PoT Fic: A Necessary Evil (Fujicest, R)
A Necessary Evil
Fuji/Yuuta, R
Konomi's, not mine
a/n: I think I get roasted in the hellfire for this. Someone remind me to take marshmallows with me when I die.
Most little girls like to play dress-up, and Fuji Yumiko was no exception. Most members of the Fuji family did things at an acute angle to the rest of the world, and Fuji Yumiko was no exception in that either.
Even as a five year old, Yuuta had protested loudly and vociferously at being Yumiko's real-live doll. He kicked and spat and hid under the stairs when she got out her old dresses and the makeup stubs Okaasan allowed her to play with.
Syuusuke, on the other hand, meekly submitted to Yumiko's demands. With his big shiny eyes and soft shiny hair, Syuusuke was a pretty little boy anyway. He was the polar opposite of Yuuta, whose grandmother called him a grub in human form.
When Syuusuke was wearing a pink dress with a white collar, and had his mouth smeared with cherry lipstick and his cheeks inexpertly rouged, he really did look like a girl. There was no way that Yumiko was getting Yuuta to look like that.
"There," she cooed, holding up a mirror to Syuusuke's face. "Don't you look cute, Syuu-chan?"
Yuuta, who was hiding behind her bedroom door, scowled. Syuusuke didn't look cute, he looked insane. Apart from anything else, Yumiko's style of makeup application was slapdash at best.
"Hmm," said Syuusuke. He took the mirror in his hands and peered down at it.
"You look stupid!" yelled Yuuta, unable to help himself despite the yellow dress that was sitting on the bed, all ready and waiting for him.
Yumiko got her revenge. She didn't try to coerce Yuuta into dressing up -- but she did force him to marry Syuusuke. They both had to put their hands on the statue of the fat man and swear that they'd be married forever and ever. Then Yumiko told Syuusuke to kiss his husband and he did, putting both arms around Yuuta's neck and getting globs of lipstick all over his chin.
Yuuta still worries that those vows were binding.
__
Yuuta's least favourite subject is history. He doesn't like remembering the past. It doesn't help that the history teacher in St Rudolph's is less than gifted in the oratory department. His droning, nasal whine is enough to lull Yuuta into constant boredom but still too annoying to let him drift off completely.
They're doing a unit on the ancient world. Today the topic is the Egyptians. Yuuta idly draws a picture of Yanagisawa, who has fallen asleep against the window with his thumb in his mouth.
"The Egyptian royalty married brother to sister," drawls the sensei. Heat rushes to Yuuta's cheeks. He doesn't know why he feels guilty -- he must appear to be one of the liveliest people in the class, given that he's writing and everything. "This was to keep the blood pure."
The sensei catches his eye. Yuuta flushes harder and begins to scribble random characters industriously. The sensei shifts topic to how the Egyptians removed the brains of their dead by sticking spoons up their noses, and Yuuta's off the hook.
He looks down at his notebook, yawning. The kanji swim before his eyes.
His seemingly arbitrary notation reassembles itself into the word Syuusuke.
__
Yuuta prefers to stay in St Rudolph's at weekends. Regardless of what people might think, this is more because he doesn't want to break his training schedule than because he wants to avoid his family. He loves his parents and his sister, and even Syuusuke -- although he'd never admit that aloud. He just wishes they were a bit more normal. He'd like it if Yumiko would go out with ordinary, decent guys rather than cokeheads who play in bands. He'd prefer that his father wouldn't tell them so much about the half-brother they have in America. It would be nice if his mother wouldn't wear Yumiko's clothes and high heels in public so that no one thinks he has two sisters.
As for Syuusuke, if he were less of a genius at tennis that would make Yuuta's life considerably easier. But unlike the rest of the family's predilections, Syuusuke's talent isn't something he can help.
Not that Yuuta would admit that, either.
On the last weekend before his father's two-month business trip to Kentucky, Okaasan phones Yuuta's dormitory and tells him pleasantly that she's sure he'll be around to bid his father farewell. When Yuuta suggests that he isn't quite so certain of the fact, Okaasan sighs and murmurs that she's been so busy with preparations, she clean forgot to transfer his allowance into his bank account.
Yuuta caves.
When he arrives he has to open the door with his key. Theirs is not so much a family home as a rest stop on the way to somewhere else. Yumiko will be in some smoke-filled green room with her latest bass guitarist. Okaasan might be on a date or at a night class. Tousan is either in the office or in a hot springs, as he seems unable to tell the difference between the two.
Syuusuke is probably at home, but he doesn't do things like answer the door to people who have keys.
As usual, the fridge is empty. Most day-old food is sacrificed to the need to keep Yumiko and Okaasan on their strict diets, which change every second week. Yuuta finds a packet of weird American 'rice-cakes' in the cupboard. They taste like cardboard, not rice, but Yuuta had to skip supper to catch the bus here and he's hungry enough not to care.
