.
Normally Ohtori was totally absorbed by their coached sessions, fascinated by
everything they had to learn and all the things they could do to improve their
game. They'd already noticeably improved even in the short time they'd been
working with the man, and he knew Shishido felt the same way he did.
Today he found it difficult to concentrate, however. Time seemed to drag by
interminably, and yet everything happened in a sort of haze such that he would
look back on it later and not really be able to remember anything they'd
learned.
Oddly, their performance didn't really suffer for their distraction. Maybe it
was because they were so hyper-aware of each other, but they were reading each
other better than ever. It did make it hard for them to pick up on the new
things he was trying to teach them, however, and Ohtori could tell the coach
had noticed the difference.
Finally the older man clapped his hands twice. "All right, that's enough for
today," he declared, though according to Ohtori's watch they still had a good
ten minutes to go. As always at the end of their lessons he and Shishido were
both panting and dripping with sweat; the man worked them hard, pushed them to
their limits, but neither of them were the type to complain when it was so
obviously helping them.
"Go home and work it off," he instructed them wryly, and Ohtori blushed
furiously as he realized what the man was implying. "Don't come into a session
in this state again, understand me? It's a waste of my time and yours."
Well, chances were good that they weren't the first doubles pair the coach had
worked with who were partners off as well as on the courts, and they probably
wouldn't be the last either. Still blushing, he bowed slightly. "It won't
happen again," he promised ruefully. It damn well better not! After today at
least, there wouldn't be the sort of pent-up anticipation they were dealing
with now.
"Make sure it doesn't," the coach agreed. "I'll see you both tomorrow. Be ready
to work hard to make up for today."
"Yes sir!" they both chorused, and he nodded and turned to leave. As always the
moment the door closed behind him, Shishido and Ohtori both staggered over to
collapse on the bench, completely exhausted.
"Think we could have been any less obvious?" Shishido asked, and Ohtori
chuckled.
"Maybe. If we'd really been trying," he replied wearily, groping blindly for
his water bottle. He felt like he didn't have even enough energy to turn his
head to look for it. "Thank you," he added as Shishido handed it to him without
being asked. "I mean, we could have started making out in the middle of the
court, or something..."
"We still could," Shishido suggested, turning his head to give Ohtori a sly
smile. "We've got the court for another ten minutes. I can't tell you how many
times I've fantasized about just pouncing you right into the court over the
last couple of months..."
The blush that had been starting to fade returned with a vengeance. "Ryou!" he
protested, laughing. Though the truth was, he'd thought the same thing himself
more than a few times. "Do you really think ten minutes would be long enough?"
he mock-pouted at his partner - at his boyfriend, he supposed, though it was
still odd to think of the older boy in those terms.
"Not for what I've got planned, hell no," Shishido agreed with a mischievous
glint in his eyes. "But enough to get us back to the state we were in when we
walked in here? Fuck yeah."
"Is that..." really a good idea? he'd wanted to ask, but Shishido cut him off
by turning on the bench and kissing him passionately. Since he wasn't really
objecting, Ohtori stopped trying to talk and just kissed him back, uncaring
that anyone could look through the small window on the door and see them. At
least this was the only court the facility had, so it wasn't like they were
sharing the room with anyone else.
"All right, we're leaving now," Shishido declared gruffly as they drew apart
again. Not very far; Ohtori had his hands tangled in the fabric of the older
boy's shirt near the waist, and Shishido had draped his arms over Ohtori's
shoulders, so there wasn't much room for them to separate.
"Sure, okay," Ohtori agreed in a daze. He made no move to get up, not sure his
legs would support him, and still fighting the urge to lean in and kiss his
partner again. He hoped this mindless urgency that had caught them would ease
once they'd gotten the worst of it out of their systems, or they were going to
end up having trouble functioning any time they were together.
"You're not helping, Choutarou," Shishido groaned, smacking him lightly across
the back of the head. When Ohtori gave him a surprised look, he sighed and
unwound his arms, moving back on the bench. Ohtori let him go, and once they
had some space between them it became a little easier to breathe. "That's
better. Haven't I told you not to look at me like that, damn it?"
"Was I looking at you like I wanted you to ravish me again?" Ohtori asked in
amusement. "That's probably because I do, actually. Why am I not allowed to do
that any more?"
"Oh, you can do it all you like," Shishido agreed, his voice shaking slightly
as he stood. "Just not in public! Or I'm going to end up doing something
that'll get us both arrested, because all my much-vaunted determination and
willpower is damn near non-existent where resisting you is concerned."
He offered the younger boy a hand up from the bench, and Ohtori accepted it,
letting Shishido help him to his feet. Once he was up, though, he couldn't
resist leaning in to kiss his partner again. Shishido moaned and fisted his
hands in Ohtori's shirt, before abruptly pushing him away. "No more of that,"
he declared firmly, turning to gather up his equipment. His voice might be firm
but his hands were shaking, Ohtori noticed.
