Happy Santa_Smex, akahannah!
To: akahannah
From:pixxers
Title: Better Than Before
Recipient's name: akahannah
Rating: R
Pairing(s): Oshitari/Gakuto
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created by Konomi Takeshi. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
better than before
Kikumaru’s always saying that life is too short to ever hesitate. Easy for him to say - he’s got his doubles partner stashed securely in his back pocket.
It’s moments like these, when I’m hanging around after practice, just waiting for Yuushi to notice me, that I wonder why the hell I ever bother to listen to stupid Kikumaru in the first place. His situation is nothing like mine and his partner isn’t the biggest chick-magnet in three prefectures, even if Kikumaru likes to think that he is.
Thinking about Kikumaru’s perfect life and perfect boyfriend and perfectly irritating habit of offering me the worst kind of advice ever distracted me and it was only when the group of giggling females began to assemble behind me that I realized I was no longer alone.
“He should be coming out any minute!” One girl said, breathy with excitement and stupidity.
“He probably took a shower and his hair will be all wet!” Said another, who sounded exactly like the first.
“I hear he’s single,” said yet another, her voice low with confidence and conceit and it was to this observation that the giggling began anew. Apparently, discussing Yuushi’s relationship status was more important to them than dragging their trampy asses home for dinner. Girls are so stupid.
I didn’t turn around, didn’t want Yuushi coming out to see me verbally abusing his fan club. Again. But it pissed me off. Was I invisible? I mean, was I not standing right in front of them? And what in the hell was taking Yuushi so long? I suppose he just expected me to stand outside and wait for him to make an appearance, like I had nothing better to do. Like I was desperate. Like I was pathetic.
Like I was no better - and no different - than one of these girls.
Fuck you, Yuushi. I don’t need this.
“Mou, Gakkun,” Kikumaru said, crumbs flying everywhere, as he had the table manners of a developmentally challenged two-year-old. “This is stupid. You’re wasting time. Tell him.”
I rolled my eyes and knelt beside Oishi, who was puzzling over his assignment. It was Oishi I’d come to talk to, anyway. No matter that Kikumaru’s unfortunate jealousy had made us enemies once, after I’d actually spent time with Seigaku’s Golden Pair and made the effort to get to know them, they’d become two of my closest friends. I’d never admit it, but Shishido had been right about Oishi-kun. He was a good guy and a great friend to have. Kikumaru still got on my fucking nerves half the time, but I guess he was okay, too.
“You’re stupid,” I told him, leaning against Oishi with a sigh. Even more surprising than the way we’d instantly clicked was the knowledge that Oishi did not mind me laying all over him and usurping his personal space. Kikumaru hated it, but Oishi didn’t seem to mind. And besides that, Oishi smelled really, really good.
“Oishi. Why is this so freaking hard? Me and Yuushi are friends - best friends - this should be easier.”
Without looking away from the text in his lap, Oishi patted my leg and smiled a little. He’s got the prettiest smile. If I didn’t want Yuushi so much and he weren’t stupid over Kikumaru, I’d have tagged that fine, Seigaku ass months ago.
“That’s why they call it a crush, Gakkun,” he said. “If it were easy, it wouldn’t matter so much.”
I looked over my shoulder at Kikumaru, who had flopped back onto Oishi’s bed and was frowning at me. Under normal circumstances, that frown alone would have cheered me right up.
“What if he doesn’t want me that way?”
Kikumaru shrugged and rolled to one side, head propped on one hand. “Then you’ll have to find someone else to moon over, won’t ya?”
“Oi, Kikumaru - why don’t you just shut…”
Oishi laid his book aside, then and looked at the both of us. “Come on, guys, knock it off.” To me, he said, “Gakkun. It’s just fear, right? You’re afraid that Oshitari-kun will reject you.”
I just blinked. I’d thought we’d established that part already. “Uh…well, yeah.”
Oishi nodded, as though that were precisely the answer he’d expected. “Sometimes you have to push a few boundaries to get what you want. If you like Oshitari-kun and want things to change between you, you’re the only one who can make those changes.”