He finds Syuusuke in the bathroom, applying lip-gloss.
A lot of boys Yuuta knows have started to wear makeup. It's a fashion statement, like rolled-down Converse or neck chains with dog tags on them. Mizuki puts on lip-gloss and spot concealer and mascara every day, and while the effect is pretty good it seems like far too much effort to Yuuta. Even Yanagisawa covers his lips with moisturising balm before matches. He says the wind chaps them.
Syuusuke sees Yuuta in the mirror and opens his eyes halfway. "I didn't know you were coming home."
"Yeah, well. Okaasan threatened to cut my allowance if I didn't." Yuuta winces. It's not quite true. Despite the fact that the gym is getting in new dumbbells tomorrow, Yuuta still would have come home to see his father even without his mother's prodding. It's just that Syuusuke always seems to make him say the nastier version of every truth.
"Ah." Syuusuke rolls the nub of the lip-gloss across his mouth, from corner to corner. The motion comes easily to him, but because he's Syuusuke that doesn't mean he's done it before.
Yuuta stays watching until Syuusuke presses his lips together and turns away from the sink. "Would you like some, Yuuta?"
Yuuta shrugs, half-fascinated, half-wary. He'd quite like to know what it feels like. There are lots of things that fall under that category, but Yuuta's not sure that finding out would always be a good idea.
"What would I need it for?" he asks, seconds before Syuusuke pinches his chin between two long fingers.
Syuusuke smiles as he squeezes the little tube. Gel spurts out, wet and cold against Yuuta's lip.
"It makes your lips softer, and that feels nice when someone kisses them." Syuusuke abandons the tube and blots the gloss with his thumb instead. His eyes are wide open now, blue and beguiling.
"But I'm not kissing anyone," complains Yuuta.
"You should be prepared," says Syuusuke, "for when the opportunity arises." His eyes flutter shut again, and he presses the tube into Yuuta's hand before sauntering away.
Yuuta wonders if the opportunity has arisen for Syuusuke.
__
Okaasan announces that she's going on a wilderness adventure in Hokkaido on the first day of spring break. She mentions it as an afterthought when Yuuta asks her why she's packed ten pairs of designer shoes into a suitcase.
"Yumiko will take care of the cooking, and I've left you boys a credit card," she adds breezily, half-way through the front door.
"Great," says Yuuta. He wishes he'd stayed at St Rudolph's.
"Want to play tennis today, Yuuta?" asks Syuusuke.
__
Yuuta and Syuusuke lay claim to an empty tennis court abutting a primary school that's been abandoned for the holidays. Yuuta worries that a caretaker or janitor or maybe the police will catch them, but he's not about to mention his fears to Syuusuke.
He gets out his racquet and waits for Syuusuke to take his place on the opposite side of the net. He's a little startled when, after stripping off his tracksuit pants, Syuusuke approaches him and suggests that they practice swings together first.
"I want to see how you do that shot Mizuki-kun taught you," he says, his slitted eyes cold as frozen sapphires.
Yuuta demonstrates it a few times, suffering under Syuusuke's intense scrutiny. Then Syuusuke steps closer and puts his arms around Yuuta, his hands closing over Yuuta's on the racquet handle.
"Again," says Syuusuke.
Yuuta swings and it feels different. Heavier. Wrong. Syuusuke's face is in his hair. Yuuta's brain knows he shouldn't be so aware of his brother touching him. The rest of Yuuta just knows that there's a body wrapped around him, fabric shifting between them and breath on his cheek.
Yuuta wrenches away. He doesn't look at Syuusuke as he mutters, "Are we going to play or not?"
"Of course." Yuuta hears the scuff of Syuusuke's sneakers as he walks away. "But not if you use that shot."
'That shot' is the only chance Yuuta has of beating his brother. Syuusuke knows it.
They play three games. Syuusuke wins all three. Yuuta's face is melting with sweat and his clothes feel like they've been glued to his body. By contrast Syuusuke only has a little colour in his cheeks and, aside from that, not a hair out of place. A fire of jealousy burns through Yuuta's brain.
Syuusuke sucks on a water bottle and hands it over to Yuuta. He doesn't want it, but he's also dying of thirst and he forgot to bring a drink.
There's blood on the label. Yuuta looks up in shock to see Syuusuke inspecting his hands.
"I think I broke a few calluses," he remarks. He holds up his palms to show Yuuta and smiles.
__
Afterwards they go to a fast-food outlet. Uninhibited by the meagreness of his purse or Mizuki's catty comments about the calorific content of fried meat, Yuuta orders everything he likes best. Syuusuke opted to hold a table, but refused to pick his own meal. "You choose," he said. So Yuuta buys two of everything and nearly buckles under the weight of the tray he gets back.