Smiling, ignoring the way his own hands were a bit unsteady, Ohtori gathered
his things as well. Just in time - as he was picking up the last ball basket
the door opened and the next group of people entered the court.
"Here, you take my racquet and water, and I'll take the balls back to the front
desk," Ohtori offered. Shishido nodded and traded his two baskets for Ohtori's
equipment, leaning in close for a moment as he did so.
"Don't come into the showers until I come out, or we really are going to end up
arrested for public indecency," he warned, the flame of lust in his dark eyes
making Ohtori shiver again. Unable to find his voice, Ohtori just nodded and
tightened his grip on the baskets to help him stay anchored.
Watching Shishido walk off towards the change room, Ohtori took a deep breath
and tried to get a grip on himself. They'd been denying themselves for so long
that things were getting out of hand a bit too rapidly. He felt like he was
spinning out of control, and while it wasn't an unpleasant sensation by far he
was still worried about what would happen when the initial rush was over. He
knew he'd made a lot of mistakes with Amano, and he didn't want to make the
same ones or worse with Shishido.
Taking his time about it to give Shishido a chance to shower and change before
he got there, Ohtori went up to the front desk and returned the balls. The
pretty high school girl manning the desk smiled at him and tried to flirt with
him, but all he could do was summon a faint smile in return and keep his
answers short without being rude. Flirting with girls had never been something
he was good at, and at that moment he had less interest in it than he ever had
before. Shishido was waiting for him; strong, beautiful Shishido with his rough
speech and sleek muscles. Why on earth would Ohtori want to stand around
flirting with a girl, however pretty she might be?
It did mean that she dawdled over the paperwork a bit, trying to get him
interested, and any time taken here meant there was a better chance he would
not walk in and find Shishido half naked, wet and dripping from his shower,
and... gods, he really needed to stop thinking about it if he didn't want to
embarrass himself. Finally he was able to make his escape when another group of
people approached the desk and she was forced to give him up as a bad cause.
"Ryou?" he called as he entered the change room and made his way to the row
where they'd left their things.
"Hey, what took you so long?" Shishido asked, leaning around the corner of the
lockers to peer at him in curiosity. Ohtori was relieved to see that his
partner was already wearing jeans and a t-shirt, and was just towelling his
hair dry. "I was starting to think maybe you'd changed your mind."
"No," Ohtori replied immediately. He might have some reservations about how
fast everything was happening now that there were no barriers between them, but
the last thing he was going to do was change his mind! "No, nothing like that,
the girl at the desk was just flirting with me."
Even as the words left his mouth he winced, half-expecting a jealous inquiry as
to whether he'd been flirting back. Amano's jealousy had always been strongest
towards Shishido, but there had been hints of it towards everyone else, too.
Sure enough Shishido scowled, but his words surprised Ohtori. "What, is she
stupid? Like someone as hot as you are wouldn't be taken already. Anyway," the
scowl turned into a wry look, and Shishido laughed ruefully. "You're a tennis
player, and apparently the majority of us aren't interested in women. You'd
think she'd have figured that out, working here."
Laughing despite himself, Ohtori felt some of the tension ease from his
shoulders. "She can always hope, I suppose. Let me just grab a quick shower and
change, and then we can get out of here."
"I'll wait for you out front," Shishido said, and Ohtori nodded. That was
probably wise, all things considered. One last heated look from his partner,
and then Shishido was gone, leaving Ohtori to finish in peace.
Well, relative peace, anyway. Ohtori was glad there wasn't anyone in the
immediate vicinity as he stripped down, because his body certainly wasn't shy
about letting him know what it wanted. Blushing, he hurried into the shower
area, wanting to be done as quickly as possible.
His relationship with Amano had gotten him used to having a regular outlet for
the inevitable teenage hormones, even if they didn't usually follow it through
to the very end. The time since he'd broken up with the other boy had been an
exercise in frustration, and the current anticipation of what was coming wasn't
helping matters any. Ohtori felt like he was wound tighter than a high-tension
racquet string, and the least little pressure might break him entirely.
Standing under the hot water of the shower, he was tempted to release some of
that tension by jerking off quickly. There wasn't anyone else in the shower
room, though that could change with very little warning. It occurred to him to
wonder if Shishido had been tempted by the same thing, and whether his partner
had given in to the temptation. After all, it wasn't as if their bodies
wouldn't recover fast enough for them to enjoy themselves by the time they got
to Shishido's house, nearly half an hour away by transit.
Almost, he wished he'd thought to ask his partner before coming in here. Only
that would have been far too embarrassing a question to just blurt out like
that, and his cheeks heated just thinking about it. Groaning, Ohtori leaned
against the slick tile of the shower wall and resigned himself to waiting. It
wouldn't kill him, and if Shishido had chosen to wait he might be disappointed
if Ohtori hadn't.