That made me angry. Why was it always me? When Yuushi and I hung out, it was me who did the asking. When I stayed over at his house, it was because I’d invited myself. When he caught my eyes and gazed at me across the court, it was only because I’d been staring at him for so long, already.
I felt absolutely no interest from Yuushi at all. Whatever we shared - whatever bond was between us - was because I’d worked my ass off for it.
“If it’s one-sided, nothing I do or say can change anything,” I was finally able to admit - and to someone other than myself, even. “I just don’t think he sees me that way.”
Oishi was quiet for a moment and, when I looked up, I saw that he was staring at Kikumaru. The heat, the weight that just that one glance held, was strong enough to rip right through me. Even when it hadn’t been aimed at me.
Still staring at Kikumaru, Oishi tried to make me understand. “Things aren’t always what they seem, Gakkun. Remember that.”
Unable to resist, I snuck a glance at Kikumaru, whose eyes looked huge to me. It was almost like they’d forgotten I was in the room. He licked his lips, eyes fixed on Oishi and I had to admit that I could understand the attraction between them. Briefly, probably because I needed the distraction from my own misery, I began to imagine what it might feel like to watch them touch. To watch them kiss. I knew that they weren’t publicly open about their relationship, but I also knew that - for the people who knew them well - such an admission wasn’t really necessary.
I wanted that for me and for Yuushi.
I left soon after that. Trudged home by myself and read the stupid shoujo manga that Kikumaru had stuffed in my bag just before I left.
“Here,” he’d said. “The lead character has pretty eyes and big boobs. Think about something else for a change.”
Bastard. Telling me to ogle some pencil-drawn twit while he curled up with Oishi. Snuggling his warm body and kissing his mouth while I froze to death near the back of the train.
I tried, too. Tried to get into the story, into the characters. Tried to ignore how pathetically sorry I felt for myself. It didn’t work, though, and just as I was putting the book back into my bag - I’d give it to Jiroh, he loved that Magical girl stuff - my mobile vibrated in my pocket.
I dug it out, glanced at the screen. Told myself not to be an idiot when Yuushi’s name lit up on the LCD and my heart slid into my stomach.
“Yuushi.’
There was a pause, like he was surprised to hear my voice. He’d probably meant to call Atobe, anyway, and had called me by mistake. “Yuushi, I can hear you breathing.”
The train shook and I wobbled. I wished I were home in bed.
“Ah, you didn’t wait for me, Gakuto,” he said, stating the obvious like he always did in that slow-talking, careful way that made my heart beat fast and my throat really tight. “I had to walk home alone.”
I snorted. That was a good one. “Whatever, Yuushi. You took too long in the bathroom, primping like a girl. I got tired of waiting.”
Again, there was a silence and for a few seconds, I felt a little guilty for being such a shit. But then I remembered that he deserved it. “Besides, there was a buncha skirts waiting for you outside. All the giggling was giving me a headache.”
“Are you upset with me, Gakuto?” He asked. Because he’s as stupid as Kikumaru.
“No,” I lied. “Why would I be mad? We’ve barely even spoken to each other today.”
“Maybe that’s why you’re upset with me.”
His words felt like someone had up-ended a bucket of ice-cold water on me and I had to pull the edges of my jacket closer and shrug my shoulders up so that my neck wouldn’t be so cold.
“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said, Yuushi,” I told him. “And I gotta go, my stop is coming up.”
He sighed and it made me want to sigh right back. Another opportunity wasted. Maybe it wasn’t him that was stupid. Maybe it was me.
“I’ll call you later, Yuushi,” I said, and hung up before he could say anything else.
When I stepped off the train, cringing back from the blast of cold air that met me, I knew I’d lied. Whatever I might want, I knew I wouldn’t call him.
Two days later, I gave the manga to Jiroh. He laughed and held it up to the sky as though it might absorb the sun’s rays and make him a Magical boy or something lame like that.
“Don’t get too worked up, Ji-chan. It’s just a book.”
He giggled and whacked me in the back of the head with it. “Just a book that Kikumaru left you a little love note inside of, ne?”
Disbelieving, I stared at the precise lettering inside the front cover. ‘Gakkun. Pull that pole out of your ass and loosen up a little. Mari’s a hot little number. Love and kisses, Kikumaru-sama.’