Syuusuke puts his cheek in his hand and plays with his food. Yuuta supposes eating under the eye of a stickler for etiquette like Okaasan every day is as bad as listening to Mizuki rant about calories when the dining hall runs out of fat-free milk.
"Aren't you hungry?" asks Yuuta, two burgers and a milkshake in. So far Syuusuke's toyed with a hotdog and opened the tab on his can of Calpis Soda.
"Starving," replies Syuusuke. His gaze locks with Yuuta's like it did when they were ten and having hour-long staring contests.
Yuuta shrugs. Syuusuke's in one of his weird moods again. Yuuta concentrates on eating his way through his carbohydrate feast, and almost chokes when Syuusuke kicks him under the table.
"What was that for?" he splutters.
Syuusuke smiles. "I like your hair."
"What?" Defensively, Yuuta runs a hand through his short brush. It's always been coarse compared to Syuusuke's, which looks like he polishes it with furniture spray.
"I wish mine was nice, like yours." Syuusuke tugs at a lock of hair, frowning. He looks sincere, but Yuuta can't take what he's saying seriously.
"You're an idiot," he informs his brother, glad for once that it's actually true.
"I guess all the girls are after you now," says Syuusuke. He looks and sounds almost wistful. Coming from someone who gets his body weight in chocolate every Valentine's Day, it's completely absurd.
"Don't be stupid," hisses Yuuta. He feels slightly sick -- he must have eaten too much, too fast. He lifts his gaze at Syuusuke's indrawn breath and notices the hurt on his brother's face in consternation.
"I mean, they're not," he adds, wondering what the hell is wrong with Syuusuke today.
"Silly them," murmurs Syuusuke, and takes a bite of his hotdog.
__
Yuuta's on his way downstairs to watch television when Syuusuke calls from his room.
"What do you want?" asks Yuuta. He feels bad about his surly voice as soon as he speaks, but not bad enough to apologise.
"I need your help to figure out something."
"Does it have to do with those stupid cactuses? If it is then no."
"It's nothing to do with cacti," says Syuusuke. The setting sun streaks through his hair like someone's dropped a pot of honey on his head. Reluctantly, Yuuta puts the manga he's carrying on Syuusuke's desk and lets Syuusuke close the door.
"You have to sit here," says Syuusuke from the bed.
Yuuta makes a face, and Syuusuke adds "Please."
Yuuta sits beside his brother on the neatly made bed. Yuuta's own bedclothes are tossed all over the place and full of crumbs. After all, there's no one around to tell him to tidy them. He can't help rolling his eyes at Syuusuke's hospital corners.
"Okay, just stay still," says Syuusuke, as if Yuuta was going to jump up and do a dance. He shifts so that his legs are brushing Yuuta's, and places his hand flat on Yuuta's knee.
"Hey, what are you doing?" protests Yuuta.
"Maybe not." Syuusuke puts his hand on Yuuta's hip instead, squeezing the bone. "And the other one ... here." His right arm sneaks up so that it's around Yuuta's neck.
"What the hell? Are you practising a wrestling move?"
"Hush for a minute and tilt your head."
Yuuta curls his lip and bends his head so far that he's practically brushing his shoulder with his ear. Syuusuke says nothing, just leans in the other way so that they're almost rubbing noses.
"That's it." Syuusuke's words puff against Yuuta's mouth. Finally, the pieces drop into place. Yuuta feels his stomach turn to ash and waits for Syuusuke to kiss him.
It doesn't happen. After another second, Syuusuke stands up and starts playing with a cactus as if Yuuta weren't even there.
Yuuta can still feel phantom lips brushing his, clear as day. "What was that?" he demands, angry that his voice trembles.
"Oh, I just wanted to figure out how you'd kiss someone." Syuusuke shrugs. "I thought that you wouldn't mind helping me out."
"But I'm your brother!"
Syuusuke very nearly scowls. "I didn't actually kiss you, did I? I only needed to see where everything went."
"Why --" A sudden thought punches Yuuta in the brain. "Why didn't you ask Yumiko, then?"
Syuusuke presses the pad of his thumb to a spike. "She's a girl, remember?"
"You -- you -- oh, fuck, that's disgusting!" Yuuta storms to the door and wrenches it open.
"Yuuta."
His voice is mild. Stomach churning, Yuuta turns back. He expects that Syuusuke will offer some explanation -- some defence of his disgusting suggestion.
"You forgot your manga." Syuusuke tosses it to him and closes the door.
__
Yuuta has always hated thunderstorms. It's just one of those things, like having grey eyes and a short temper.
He huddles under his duvet in the dark, trying not to see the sky flashing like a strobe light or hear the distant rumbles. It's difficult to keep his mind off them, especially when his radio clock flickers and dies. Storms are always twice as scary when the electricity fails.