Hurrying through the rest of his shower, Ohtori exited the room just as a
couple of other men entered, laughing and joking to each other. He ducked his
head as he passed them, not wanting them to see his flushed face and wonder
about it. He was glad he'd decided to wait, or they might have caught him at
it. He was equally glad for the towel he'd already wrapped around his waist.
It was a matter of moments for him to pull on his clothes and rub his hair half
dry. The air would do the rest, it was short enough that it would be dry by the
time they reached Shishido's place. Shoving his things into his tennis bag, he
zipped it and slung it over his shoulder. With another deep breath to try to
calm his racing heart, he headed out to meet Shishido.
***** Chapter 21 *****
Shishido was leaning against the wall by the front doors, watching for him. The
look on his face had to be some kind of counterpart to the one he kept
objecting to Ohtori giving him; it practically screamed 'You've got about ten
seconds to brace yourself, because I am going to ravish you now.'
"That's not fair either," Ohtori murmured breathlessly as he reached his
partner. When Shishido cocked his head questioningly, Ohtori gave him a
slightly shaky smile and elaborated. "The look on your face."
A slow smirk joined the heated expression. "C'mon Choutarou, let's go. The
sooner we get home, the sooner we can stop just looking at each other."
"Yes," Ohtori agreed simply. They walked out together, bags slung over their
shoulders and their bodies brushing with every step, building the tension
between them higher still.
Neither of them could find much to say on the crowded train to Shishido's
station. Anything Ohtori could think of to talk about seemed either completely
uninteresting or far too personal for such a public place. The fact that
Shishido still looked like he was seconds away from pouncing him didn't help
any, and he kept getting distracted from the few conversation attempts he did
start.
By the time they finally reached Shishido's apartment building Ohtori was
wishing he had jerked off in the shower after all. The electric tension between
them was enough to scorch him, and Ohtori was almost shivering with it.
The moment the door of the apartment closed behind them Shishido had Ohtori
pressed up against it, kissing him hard and fierce. Ohtori responded with a
moan, his eyes closing as he fell into the heat of it. He could only hope that
Shishido had been right about his family not being home.
"You didn't take very long in the shower," Shishido observed as he pulled away
slightly, panting. "Did you touch yourself, Choutarou?"
So much for that question being too embarrassing to ask. Ohtori's cheeks
flushed again, but his eyes sparkled with mischief and lust as he shook his
head. "No," he replied, his voice husky. "I wasn't sure if you had and didn't
want to if you hadn't. Did you?"
"Thought about it, but there were other people around," Shishido admitted,
drawing back and tugging Ohtori away from the door by the hand. "Anyway, why
settle for what I've been doing all along when the real thing is waiting for
me? C'mon, my family are gone all weekend. Let's go to my room."
They both kicked off their shoes, padding down the hall in their bare feet.
Pochi came bounding up to jump on Ohtori and lick at his hands, and he laughed
and scratched her ears. He didn't stop to play with her as he usually would
have, though; Shishido's expression promised murder and mayhem if they put this
off much longer.
Once they were in his room Shishido closed the door, leaving the dog on the
other side. She whined a bit, but neither of the boys were in any mood to play
with her. Ohtori had honestly expected to be pushed against the door again the
moment it was closed, but instead Shishido hesitated, looking at him almost
uncertainly.
"Look, Choutarou," the older boy cleared his throat. "I don't want to fuck this
up by making assumptions, damn it. I'm sure as hell not going to put the brakes
on, but if we're going too fast or I do something you don't want, tell me okay?
I can't read your mind, however much it might feel like I can sometimes on the
court."
Swallowing, Ohtori nodded. Shishido was all but coming right out and saying
that if Ohtori didn't object, they were going to end up having sex today. The
thought made Ohtori more than a little nervous. It wasn't that he didn't want
to, exactly, but what if he was too sore to play properly tomorrow? The coach
wasn't going to forgive them for a poor performance twice in a row.
"What is it?" Shishido had moved closer, and the heat in his eyes had been
banked behind a shield of concern. "Choutarou? You look worried. Whatever it
is, you have to tell me, okay? I promise I won't get mad or be frustrated or
any shit like that. It's no fun for me if you aren't as into it as I am."
"It's just I'm..." Ohtori shook his head, his voice hoarse with nerves. "I
don't want to be too stiff to play tomorrow. And I don't want to just rush into
this. But," he gave Shishido a helpless look. "If I was willing to do it for
Kazuya, then it's stupid for me to tell you I'm not ready." He bit his lip.
"So... so it's okay. Whatever you want to do. I want it too, Ryou."
