Fic: Mission 3.14% Possible [Inui/Mizuki; NC-17]
Title: Mission (3.14%) Possible
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Inui/Mizuki
Warnings: Costumes, espionage and teenage sexual experimentation.
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.
Author's Notes: Written for alice_and_lain for santa_smex 2006!
It was becoming increasingly irritating.
Inui inched up as much as he could and secured his digital camera back into his shoulder bag. As quietly as he could, he replaced the metal grating over the opening he'd created. Just as he heard the cover slide into place, a head of dark, curled hair peeked from around the bend in the air vent, heralding the arrival of one Mizuki Hajime, somehow managing to crawl elegantly through the cramped tunnel, pert little butt brushing the vent's ceiling.
"Nfu nfu nfu, what a coincidence," Mizuki drawled softly. "We meet yet again, Inui-kun."
Inui wished he could adjust his glasses, but considering the ratios of his shoulder to elbow and elbow to wrist, the task would prove more hindersome than helpful. "And once again, you are several minutes too late. I've already secured the Hyoutei data." Inui allowed himself a smug grin. "Despite my insistence that your independent research is unnecessary, you appear to resist the facts presented to you."
Mizuki's confidence refused to waver. "Oh my dear Inui-kun, it's almost laughable. Surely you don't mean to be satisfied with mere training schedules and rank? I'd thought more of you."
Inui's lips tightened. Ever since Mizuki transferred to Seishun Gakuen for their freshman year of high school, he'd been dogging Inui on all his missions. Neither of them had made the regulars, and Inui fully intended to act as the team manager as he'd done in the past. Unfortunately, Mizuki seemed to have the same idea. It was infuriating. There was no need for a second data master on the Seigaku team. Oishi had assured him of this countless times. And yet, Mizuki refused to alter his style, refused to cease being a constant error in Inui's meticulous data collection. It was infuriating. No - Inui controlled his breathing until his heartbeat slowed to an acceptable rate. Emotion would taint his objectivity.
"What did you have in mind, Mizuki-kun?" Inui was pleased with the level pleasantness in his voice.
Mizuki winked. "You'll see that research can be infinitely more fruitful when the material is a touch more ... vivacious."
Inui raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"
% % %
It had been awkward crawling backwards in the vent, face to face with Mizuki. Inui could feel sweat collecting at the small hairs along his neck and ears. His glasses were also fogging up slightly, though there was only a small chance that Mizuki would realize that. At least there was a very small percentage of Inui passing gas. He'd maintained his diet impeccably. Luckily, several meters back, there was a crossroads with the fourth quadrant air vent.
Inui reversed into it and realigned himself. However, presenting his backside to Mizuki's sharp eyes felt even worse. Mizuki's silence didn't exactly add comfort to the atmosphere. He wondered if Mizuki noticed that his left buttocks needed to be exercised 12% more in order to be perfectly symmetrical. More worryingly, he wondered if those would be the sorts of thoughts he’d be having had their situations been reversed.
Fortunately, they reached their destination without incident: the Hyoutei showers.
Inui had heard rumors of course: decadent marble sculptures, Olympic sized mineral baths steamed to perfection, semi-nude servants lingering in the shadows, ready to deliver warmed towels, drinks or massages at the slightest whim of the regulars. What he hadn't accounted for was the sight of it.
Atobe was, naturally, in the direct center of Inui's line of vision. His head emerged from the water, and like a Baywatch babe, he slicked his dripping hair back slowly from his face with his hands, massaging his scalp sensually as he exhaled. Gakuto was graphically doing back flips as a smirking, flush-faced Oshitari watched from the sidelines, water trickling down his chest. Jiroh drifted by, floating on his back, and most likely dozing. At a smaller Jacuzzi, Ohtori was splashing a distinctly disgruntled Shishido. Hiyoshi was lying on his stomach on a cot as Kabaji expertly worked his back with his large hands, easing the knots of stress out with mechanical expertise.
It wasn't quite a surprise that Inui was aroused by the site of Hyoutei's finest frolicking around in a wet and wild display of lean, tanned muscle. Sometimes, Inui was aroused by stranger things: certain vegetable ingredients for his juices, Ryuuzaki-sensei in a bathing suit, a fast food commercial. However, all of those happened at times when he was alone, or at least occurred inconspicuously. This time, he was hyper-aware of Mizuki, just a leg's length away from his crotch. Would he be able to smell Inui's arousal?