I groaned and shoved Jiroh aside, which only made him laugh harder. Mari was the main character of the book and her and Jiroh and I could have easily fit inside her bra. At the same time.
“She’s cute, Gakkun!” He called out after me. I just wished he’d go to sleep and shut up. Idiot.
None of my friends were hanging out in the hallways that morning. There were plenty of familiar faces, but none that made me feel glad inside. It occurred to me that there was really only one face that ever made me feel that way, but I apparently wouldn’t be satisfied until I’d made him disappear, too.
Yuushi wasn’t in our second class that morning. I kept sneaking glances at his empty seat, as though staring at the place that he usually parked his ass would make it appear suddenly.
Truly, I was beginning to wear on my own nerves and when my phone buzzed silently in my pocket, I was tempted to ignore it. In the end, I waited until Sensei turned his back before sneaking a glance at my messages. Curiosity never killed this cat - I hated waiting.
Miss me? Was all that it said. The number that appeared above the text was not Yuushi’s.
I frowned, clicked the cursor a few times in case I’d missed any words below those that were displayed. There weren’t any more.
“Mukahi-kun?” Sensei called out, scaring the living shit out of me and making me knock my book off the desk. Several of my classmates snickered at me and I could feel my face heating up. Assholes.
“You are well aware that mobile phones are not allowed inside this classroom. Please excuse yourself to the Principal’s office.”
The laughing continued and so did my embarrassment. I was quick to get my things together, though. Like hell I’d go to the Principal’s office, but I was more than willing to leave class. Maybe I’d take a walk or go stretch out under a tree and nap. Maybe I’d call Yuushi.
The hallways were deserted - not surprisingly since most students didn’t break the rules and get themselves tossed out of class. It wasn’t until I rounded the corner on the way to my locker that I realized I was clenching my jaw.
And that’s when I saw him. Leaning against my locker - casual and unsmiling - was Yuushi. Only Yuushi could make slouching look so ridiculously elegant.
“Sorry about that,” he said, his tone more than enough of an indication that he wasn’t sorry at all.
I hefted my backpack and tried not to dwell on the perfect fit of his uniform. I still think his parents had had his custom-tailored. Snooty bastard.
“About what?” I asked, unable to follow a conversation when his pants were so snug across his thighs.
“Well,” he shrugged, looking sheepish and gorgeous. “I needed to talk to you. I wanted to do it when there wasn’t anyone else around.”
And just like that - instead of letting him know how much it thrilled me that he would do something like that - I went on the offensive. “So you got me kicked out of class? Real smart, Yuushi.”
He didn’t answer, just looked at me, and I stepped forward. “Why weren’t you in class, anyway?”
He shrugged again. I was about to punch him for it. “Didn’t feel like going.”
I rolled my eyes and pushed him aside to get inside my locker. “Stupid,” I muttered.
He gripped my shoulder, then, leaning in just enough that his hair brushed my cheek. I froze.
“Stop calling me ‘stupid’.”
His breath was hot and spicy - like he’d been chewing on cinnamon. I don’t think my knees had ever gone as weak as they did in that moment. It felt like my spine had turned to water and was trickling down my legs.
“I thought we were friends, Gakuto. You’re supposed to be my partner.”
I could feel the blood thrumming along the veins in my neck. My heart was pounding - I knew he could hear it. “I am, Yuushi. We are.”
I sounded like a stupid girl, but what else could I have said? It was a miracle that I was able to speak at all. And then he moved up behind me and all higher thought processes simply shut down.
“You haven’t spoken to me in three days,” he said. Growled, rather.
I had to lick my lips as I was sure they were stuck together somehow. “Yuushi…”
But what could I say? I hadn’t talked to him in three days and I couldn’t have said when I’d intended to talk to him. All I knew was that my heart was pounding and I was beginning to sweat and I could feel the heat prickling at the back of my neck.
But I couldn’t say any of that. I couldn’t tell him that I missed him and I couldn’t tell him that I wanted him to smile and flirt with me the way he smiled and flirted with the girls who chased him so determinedly.