"What?" Surprised, Shishido caught him by the shoulders. "Whoa, hang on a
minute. You're not seriously trying to tell me that just because you had sex
with Amano, you think you've got no reason to want to wait with me?" When
Ohtori just nodded slightly, Shishido smacked him on the side of the head hard
enough to sting.
"Dumbass!" the older boy almost snarled, scowling. "Don't be stupid, Choutarou.
Fuck, if this was a first date with someone else, would you be hopping into bed
with them just because you'd done it before?"
"No, of course not," Ohtori said, frowning. "It's not the same thing. You and
I... it's different. This isn't a 'first date'. We're way past that point, and
I think maybe we have been since you first asked me to help you train."
"It's exactly the same thing," Shishido retorted. "For such a bright guy you're
remarkably dense sometimes Choutarou. It doesn't matter if you've done it
before, or how fast you did it with someone else. This is about you and me,
nobody else. You don't have to do a damn thing you're not ready for." His eyes
narrowed dangerously. "Did Amano push you into having sex with him?"
"No!" Ohtori denied that firmly, knowing that if Shishido even suspected such a
thing was true he'd probably run off to beat the hell out of Ohtori's ex-
boyfriend. "No, definitely not. I think maybe I pressured myself into it, but
it wasn't his fault."
Reaching out, he tugged his partner into an embrace, burying his face in the
still-damp strands of Shishido's hair. "I do want this, Ryou. I want you. I'm
just nervous."
"We'll take it slow, then," Shishido assured him, leaning into him. "No sex
till you say you're ready, I promise." He turned his head so Ohtori could see
his wicked grin. "There's plenty of other things we can have fun doing, I'm
sure." He leaned up and captured Ohtori's mouth in another steamy kiss,
effectively distracting the younger boy from any further concerns.
Worry about it when you get to that point, he told himself firmly. Hopefully by
the time they got that far he'd have gotten worked up enough not to care any
more. No matter what Shishido said, it didn't feel right to withhold anything
from his partner that he'd given his ex-boyfriend. He'd decided to stop holding
back from what they both wanted, and he hadn't intended for there to be any
limits or restrictions on that decision.
For now, though, he was perfectly happy to just enjoy himself and not think
about it for a while. He kissed Shishido back, teasing with his tongue as he
explored to find all of Shishido's most sensitive spots. It didn't take long
before he had the older boy shivering against him, hands clenched on Ohtori's
shoulders as they pressed tighter together.
"Gods, you're really good at that," Shishido murmured as they finally drew
apart to catch their breath. "You're going to make me feel inadequate if you're
not careful."
"I wouldn't worry about it if I were you," Ohtori assured him breathlessly.
"You're a fast learner." They kissed again, Ohtori's hands coming to Shishido's
waist this time to tug at the sides of his shirt, trying to get it untucked
from his jeans.
Taking a step back, Shishido tugged Ohtori after him. "Bed," he commanded
between quick, hungry kisses. "You're too damn tall, I can't reach you
properly."
"Clothes first," Ohtori insisted, resisting the movement. "Or we'll get all
tangled up, trust me."
Growling, whether in frustration at the delay or because of the reminder that
he wasn't Ohtori's first, Shishido nevertheless stopped trying to pull him over
to the bed. "Hurry," was all he said as their hands fumbled with each other's
clothes.
It should have been slow, an opportunity to explore each other as each piece of
clothing came off. That was how Ohtori had always imagined it, anyway. Reality
was nowhere near as patient, however. They'd waited too long, teased each other
too much, and now there was only a desperate need to be skin to skin at long
last that caused them to tear at fabric and fastenings with muffled curses. In
the end, Ohtori discovered, he didn't really care if it matched his fantasy. It
was good, that was all that mattered. They could do the slow exploring next
time.
Or the time after that, or the time after that... because there was no way
Ohtori was letting go of Shishido any time soon. They'd have plenty of time to
try everything either of them could think of.
Finally his hands were tracing over the sleek muscles he'd been admiring in the
change room with nothing between them and his fingers but Shishido's smooth
skin. Still kissing hungrily, Shishido pushed him towards the bed again and
this time Ohtori went willingly. Part of him couldn't believe this was really
happening at last. The rest of him was just enjoying itself, totally beyond any
sort of coherent thought.
Once he had Ohtori half pinned to the mattress Shishido seemed to take hold of
himself, slowing the pace a bit despite Ohtori's protesting moan. His hot mouth
trailed over the bare skin of Ohtori's chest, tracing the muscles tennis and
training had carved on him, teasing him with little licks and nips. "Ryou!"
Ohtori exclaimed as his partner bit down on one taut nipple, worrying at it
with his teeth.
"Too much?" Shishido asked, lifting up slightly to look at him.
"Not hardly," Ohtori replied, frustrated. "I want to touch you too."