The door creaks open. Although no thunder in the history of the world has yet managed to negotiate door handles, Yuuta is well past the stage of logic now. He screams and falls out of bed.
"Yuuta?"
"Syuusuke?"
"Why are you on the floor?"
"Why are you in my room?"
There is a whisper of fabric. "I came to see if you were all right," Syuusuke says, right into his ear. "I know you're afraid of thunder so I brought this."
Yuuta struggles upright. His efforts are hindered by the fact that he'd brought half his bedclothes with him and they are mostly tangled around his feet. "I am not afraid of thunder. I just don't like it."
"Hmm." There is a small click and a pinpoint of light hits Yuuta's face. "This is my laser torch."
"It doesn't really illuminate much, does it?" But Yuuta's fingers are already sliding the tiny torch away from his brother, cradling it to his chest like a security blanket.
Syuusuke laughs in a low hum. A second later, a flash of lightning breaks the sky.
It takes Yuuta a while for his thoughts to come back into a straight line, but when he does he realises he's snuffling into Syuusuke's neck. Syuusuke is gentling his hair and making soothing baby noises. Yes, Yuuta remembers now -- Syuusuke always used to do this when they were tiny. Syuusuke couldn't turn off the storm or beat it up for him, but he could help him pretend that it wasn't there.
But they aren't eight any more. In as dignified a manner as possible, Yuuta pries himself away from his brother and rubs his eyes on a sheet. It's a good thing the only light source they have is about three millimetres in diameter. Yuuta really wouldn't like it if Syuusuke could see his face right now.
"Hop into bed," urges Syuusuke. "I'll stay here until you fall asleep."
"You don't need to." Yuuta crawls on to the bed in spite of himself.
"I know I don't need to." Syuusuke settles the covers on top of Yuuta and pats them down. It takes him a while to smooth them to his satisfaction. Usually Yuuta would have something to say about Syuusuke's fussiness, but he's in a lather waiting for the next thunderclap and really is grateful not to be alone.
He does have something to say when Syuusuke climbs in beside him, but unfortunately a strangled 'Syuusuke!' doesn't achieve much in the way of persuading his brother to leave or, alternatively, die.
"It's okay," says Syuusuke into his hair. Yuuta can feel silk on the backs of his knees, and hot skin against through his thin sleeping shirt. What on earth is Syuusuke wearing?
"Where's the torch gone?" asks Yuuta, instead of telling Syuusuke to get lost very, very loudly.
Syuusuke's arm slides over his hip, brushing against the tiny sliver of bare skin between his t-shirt and shorts. His fingers find Yuuta's and drop the torch into them.
A stormy crescendo of wind and whipping rain rob Yuuta of the breath to protest against his brother's continued intrusion. He clutches the torch, inadvertently squeezing Syuusuke's fingers along the way. Syuusuke doesn't say a word. He's so still that Yuuta thinks he might have fallen asleep.
Just when Yuuta's eyes are fluttering closed, Syuusuke murmurs into his ear. "I love you, Yuu-chan."
The press of his cheek reminds Yuuta of the way they used to sleep as kids, curled up in one bed like two kittens. "Yeah, aniki," he slurs, almost asleep. "Me too."
__
Yuuta dreams.
He dreams of a tongue dragging along his lower lip, leaving behind the taste of wet cherries. He dreams of kisses that aren't just on his mouth, but on his throat and arms and chest. He dreams of long, slow licks, down there between his legs. He dreams of bumps of teeth, cool as pearls against his aching flesh. He dreams of fucking someone's mouth.
He also dreams of nine-foot tall mutant badgers with machine-guns.
__
When he wakes he's alone in his bed. Syuusuke is gone, as is the flashlight.
A note on the kitchen table reads: Have gone to practice with other Seigaku Regulars. Yumiko left breakfast. Okaasan rang to say she's coming back this afternoon. S.
It's Sunday. Classes start again tomorrow morning; Yuuta had been vaguely planning on catching an early bus the next day. Considering it, he decides he might as well leave this afternoon. He only took home one rucksack, so it's not like there's a lot of re-packing he needs to do.
And Mizuki will be glad to see him. He didn't ring Yuuta's house like he'd said he would, even though Syuusuke took a couple of phone messages for him from other members of the team. They all know better than to try Yuuta's mobile -- if it's not broken, it's about to be. Yuuta's careless like that.
Yuuta was a bit hurt by Mizuki's forgetfulness, but he's sure that there's a good explanation for it.
He's putting on his shoes when he remembers the note. After a minute, he tears a page out of his notebook and scribbles: Got early bus back to St. R's. Say hi to Okaasan for me. Y.