I couldn’t tell him what I really wanted.
“What?” he whispered, his hand sliding down my arm to touch my elbow. “Tell me. What?”
I shoved him back, ran away without a backward glance.
I hadn’t even bothered to close my locker.
Oishi-san’s kitchen smelled like vanilla and peaches. She was round and soft and looked like a Mother should. I wondered what she’d think of my own Mother - all long legs and immaculate clothes. Truly, I doubted she’d think anything of it at all.
Setting a peach tart before me on a tiny, china plate, she settled into the chair next to me and smiled a little.
“Give it a try, Gakuto. I know you like peaches.”
Cutting into the tart slowly - I was careful to use good table manners since I figured Kikumaru never did when he stayed over - I smiled at her a little. I loved peaches.
The first bite was warm and flaky and so sweet that I closed my eyes and sighed with pleasure. “Oishi-san. I wish my Mother could bake as well as you.”
She laughed - it was almost a giggle - and smoothed my hair down the way my own mother did when she was feeling particularly maternal. “She’s a lucky woman, to have a son like you.”
She made me blush, but I wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Truthfully, I visited Oishi for this as much as for the pleasure of his company. Oishi-san loved mothering us.
Passing me a small glass of tea, she tilted her head - content to watch me eat - and continued. “It’s a shame that you came all this way for nothing, Gakuto. Oishi will be disappointed that he missed you.”
I shrugged, not looking up. If I looked even more pitiful than usual, it certainly couldn’t hurt under the circumstances. “It’s okay, Oishi-san. At least I got to talk to you.”
She beamed, patting my hand when I lay my napkin down. “Poor little Gakkun. Is something bothering you, dear? You do look troubled.”
I shrugged again. I didn’t want to appear too eager; that would be beyond degrading. “I guess.”
She clucked her tongue, making those understanding, motherly sounds and poured me another cup of tea. “Girl trouble, then. Ah, well. You’re at the age, I suppose.” Sitting back in her chair, crossing her arms under her breasts, she nodded at me. “Go on, Gakkun. You can tell me all about it.”
And I did. And once I got started, it was impossible to stop and - by the time I was done - it was dark outside and I’d missed my train.
But as I walked along to the next station, I smiled anyway. Oishi had told me that some things weren’t always so simple. Oishi-san, however, saw things a little differently.
“Hai,” was his greeting. He sounded sleepy. I supposed I could understand - it was nearing midnight.
“Yuushi.”
There was a silence, then a rustling, and then the sound of his breathing against the phone. “Gakuto. Are you all right?”
I held the phone next to my ear, closed my eyes and smiled. That voice - that boy - made everything so much better for me.
“I’m better.”
He yawned. “Better than what?”
Stretching out on my back, ankles crossed casually, I realized that I could answer him honestly. “Better than I was.”
We talked a lot more after that. Yuushi waited for me in the morning so that we could walk to class together. In class, we shared private, unspoken jokes that resulted in twin smirks. Our game improved and, though I’d never danced a day in my life, playing with Yuushi felt like dancing.
After practice and afternoon games, I didn’t wait for Yuushi. I didn’t listen to the girls fawn and swoon over his presence because I was just too wrapped up in him myself to notice anything else. Besides, now he waited for me.
Oddly enough, through the weeks that I’d allowed him close and wanted to pull him closer, still, we hadn’t touched. He was careful of my boundaries even when I wished he could understand that I’d long since torn them down. The only time he touched me was on the court. A hand at my shoulder, my elbow, the small of my back. He grasped my hand to hoist me up when I fell and if I stumbled and he was nearby - he always caught me.
I had him. And I knew it. The only problem now was that I wanted more.
Two weeks later, with Yuushi waiting for me at the station, I slowed my steps to make A Very Important Phone Call while I hurried to meet him.
I could hear Kikumaru yammering in the background and it made me want to laugh to realize that it didn’t bother me at all. In fact, if he’d been standing in front of me, I’d have hugged his unfortunate, graceless body in shared joy. Yuushi had finally, finally asked me to accompany him someplace - his words, not mine. It was a date.
“Gakkun, just calm down. It’s your first date - nobody does…that…on a first date.”