An unholy glee joined the lust in his partner's eyes. "Patience, Choutarou,"
the older boy murmured, ducking his head and biting again. With a soft cry
Ohtori writhed beneath him, arching against him and rubbing up to try to get
the friction his body was demanding.
He could feel Shishido's cock hard against his thigh, and he shifted his leg to
press against it. That wrung a moan from the older boy, but Ohtori didn't have
long to enjoy his victory. Shishido's fingers wrapped around him in return,
making his breath catch in his throat as he stroked slowly over the sensitive
skin.
Well, two could play at that game. Ohtori slid his hand between them and ran
his fingers lightly over Shishido's erection, marvelling at the feel of it. The
foreskin slid easily back as he tugged it down, letting him rub his fingertips
against the sensitive head and making Shishido gasp and jerk against him.
"Tease," Shishido growled, but there was no rancour in the word. "You know what
teases get, Choutarou?"
"Ravished?" Ohtori hazarded a guess, grinning down at his partner.
"Nope." Shishido sounded just a bit too smug for Ohtori's peace of mind,
considering the situation. The younger boy's grin faded as he saw the wicked
look on his partner's face. "They get teased back."
Now it was Ohtori's turn to gasp as Shishido shifted down further, moving so
his body was cradled between Ohtori's legs and he could reach the younger boy's
cock with his mouth. A high-pitched whine escaped Ohtori as he writhed beneath
the feel of Shishido's mouth over him, just teasing the tip with lips and
tongue. Here again Shishido's inexperience was obvious; he was just a bit
hesitant and Ohtori saw him grimace with the taste at first. The expression
would have made him laugh if he hadn't been busy panting for air.
"Ryou, you have to... oh gods..." The words he wanted refused to form
coherently, and Ohtori's hands fisted in the bedspread. Embarrassing as it was,
he was on the edge already. He really should have jerked off in the shower
after all, because he wasn't going to last long at this rate. "Stop, please,"
he pleaded, tossing his head on the pillow.
"You kidding me?" Shishido snorted against him, making him shudder. "I've been
dreaming about this since I saw... never mind." To Ohtori's amazement Shishido
slowly turned bright red. He would have asked, curious, but Shishido distracted
him again by licking at his slit, picking up the salty drops that had already
formed there. Ohtori cried out and writhed against him.
"Gods, Ryou, I can't..." Clinging to control with every shred of will he had,
Ohtori was reduced almost to begging. "Please..."
Shishido wasn't stopping, though, and finally Ohtori could hold off orgasm no
longer. He came hard with a keening cry, his whole body shuddering with the
force of it. He felt Shishido try to swallow, and then the other boy came up
coughing and sputtering, making Ohtori laugh even through the last spasms.
"Holy fuck does that ever taste bad," Shishido exclaimed, wiping his mouth with
one hand and making a disgusted face. "I mean, I'd heard it was bad, but that
was awful. How can anyone swallow that?"
"You get used to it," Ohtori snickered. He'd reacted much the same way the
first time he'd tasted it. And several times after the first time, as well.
Tugging Shishido up, he kissed him firmly to prove that he didn't mind the
taste in the least.
Despite how good it had felt Ohtori had to admit to being just a little
disappointed. He was surprised to realize how much he had been hoping that
Shishido would ignore his earlier words and take him anyway. He had come to
learn to enjoy sex with Amano, however much it hurt at first, and he wanted to
experience it with Shishido.
He didn't really mind that much if they stopped here, though. He'd return the
favour and was more than happy to do so, and they could save the rest for
later. Breaking the kiss, Ohtori started to slide down his partner's body.
To his surprise, Shishido stopped him. "Where the hell do you think you're
going?" the older boy asked with a glint in his eyes that made Ohtori's breath
catch. "I'm not done with you yet. Not after waiting this long."
"But..." Wide-eyed, Ohtori stared at him. Granted, like most teenage males his
recovery rate was pretty fast, but surely Shishido wasn't planning to wait that
long for his own release? Wouldn't it make more sense for Ohtori to pleasure
him now, and then they could both wait until they'd recovered to start again?
"Do you trust me?" Shishido asked, catching his chin and making him look
straight into the older boy's eyes.
"Of course," Ohtori answered, bewildered. What did trust have to do with it?
"Good." Satisfied at what he saw in Ohtori's expression, Shishido released him.
"We're not done yet, Choutarou, not by a long shot."
Blinking in confusion, Ohtori watched as Shishido shifted off him long enough
to stretch across and fumble in his bedside drawer. When the older boy came up
with a familiar-looking tube, Ohtori stifled a shocked noise. "I thought you
said..."
"I'm not going to take you," Shishido reassured him, nuzzling against the side
of his neck. "Not yet, anyway. Not till you're begging me for it. And whether
that happens today, or next week, or next year, I don't care."