He puts Syuusuke's note in the pocket of his jacket and sets off, whistling.
end
+++
Fuji/Yuuta, R
Konomi's, not mine
a/n: I think I get roasted in the hellfire for this. Someone remind me to take marshmallows with me when I die.
Most little girls like to play dress-up, and Fuji Yumiko was no exception. Most members of the Fuji family did things at an acute angle to the rest of the world, and Fuji Yumiko was no exception in that either.
Even as a five year old, Yuuta had protested loudly and vociferously at being Yumiko's real-live doll. He kicked and spat and hid under the stairs when she got out her old dresses and the makeup stubs Okaasan allowed her to play with.
Syuusuke, on the other hand, meekly submitted to Yumiko's demands. With his big shiny eyes and soft shiny hair, Syuusuke was a pretty little boy anyway. He was the polar opposite of Yuuta, whose grandmother called him a grub in human form.
When Syuusuke was wearing a pink dress with a white collar, and had his mouth smeared with cherry lipstick and his cheeks inexpertly rouged, he really did look like a girl. There was no way that Yumiko was getting Yuuta to look like that.
"There," she cooed, holding up a mirror to Syuusuke's face. "Don't you look cute, Syuu-chan?"
Yuuta, who was hiding behind her bedroom door, scowled. Syuusuke didn't look cute, he looked insane. Apart from anything else, Yumiko's style of makeup application was slapdash at best.
"Hmm," said Syuusuke. He took the mirror in his hands and peered down at it.
"You look stupid!" yelled Yuuta, unable to help himself despite the yellow dress that was sitting on the bed, all ready and waiting for him.
Yumiko got her revenge. She didn't try to coerce Yuuta into dressing up -- but she did force him to marry Syuusuke. They both had to put their hands on the statue of the fat man and swear that they'd be married forever and ever. Then Yumiko told Syuusuke to kiss his husband and he did, putting both arms around Yuuta's neck and getting globs of lipstick all over his chin.
Yuuta still worries that those vows were binding.
__
Yuuta's least favourite subject is history. He doesn't like remembering the past. It doesn't help that the history teacher in St Rudolph's is less than gifted in the oratory department. His droning, nasal whine is enough to lull Yuuta into constant boredom but still too annoying to let him drift off completely.
They're doing a unit on the ancient world. Today the topic is the Egyptians. Yuuta idly draws a picture of Yanagisawa, who has fallen asleep against the window with his thumb in his mouth.
"The Egyptian royalty married brother to sister," drawls the sensei. Heat rushes to Yuuta's cheeks. He doesn't know why he feels guilty -- he must appear to be one of the liveliest people in the class, given that he's writing and everything. "This was to keep the blood pure."
The sensei catches his eye. Yuuta flushes harder and begins to scribble random characters industriously. The sensei shifts topic to how the Egyptians removed the brains of their dead by sticking spoons up their noses, and Yuuta's off the hook.
He looks down at his notebook, yawning. The kanji swim before his eyes.
His seemingly arbitrary notation reassembles itself into the word Syuusuke.
__
Yuuta prefers to stay in St Rudolph's at weekends. Regardless of what people might think, this is more because he doesn't want to break his training schedule than because he wants to avoid his family. He loves his parents and his sister, and even Syuusuke -- although he'd never admit that aloud. He just wishes they were a bit more normal. He'd like it if Yumiko would go out with ordinary, decent guys rather than cokeheads who play in bands. He'd prefer that his father wouldn't tell them so much about the half-brother they have in America. It would be nice if his mother wouldn't wear Yumiko's clothes and high heels in public so that no one thinks he has two sisters.
As for Syuusuke, if he were less of a genius at tennis that would make Yuuta's life considerably easier. But unlike the rest of the family's predilections, Syuusuke's talent isn't something he can help.
Not that Yuuta would admit that, either.
On the last weekend before his father's two-month business trip to Kentucky, Okaasan phones Yuuta's dormitory and tells him pleasantly that she's sure he'll be around to bid his father farewell. When Yuuta suggests that he isn't quite so certain of the fact, Okaasan sighs and murmurs that she's been so busy with preparations, she clean forgot to transfer his allowance into his bank account.
Yuuta caves.
When he arrives he has to open the door with his key. Theirs is not so much a family home as a rest stop on the way to somewhere else. Yumiko will be in some smoke-filled green room with her latest bass guitarist. Okaasan might be on a date or at a night class. Tousan is either in the office or in a hot springs, as he seems unable to tell the difference between the two.
Syuusuke is probably at home, but he doesn't do things like answer the door to people who have keys.
As usual, the fridge is empty. Most day-old food is sacrificed to the need to keep Yumiko and Okaasan on their strict diets, which change every second week. Yuuta finds a packet of weird American 'rice-cakes' in the cupboard. They taste like cardboard, not rice, but Yuuta had to skip supper to catch the bus here and he's hungry enough not to care.