Kikumaru snorted. “You obviously don’t remember Niou Masaharu.”
“Eiji!” Oishi gasped.
That made me laugh. Marui had told me tales about Niou Masaharu that would send a pious individual straight into cardiac arrest. I wondered if perhaps I shouldn’t have called him.
“Gakkun, are you sure this is a date? A romantic one?”
My steps got even slower at that. “You mean there’s different kinds?”
Kikumaru laughed. “Stupid Gakkun.”
“Oishi, can you please take me off speaker?” I asked, annoyed. Those charitable feelings I’d experienced toward Kikumaru a moment ago were rapidly diminishing.
Stupid Kikumaru.
“Sorry, Gakkun. You’re not on speaker, though. Eiji is just nosy.”
Truer words had never been spoken and I was about to agree profusely when I heard a muffled giggle and a bit of fumbling through the phone.
Christ. Did they have to play grab ass when I was trying to get some fucking advice?
“Oishi!” I yelled, glancing around almost immediately to see if anyone had heard me. Talk about embarrassing.
“Sorry, Gakkun, sorry,” he said, breathless and not sounding at all as sorry as I felt he should have. “What I’m trying to say is that I doubt Oshitari-kun has any expectations of your relationship in that regard. This is probably new to him, too.”
Now, that made me laugh. Romance? Sex? New to Yuushi? “You don’t know Yuushi,” I told him.
What Oishi said next stuck with me all the rest of that night.
“Maybe you don’t know him as well as you think.”
As it turned out, Yuushi’s idea of a date was Yakisoba and a movie. We’d watched the screen raptly, though after it was over I couldn’t have told anyone much about it. There had been a Yakuza and his girlfriend and some family custody issues and a car chase and then somebody got shot. Somebody came into a lot of money and the guy ended up alone at the end. Anyway, I wasn’t paying attention because - ten minutes in - Yuushi took my hand in his and slipped those long, graceful fingers through mine.
His palm had been hot and dry.
Outside, the air was cold, but Yuushi was all warmth and solidity beside me. I felt bulky and lost inside the coat I wore, but I hadn’t minded so much when Yuushi had tugged an extra pair of mittens from his pocket and insisted that I put them on.
Mittened palm to mittened palm we walked along deserted sidewalks; glad to have left the city behind. There wouldn’t be a parting of ways this time, though. Our destination was the same.
Yuushi had invited me to stay the night.
Inside his room, swimming inside a pair of Yuushi’s pajamas, I sat cross-legged on his bed and scowled at his teasing.
“Na, Gakuto. Those pants are a little big, I think.”
“I can’t help it if you’re a towering giant.”
He laughed, ruffling my hair like he’d always done during a game or during practice. My immediate sense of déjà vu was hot and stifling though there was no sun high overhead this time. I got a little anxious, thinking that perhaps Oishi was going to be wrong yet again.
“Yuushi?”
He sat down on the bed beside me, flipping through DVD covers and thoughtfully reading the synopsis of each one. That struck me as silly, but yet oddly typical of Yuushi. He owned those DVDs - shouldn’t he know what they were about?
“Why don’t you kiss me?”
I wanted to slap myself as soon as the words had left my lips. I mean, I’d wanted to say it, but not like that. Gah.
His eyes widened behind his glasses and he gaped at me. “What? Now?”
I was about to disagree. Call him stupid and elaborate until he understood what the hell I was talking about. The words wouldn’t come, though. I realized that ‘now’ was exactly what I wanted.
“Yeah,” I said, really hoping that I wasn’t whispering. It sure sounded like I had. “Yeah, now.”
He blushed and I thought I might throw up. Yuushi was bashful and everything inside me clenched almost painfully tight.
When he lay the DVD cases aside and began to edge closer to me, I leaned over to grip the back of his neck. “I think I love you, Yuushi.”
That wasn’t me. Those words weren’t mine. He wasn’t staring at me like he was going to burst into flames and I wasn’t about to toss him to his back and climb on top of him.
But it was. And they were. And he was. And I wanted to.
Oh, how I wanted to.
