[Fic] Jealousy - PoT, ShishiTori, 12/?
I started posting this 26 days ago... one more chapter and I'll have passed NaNo length, and that should be up in the next day or two. ;p Too bad fanfiction doesn't count.
Title: Jealousy
Series: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: ShishiTori, Tori/?
Rating: Eventual NC-17
Word Count: chapter = 4697 fic so far = 47,504
Summary: Sometimes you don't appreciate the value of what you've got, until you don't have it any more.
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.
Title: Jealousy
Series: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: ShishiTori, Tori/?
Rating: Eventual NC-17
Word Count: chapter = 4697 fic so far = 47,504
Summary: Sometimes you don't appreciate the value of what you've got, until you don't have it any more.
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.