He finds Syuusuke in the bathroom, applying lip-gloss.
A lot of boys Yuuta knows have started to wear makeup. It's a fashion statement, like rolled-down Converse or neck chains with dog tags on them. Mizuki puts on lip-gloss and spot concealer and mascara every day, and while the effect is pretty good it seems like far too much effort to Yuuta. Even Yanagisawa covers his lips with moisturising balm before matches. He says the wind chaps them.
Syuusuke sees Yuuta in the mirror and opens his eyes halfway. "I didn't know you were coming home."
"Yeah, well. Okaasan threatened to cut my allowance if I didn't." Yuuta winces. It's not quite true. Despite the fact that the gym is getting in new dumbbells tomorrow, Yuuta still would have come home to see his father even without his mother's prodding. It's just that Syuusuke always seems to make him say the nastier version of every truth.
"Ah." Syuusuke rolls the nub of the lip-gloss across his mouth, from corner to corner. The motion comes easily to him, but because he's Syuusuke that doesn't mean he's done it before.
Yuuta stays watching until Syuusuke presses his lips together and turns away from the sink. "Would you like some, Yuuta?"
Yuuta shrugs, half-fascinated, half-wary. He'd quite like to know what it feels like. There are lots of things that fall under that category, but Yuuta's not sure that finding out would always be a good idea.
"What would I need it for?" he asks, seconds before Syuusuke pinches his chin between two long fingers.
Syuusuke smiles as he squeezes the little tube. Gel spurts out, wet and cold against Yuuta's lip.
"It makes your lips softer, and that feels nice when someone kisses them." Syuusuke abandons the tube and blots the gloss with his thumb instead. His eyes are wide open now, blue and beguiling.
"But I'm not kissing anyone," complains Yuuta.
"You should be prepared," says Syuusuke, "for when the opportunity arises." His eyes flutter shut again, and he presses the tube into Yuuta's hand before sauntering away.
Yuuta wonders if the opportunity has arisen for Syuusuke.
__
Okaasan announces that she's going on a wilderness adventure in Hokkaido on the first day of spring break. She mentions it as an afterthought when Yuuta asks her why she's packed ten pairs of designer shoes into a suitcase.
"Yumiko will take care of the cooking, and I've left you boys a credit card," she adds breezily, half-way through the front door.
"Great," says Yuuta. He wishes he'd stayed at St Rudolph's.
"Want to play tennis today, Yuuta?" asks Syuusuke.
__
Yuuta and Syuusuke lay claim to an empty tennis court abutting a primary school that's been abandoned for the holidays. Yuuta worries that a caretaker or janitor or maybe the police will catch them, but he's not about to mention his fears to Syuusuke.
He gets out his racquet and waits for Syuusuke to take his place on the opposite side of the net. He's a little startled when, after stripping off his tracksuit pants, Syuusuke approaches him and suggests that they practice swings together first.
"I want to see how you do that shot Mizuki-kun taught you," he says, his slitted eyes cold as frozen sapphires.
Yuuta demonstrates it a few times, suffering under Syuusuke's intense scrutiny. Then Syuusuke steps closer and puts his arms around Yuuta, his hands closing over Yuuta's on the racquet handle.
"Again," says Syuusuke.
Yuuta swings and it feels different. Heavier. Wrong. Syuusuke's face is in his hair. Yuuta's brain knows he shouldn't be so aware of his brother touching him. The rest of Yuuta just knows that there's a body wrapped around him, fabric shifting between them and breath on his cheek.
Yuuta wrenches away. He doesn't look at Syuusuke as he mutters, "Are we going to play or not?"
"Of course." Yuuta hears the scuff of Syuusuke's sneakers as he walks away. "But not if you use that shot."
'That shot' is the only chance Yuuta has of beating his brother. Syuusuke knows it.
They play three games. Syuusuke wins all three. Yuuta's face is melting with sweat and his clothes feel like they've been glued to his body. By contrast Syuusuke only has a little colour in his cheeks and, aside from that, not a hair out of place. A fire of jealousy burns through Yuuta's brain.
Syuusuke sucks on a water bottle and hands it over to Yuuta. He doesn't want it, but he's also dying of thirst and he forgot to bring a drink.
There's blood on the label. Yuuta looks up in shock to see Syuusuke inspecting his hands.
"I think I broke a few calluses," he remarks. He holds up his palms to show Yuuta and smiles.
__
Afterwards they go to a fast-food outlet. Uninhibited by the meagreness of his purse or Mizuki's catty comments about the calorific content of fried meat, Yuuta orders everything he likes best. Syuusuke opted to hold a table, but refused to pick his own meal. "You choose," he said. So Yuuta buys two of everything and nearly buckles under the weight of the tray he gets back.