“Yuushi, say something,”
He blinked, slow so those long lashes swept against his glasses and though I’m not sure who moved first or what really happened, within seconds, I was on my back and he was over me. He kissed me hard, his tongue pushing past my lips in the same moment that I wrapped my legs around his waist and shoved my hands into his long, mussed hair.
I think I took off his glasses, but I’m sure it wasn’t me who tossed them aside so carelessly even when all that was in my mind was Yuushi, Yuushi, Yuushi. It wasn’t until I felt his fingertips sliding beneath my shirt and the familiar, embarrassing hardness between my legs that it dawned on me I was actually moaning Yuushi’s name in a mindless sort of mantra. I had no doubt that he was appreciative, however, as he was gasping for breath when he finally broke our kiss.
“Gakuto,” he panted, grinding against me and catching my moan against his lips. “How many guys have you kissed before me?”
That one took me a minute. Still lost in the hazy heat of his kiss and his touch, I was still trying to slip my hands into the back of his pants when it dawned on me exactly what he’d said.
“What? None. What’s wrong with you?”
I guess he felt me shift beneath him because his grip tightened and I couldn’t move. He needn’t have bothered - I wasn’t going anywhere that he didn’t take me himself.
He kissed me again, slower this time and with less determination. He nibbled at my lower lip, sucked it gently between his teeth and I blushed when my cock jerked against his thigh.
“I think I should ask you that question, Yuushi.”
He grinned and - just like that - he was again the Yuushi I knew. Confident and wicked and unruffled. I wonder if Atobe ever stared at his own reflection and, somehow, saw Yuushi there. Yuushi - my Yuushi - was so much more than any other boy could ever hope to aspire to.
I was proud of him. I was proud of me.
I was horny as all fuck.
“None,” he finally said, rocking his hips in a slow, deliberate circle that had me arching my back and lifting my hips for more.
I bit his lip, hooked my ankles around his calves and thrust against him. He moaned. I shivered.
“Girls, then?”
“None,” he said again, lips parted and slick with my saliva. He was mine. Mine.
“Liar,” was all I said. I didn’t want to talk anymore.
Not half an hour later we lay amidst tangled bed sheets. We were still dressed, though the state of our pajama pants hadn’t fared quite so well as the shirts.
Side by side we lay, fingers touching, as we stared up at the ceiling. I was content and I could tell he was, too. It had taken an embarrassingly short amount of time to get where we’d wanted to go and though I’d come first, Yuushi had followed right after. He didn’t indicate that he wanted anything else, for all the soft, lingering kisses he’d pressed to my mouth after, but I had a feeling we weren’t done exploring just yet.
It was barely ten o’clock. I still had time to break Niou’s record.
“Yuushi?”
He turned his head slowly, flashing that satisfied, lazy smile at me. God, but he was delicious. “Mm?”
“What I said. Earlier. You know…”
He nodded once. “Yes, I remember.”
I felt as though I needed to explain or something. While I wasn’t about to pretend I hadn’t meant it - even though I’d had no intention of actually saying it - I didn’t want that awkwardness between us. “I won’t take it back.”
He smiled, ruffled my bangs a little. “Stupid. I wouldn’t let you.”
Whatever I’d planned to say was forgotten when my phone buzzed once, twice. I sighed. “I should get that. It might be my Mom.”
He nodded, his thumb stroking my cheek when he let me move away. “We need to clean up.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him not to bother, as we’d certainly be getting wet and sticky again soon enough, when I flipped open my phone.
Yuushi shifted. I scowled. There, in backlit text, was a message from Kikumaru. Using Oishi’s number. I hoped Oishi blessed that rat out good for playing around with his phone. I rolled my eyes - he probably wouldn’t.
‘Hoi, Gakkun. Didja get any, or what?’
I looked over my shoulder at Yuushi as I closed the phone again. He had his back to me - he’d tugged his shirt off - and I forgot what I was going to say.
“Everything okay?” He asked me, twisting to look at me.
I tossed the phone aside and grinned, pouncing him the way I’d always wanted to. Looking down at Yuushi was a trip - I couldn’t imagine anything looking better - feeling better - than this.
“Oh, yeah.”
It was better than okay.
END