"Then what...?" Ohtori trailed off, his mind racing over possibilities. Was
Shishido offering to let him top? If so, he shouldn't have made Ohtori come a
moment ago because there was no way he'd be ready for that until he recovered.
And while the thought wasn't entirely unappealing it wasn't what he'd imagined,
what he'd wanted for so long.
"Trust me," Shishido repeated, nipping at his collarbone. "Just relax,
Choutarou."
 
Instead of relaxing, Ohtori automatically braced himself as Shishido squeezed
some of the slick gel onto his palm. "Relax," Shishido commanded him again.
"I'm not gonna hurt you. If it hurts, tell me to stop right away."
"Wha..." The bewildered question turned into a shocked noise as Shishido slid
his hand down and rubbed the lube directly onto and around his ass. Well, some
small remaining rational part of Ohtori's brain thought, he supposed there was
no reason not to apply it there as well, rather than just coating the top's
cock with it and lubricating it that way.
Then the shocked noise tailed off in a moan as Shishido slipped one finger
inside him, working the lube deeper inside him. Ohtori writhed at the totally
unexpected sensation, already half hard again to his own surprise. "Ryou," he
choked out, panting for air. Gods it felt good. It was everything he enjoyed
about sex, only without the painful stretching. Why hadn't it ever occurred to
him and Amano to try this? How had Shishido thought to do it?
"Feels good, huh?" Shishido murmured, his tone husky with amusement and barely-
restrained lust. "Told you I wouldn't hurt you." He was sliding his finger
slowly in and out, mimicking the motions of sex at an excruciatingly slow pace.
Whimpering softly Ohtori arched his hips, mindlessly trying to drive him
deeper.
"That's it," Shishido encouraged him, lowering his head to bite at Ohtori's
nipples again. The next time he withdrew, it felt like he added a second
finger. Something made it feel more full, and stretched Ohtori just the
slightest bit. He whimpered again, but it didn't hurt, not yet. The stretching
sensation felt odd but not painful, and was more than overwhelmed by the
pleasure.
Then Shishido curved his fingers upwards, searching, and Ohtori cried out and
shuddered beneath him. "Oh gods..." Apparently that spot inside him that had
always driven him wild when Amano moved against it was reachable with your
fingers. Almost sobbing, Ohtori arched up again, trying to get more of that
amazing, mind-blowing sensation. As good as it felt during sex, it was a
million times better when there wasn't any pain to distract him from it.
He was fully hard again already, aching with lust as he writhed against those
clever, clever fingers. Vaguely he was aware of Shishido hushing him, stroking
Ohtori's hip with his free hand to help calm him. He wanted that hand on his
cock, damn it. Though he was fairly certain that if Shishido touched him now,
while pressing against that spot inside him, it would be all over for him
again. And he doubted he'd get it up as quickly a third time, teenage hormones
or not.
When Shishido stopped pressing and returned to stroking slowly inside him,
Ohtori started swearing at him incoherently. Laughing, Shishido kept stroking
in and out of him, flicking one fingertip up every so often just to see Ohtori
choke and writhe again.
This time when Shishido added a finger the burn of the stretch was noticeable,
but Ohtori didn't care. It still didn't hurt, not really, and the only thing he
could focus on was the way his whole body would spasm every time Shishido
fingered that spot inside him.
Belatedly it occurred to him that three fingers must have been forcing him open
nearly as wide as Shishido's cock would have. Unlike Amano and Ohtori, the
older boy didn't have a musician's long, slender fingers. Why didn't it hurt?
Amano had gone this slow sometimes, so it wasn't just a matter of speed.
Lost in the pleasure and his own confused thoughts, Ohtori nearly screamed when
Shishido suddenly withdrew his fingers entirely. "Ryou!" he cried out,
clutching helplessly at his partner's shoulders. He felt empty and aching
inside, his cock was weeping with need, and he'd really been enjoying the
thought of coming with Shishido's fingers stroking inside him, giving pleasure
but no pain.
"Shh," Shishido hushed him, moving up to kiss him and cradle him gently in his
arms. It was nice, but it wasn't anything near what Ohtori wanted, damn it.
"It's all right, Choutarou."
"It bloody well is not 'all right'," Ohtori countered, opening his eyes to
glare at his partner. Who, he discovered to his further irritation, was
smirking at him again. At least this time the smirk was tempered by the blazing
need in Shishido's eyes, and the way his whole body was shaking slightly. He
was just as badly off as Ohtori was, clearly. Despite the empty feeling that
was eating away at his insides, Ohtori smiled at him. "What's wrong, Ryou? Did
it turn you on to do that to me?"
"Damn fucking straight it did," Shishido growled, kissing him again fiercely
this time. "What do you want, Choutarou? You want me to go back and finish you
off like that, and then you can suck me off afterwards?"