Syuusuke puts his cheek in his hand and plays with his food. Yuuta supposes eating under the eye of a stickler for etiquette like Okaasan every day is as bad as listening to Mizuki rant about calories when the dining hall runs out of fat-free milk.
"Aren't you hungry?" asks Yuuta, two burgers and a milkshake in. So far Syuusuke's toyed with a hotdog and opened the tab on his can of Calpis Soda.
"Starving," replies Syuusuke. His gaze locks with Yuuta's like it did when they were ten and having hour-long staring contests.
Yuuta shrugs. Syuusuke's in one of his weird moods again. Yuuta concentrates on eating his way through his carbohydrate feast, and almost chokes when Syuusuke kicks him under the table.
"What was that for?" he splutters.
Syuusuke smiles. "I like your hair."
"What?" Defensively, Yuuta runs a hand through his short brush. It's always been coarse compared to Syuusuke's, which looks like he polishes it with furniture spray.
"I wish mine was nice, like yours." Syuusuke tugs at a lock of hair, frowning. He looks sincere, but Yuuta can't take what he's saying seriously.
"You're an idiot," he informs his brother, glad for once that it's actually true.
"I guess all the girls are after you now," says Syuusuke. He looks and sounds almost wistful. Coming from someone who gets his body weight in chocolate every Valentine's Day, it's completely absurd.
"Don't be stupid," hisses Yuuta. He feels slightly sick -- he must have eaten too much, too fast. He lifts his gaze at Syuusuke's indrawn breath and notices the hurt on his brother's face in consternation.
"I mean, they're not," he adds, wondering what the hell is wrong with Syuusuke today.
"Silly them," murmurs Syuusuke, and takes a bite of his hotdog.
__
Yuuta's on his way downstairs to watch television when Syuusuke calls from his room.
"What do you want?" asks Yuuta. He feels bad about his surly voice as soon as he speaks, but not bad enough to apologise.
"I need your help to figure out something."
"Does it have to do with those stupid cactuses? If it is then no."
"It's nothing to do with cacti," says Syuusuke. The setting sun streaks through his hair like someone's dropped a pot of honey on his head. Reluctantly, Yuuta puts the manga he's carrying on Syuusuke's desk and lets Syuusuke close the door.
"You have to sit here," says Syuusuke from the bed.
Yuuta makes a face, and Syuusuke adds "Please."
Yuuta sits beside his brother on the neatly made bed. Yuuta's own bedclothes are tossed all over the place and full of crumbs. After all, there's no one around to tell him to tidy them. He can't help rolling his eyes at Syuusuke's hospital corners.
"Okay, just stay still," says Syuusuke, as if Yuuta was going to jump up and do a dance. He shifts so that his legs are brushing Yuuta's, and places his hand flat on Yuuta's knee.
"Hey, what are you doing?" protests Yuuta.
"Maybe not." Syuusuke puts his hand on Yuuta's hip instead, squeezing the bone. "And the other one ... here." His right arm sneaks up so that it's around Yuuta's neck.
"What the hell? Are you practising a wrestling move?"
"Hush for a minute and tilt your head."
Yuuta curls his lip and bends his head so far that he's practically brushing his shoulder with his ear. Syuusuke says nothing, just leans in the other way so that they're almost rubbing noses.
"That's it." Syuusuke's words puff against Yuuta's mouth. Finally, the pieces drop into place. Yuuta feels his stomach turn to ash and waits for Syuusuke to kiss him.
It doesn't happen. After another second, Syuusuke stands up and starts playing with a cactus as if Yuuta weren't even there.
Yuuta can still feel phantom lips brushing his, clear as day. "What was that?" he demands, angry that his voice trembles.
"Oh, I just wanted to figure out how you'd kiss someone." Syuusuke shrugs. "I thought that you wouldn't mind helping me out."
"But I'm your brother!"
Syuusuke very nearly scowls. "I didn't actually kiss you, did I? I only needed to see where everything went."
"Why --" A sudden thought punches Yuuta in the brain. "Why didn't you ask Yumiko, then?"
Syuusuke presses the pad of his thumb to a spike. "She's a girl, remember?"
"You -- you -- oh, fuck, that's disgusting!" Yuuta storms to the door and wrenches it open.
"Yuuta."
His voice is mild. Stomach churning, Yuuta turns back. He expects that Syuusuke will offer some explanation -- some defence of his disgusting suggestion.
"You forgot your manga." Syuusuke tosses it to him and closes the door.
__
Yuuta has always hated thunderstorms. It's just one of those things, like having grey eyes and a short temper.
He huddles under his duvet in the dark, trying not to see the sky flashing like a strobe light or hear the distant rumbles. It's difficult to keep his mind off them, especially when his radio clock flickers and dies. Storms are always twice as scary when the electricity fails.