"Yes," Ohtori started to agreed almost desperately. Then he shook his head,
contradicting himself. "No. I..." Almost hesitantly he reached for Shishido's
cock, making the older boy gasp and shudder against him as he wrapped his
fingers around it. Shishido was hard, so hard Ohtori could practically feel him
throbbing with the same need that pulsed through Ohtori's veins. He had a long,
relatively slender cock, and Ohtori didn't think it was much wider than three
fingers, especially Shishido's fingers.
"I want... you inside me," he whispered, not quite able to look his partner in
the eyes as he said it. He still wasn't completely sure, but he wanted to try.
Shishido was no bigger than Amano, at least, so it couldn't possible hurt any
worse.
"You sure?" Shishido sounded like he was nearing the breaking point, but he
still stopped to ask. "Choutarou, are you really damn sure? Because once I
start I don't think I could stop."
"I'm sure," Ohtori said, his voice a little stronger this time. He looked up at
Shishido, his eyes determined. "I'm sure," he repeated more firmly. "I want
you, Ryou. Do it, please."
"Just..." Shishido's voice cracked, and he took a deep breath, closing his eyes
briefly as he visibly fought for control. "Just a second."
He reached for the drawer again, to Ohtori's confusion. What else could they
possibly need? He blushed again when his partner withdrew a little square foil
packet. Oh. Right, that.
"Why?" he asked, confused. "We don't need it, do we?" It wasn't like he could
get pregnant. And he'd only ever been with Amano, and they'd both been virgins
at the time. As far as he knew Shishido hadn't ever been with anyone else -
though he was starting to wonder, given how good he apparently was at this - so
they shouldn't be in any danger of disease.
"There's things you can get even if you've never had sex before," Shishido
muttered, a blush staining his cheeks as well.
"How do you know all this stuff?" Ohtori couldn't resist asking as Shishido
tore open the little packet. Reaching out, Ohtori helped him smooth the condom
over Shishido's cock, feeling a little disappointed as the sleek skin was
hidden from him by the thin sheath.
Somewhat to his amusement, Shishido's blush grew brighter. "Atobe dragged me
home with him last night and gave me like an hour long lecture," he muttered to
Ohtori's total shock. "I don't know how the hell he suspected this was going to
happen soon, but he said he damn well wasn't going to let me fuck this up too."
Caught between laughter and mortification at the mental image of Atobe
lecturing Shishido about how to have sex, Ohtori choked and buried his face in
Shishido's shoulder. "He didn't," he protested, body shaking with laughter.
"Surely not even Atobe-san... oh gods. He must have known what Jirou-san was
planning to say to me. How does he know all this stuff? Or do I not want to
ask?"
"Meddling bastards," Shishido complained without any real anger. "He said he
got it from research off the net, mostly. How he found anything but porn sites
I'll never know."
"You too?" Ohtori blurted out, then bit his lip against another burst of
nervous laughter. He'd tried that after his disastrous first time with Amano,
but hadn't been able to find much. The knowledge that Shishido had faced the
same problem was amusing; almost as amusing as the thought of their former
captain browsing around looking for the same information.
"Let's stop talking about Atobe," Shishido suggested, his eyes darkening as he
moved in to kiss Ohtori again. "I've got more interesting things to think
about. Like driving you slowly out of your mind."
"You've already done that," Ohtori assured him, his voice going husky again as
Shishido pumped his hand over Ohtori's cock briefly. "Gods, Ryou, just take me
already. I can't stand it much longer."
"You and me both," Shishido murmured, shifting until he was lying cradled
against Ohtori's hips again. Ohtori raised his knees to give him better access,
starting to feel nervous again as Shishido's cock rubbed against him. It hadn't
felt nearly that big in his hand, but then again maybe that was just his nerves
speaking.
"Hey, relax," Shishido urged him again. Ohtori tried, but only ended up tensing
further because he knew that if he didn't relax it was going to hurt even more.
Shifting, Shishido held himself up on his hands over Ohtori's body, looking up
at him. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice carrying the force of an order.
Ohtori did and was immediately caught by the intensity in Shishido's eyes.
"Good," the older boy murmured. "Now don't look away. Just keep watching me."
They stared at each other for a long moment, and Ohtori was inevitably reminded
of the game where he'd accidentally struck Shishido with a Scud Serve. Shishido
had done this to calm him then, too, and it had worked well. He blushed as he
remembered that he'd wondered at the time what it would be like to have sex
while doing this. Apparently he was about to find out.
Slowly their breathing synchronized, fast as it was. Still staring intently
down into his eyes, Shishido pressed forward. It felt... odd, like the three
fingers had but more so. The stretching was almost painful, but it was nothing
like what he was used to feeling. Surprised, he let out the breath he hadn't
realized he'd been holding and relaxed a little more. That helped, and the
larger head of Shishido's cock finally slipped inside him.
Now it only felt full, and he made a little noise of surprise. Their height
difference was too great for Shishido to be able to kiss him from this
position, but the older boy ducked his head and licked at Ohtori's chest, still
not breaking his gaze.
Ohtori could feel the effort it was taking for Shishido to restrain himself in
the way the older boy was shaking, but he eased himself forward an inch at a
time, giving Ohtori more than enough time to adjust. By the time he was all the
way inside Ohtori was moaning and squirming beneath him, trying to urge him to
forget about going slow and just hurry. It didn't hurt, and that meant he got
all the exquisite pleasure without the distracting pain. He wanted more, and he
wanted it now.
"Ryou!" he gasped when his partner stopped and just rested there for a long
moment, panting. "Ryou, gods, you're killing me. Move!"
"If I move right now, that's all you're gonna get," Shishido gritted out
through clenched teeth, and the look in his eyes was so hot Ohtori felt
scorched all the way through. "Just gimme a second, Choutarou. Hold still damn
it!" he added desperately when Ohtori squirmed again.
A sly smile tugged at the corner of Ohtori's mouth. "Why?" he asked in his best
innocent tone. "What happens when I move?" He arched up, driving Shishido just
a little further into him, and they both gasped.
"Choutarou!" Shishido protested, obviously hanging onto his control by the
barest margin. He finally looked away, closing his eyes and fighting with
himself to stay still.
"Do it, Ryou," Ohtori murmured, wrapping his arms around the older boy and
tugging him close. "I want to feel you. I want you to break me into a million
pieces."
"Fuck," Shishido swore, and gave in. He pulled out and thrust home again almost
violently, the motion rocking Ohtori back against the pillow until he almost
hit the headboard. Still there was no pain, and Ohtori revelled in the force of
it.
"More," he begged, tilting his hips up to try to get Shishido to hit that spot
inside him again. Groaning, Shishido thrust into him harder, though he refused
to speed his pace. He shifted to change his angle as Ohtori tipped his hips up
farther, and the younger boy's eyes nearly rolled back into his head in sheer
ecstasy as Shishido drilled straight into that amazing place.
"Gods!" he cried out, tossing his head back. The fingers had been good, but
this was better. Way, way better. With no pain at all involved, he felt like he
really was going to fly apart at the seams if it continued much longer. Yet he
had absolutely no desire to stop.
As good as it felt, though, he didn't think he'd be able to come just from
this, and it didn't sound like Shishido was going to last much longer. Snaking
his hand down between them, Ohtori grasped his own cock and stroked it in time
to Shishido's thrusts. He thought it would have felt even better if Shishido
were the one touching him, but he could tell by the way the older boy's arms
were shaking that it was all he could do to hold himself up as it was. That was
fine; if it had been any better Ohtori seriously thought he might have had a
heart attack.
It didn't take more than a few strokes before the familiar tightening feeling
swept over him, like everything in his body was winding up for this one last
moment. With a shout that made him glad they were alone in the apartment, the
tension finally snapped and Ohtori came hard all over his hand and stomach.
"Choutarou," Shishido gasped like it was his dying prayer, and opened his eyes
to stare into Ohtori's again. He was still moving through the spasms of
Ohtori's body, his thrusts growing frantic and increasingly unsteady. The fire
in his eyes turned the irises into glittering sapphires, and Ohtori stared back
at him utterly entranced. Here was the connection he'd always thought sex
should create, the feeling that they were one being in two not-very-separate
bodies. He cried out again as Shishido tensed and shuddered against him,
spilling his seed and collapsing against Ohtori's chest.
From somewhere Ohtori summoned the energy to wrap his arms around his partner,
rubbing gently at the twitching muscles of his back. He could feel Shishido's
hot breath gusting over his throat in ragged pants, and the older boy was still
shivering as the aftershocks wore off.
"I love you." For a long moment Ohtori wasn't even sure which of them had said
the words. He wasn't sure it really mattered. The reverent whisper encompassed
everything they'd been through, everything they were feeling right now, and
everything they ever might be to each other. It was so different from, and so
far beyond, the crush he'd had on his partner last year that it couldn't even
begin to be compared. And it felt utterly, inexplicably right in a way Ohtori
couldn't define. Certainly in a way it had never felt with Amano.
In that moment Ohtori knew that as much as he'd cared for his ex-boyfriend,
he'd never loved him. Not like this. The realization made him sad, a little,
but mostly just grateful that he and Shishido had managed to fix things between
them before they'd lost the chance at this.
"Love you too, Choutarou," Shishido replied, turning to nuzzle against Ohtori's
shoulder. His voice was full of sleepy satisfaction, like he'd just been given
everything he'd ever wanted.
Running the fingers of one hand idly through his partner's - his lover's -
hair, Ohtori sighed in utter contentment. For all the pain and heartbreak it
had taken to get them to this point, he decided, it was still worth it.
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