The door creaks open. Although no thunder in the history of the world has yet managed to negotiate door handles, Yuuta is well past the stage of logic now. He screams and falls out of bed.
"Yuuta?"
"Syuusuke?"
"Why are you on the floor?"
"Why are you in my room?"
There is a whisper of fabric. "I came to see if you were all right," Syuusuke says, right into his ear. "I know you're afraid of thunder so I brought this."
Yuuta struggles upright. His efforts are hindered by the fact that he'd brought half his bedclothes with him and they are mostly tangled around his feet. "I am not afraid of thunder. I just don't like it."
"Hmm." There is a small click and a pinpoint of light hits Yuuta's face. "This is my laser torch."
"It doesn't really illuminate much, does it?" But Yuuta's fingers are already sliding the tiny torch away from his brother, cradling it to his chest like a security blanket.
Syuusuke laughs in a low hum. A second later, a flash of lightning breaks the sky.
It takes Yuuta a while for his thoughts to come back into a straight line, but when he does he realises he's snuffling into Syuusuke's neck. Syuusuke is gentling his hair and making soothing baby noises. Yes, Yuuta remembers now -- Syuusuke always used to do this when they were tiny. Syuusuke couldn't turn off the storm or beat it up for him, but he could help him pretend that it wasn't there.
But they aren't eight any more. In as dignified a manner as possible, Yuuta pries himself away from his brother and rubs his eyes on a sheet. It's a good thing the only light source they have is about three millimetres in diameter. Yuuta really wouldn't like it if Syuusuke could see his face right now.
"Hop into bed," urges Syuusuke. "I'll stay here until you fall asleep."
"You don't need to." Yuuta crawls on to the bed in spite of himself.
"I know I don't need to." Syuusuke settles the covers on top of Yuuta and pats them down. It takes him a while to smooth them to his satisfaction. Usually Yuuta would have something to say about Syuusuke's fussiness, but he's in a lather waiting for the next thunderclap and really is grateful not to be alone.
He does have something to say when Syuusuke climbs in beside him, but unfortunately a strangled 'Syuusuke!' doesn't achieve much in the way of persuading his brother to leave or, alternatively, die.
"It's okay," says Syuusuke into his hair. Yuuta can feel silk on the backs of his knees, and hot skin against through his thin sleeping shirt. What on earth is Syuusuke wearing?
"Where's the torch gone?" asks Yuuta, instead of telling Syuusuke to get lost very, very loudly.
Syuusuke's arm slides over his hip, brushing against the tiny sliver of bare skin between his t-shirt and shorts. His fingers find Yuuta's and drop the torch into them.
A stormy crescendo of wind and whipping rain rob Yuuta of the breath to protest against his brother's continued intrusion. He clutches the torch, inadvertently squeezing Syuusuke's fingers along the way. Syuusuke doesn't say a word. He's so still that Yuuta thinks he might have fallen asleep.
Just when Yuuta's eyes are fluttering closed, Syuusuke murmurs into his ear. "I love you, Yuu-chan."
The press of his cheek reminds Yuuta of the way they used to sleep as kids, curled up in one bed like two kittens. "Yeah, aniki," he slurs, almost asleep. "Me too."
__
Yuuta dreams.
He dreams of a tongue dragging along his lower lip, leaving behind the taste of wet cherries. He dreams of kisses that aren't just on his mouth, but on his throat and arms and chest. He dreams of long, slow licks, down there between his legs. He dreams of bumps of teeth, cool as pearls against his aching flesh. He dreams of fucking someone's mouth.
He also dreams of nine-foot tall mutant badgers with machine-guns.
__
When he wakes he's alone in his bed. Syuusuke is gone, as is the flashlight.
A note on the kitchen table reads: Have gone to practice with other Seigaku Regulars. Yumiko left breakfast. Okaasan rang to say she's coming back this afternoon. S.
It's Sunday. Classes start again tomorrow morning; Yuuta had been vaguely planning on catching an early bus the next day. Considering it, he decides he might as well leave this afternoon. He only took home one rucksack, so it's not like there's a lot of re-packing he needs to do.
And Mizuki will be glad to see him. He didn't ring Yuuta's house like he'd said he would, even though Syuusuke took a couple of phone messages for him from other members of the team. They all know better than to try Yuuta's mobile -- if it's not broken, it's about to be. Yuuta's careless like that.
Yuuta was a bit hurt by Mizuki's forgetfulness, but he's sure that there's a good explanation for it.
He's putting on his shoes when he remembers the note. After a minute, he tears a page out of his notebook and scribbles: Got early bus back to St. R's. Say hi to Okaasan for me. Y.
He puts Syuusuke's note in the pocket of his jacket and sets off, whistling.
end
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