"I can't see," Mizuki pouted, and without warning, he wiggled up along side Inui until the curls of his hair were brushing Inui's chin, nestling his body in like a spoon into a stack. Oh My, Inui thought dumbly.
He scooted his butt as far back as he could, willing Mizuki to not press against it like that - his mind screamed as Mizuki took the extra space as an invitation to grind back.
"Much more interesting, isn't it?" Mizuki purred, and his voice told Inui that he knew exactly what was hidden in Inui's 'pocket'.
"How -" Inui's voice started out embarrassingly scratchy. "How exactly is this relevant to tennis?"
Mizuki's chuckle vibrated against Inui's chest, and he shifted his hips deliberately until Inui hissed. "Spying, Inui-kun, has little to do with tennis."
This had to be a dream. Inui was used to dreams like this. Well, dreams with boys, but usually, he wasn't so nervous in those. Usually, he was in control, which was very much what he wasn't having as Mizuki twisted around until they were face to face.
The percentage of this occurring was less than 1%. It was confusing and unexpected, and Inui was not sure what the best choice was anymore.
"Don't you think the fact that we keep running into each other means something, Inui-kun?" Inui couldn't tell whether Mizuki was serious or not. "What do you think it means?"
Mizuki wasn't looking at Inui's glasses, but at his lips. Inui suddenly was thinking about kissing, and what that would be like, exactly, would he tilt his head to the left or the right, how they would keep their noses from squashing, what it might taste like. Specifically: what kissing Mizuki would be like. More specifically: what kissing Mizuki right now would be like.
"I'm not quite sure yet." Inui's voice was so quiet that he wondered if Mizuki could only feel it and not hear it.
He tilted his head down, unsure, but it didn't matter because Mizuki met him half way. It was rougher than Inui imagined it would be (soft, gentle, holding a blushing boy's hand), and when Mizuki's teeth nibbled at his lips, he parted them in surprise.
He hadn't expected tongue kissing, because, well, a tongue was the most flexible of the muscles, and had all sorts of different trajectories that Inui couldn't be sure how to predict where it would go.
That, Inui learned very quickly, was not a bad thing, and eventually, he'd wormed against and past Mizuki's tongue into his mouth. Mizuki tasted a bit like strawberries and spit, which was suddenly the best thing flavor of all. They kept breathing hard against each others' cheeks through their noses, which was a bit uncomfortable, but Inui didn't have much time to think about it as Mizuki started moving his body with little thought for modesty.
Clearly, Inui wasn't the only one with a surprise in his pocket.
The feel of their erections sliding against each other, even through their pants, shot through Inui so hard that he tore his mouth from the kiss to grunt. Panting on Mizuki's neck, there was little else he could do as he shifted to bring them as close as possible.
The friction was going to make this absurdly quick, Inui realized with a distant sort of horror. Preceding the horror was the fact that his own pants could feel so much better than his right hand. Preceding that - he had just experienced his first kiss and now he was going to come.
"I think we should be partners," Mizuki hissed as Inui squeezed a hand into the tight space between them.
Inui froze.
"In spying," Mizuki continued, and Inui breathed a sigh of enormous relief. He was only fifteen, after all.
"Um," Inui said, cupping Mizuki's cock through his pants, hoping that would change the topic a bit.
It didn't. However, the Hyoutei sound system suddenly blaring to life did. "Red Alert! Suspected terrorists have infiltrated Hyoutei Gakuen and have poisoned a professor. This is not a drill!"
Inui's hand retreated from Mizuki's pants to ruffle through his bag. Juice #384 was missing.
"Uh oh."
% % %
Inui had always been a solitary worker. He disliked group projects because, inevitably, no one else could do it as well as he could. Other people were inconstant. Only Inui himself could be relied upon. He'd known that for a long time.
This was why he couldn't even consider Mizuki's offer. An equal partnership? Impossible. What if Mizuki missed an important aspect of the information? What if Inui handed over a task to him and circumstances caused Mizuki to be unable to complete it? It was a ridiculous idea.
Kind of like kissing.
It had been awkward in the Post-Kissing days with Mizuki. After the disaster that the Hyoutei mission turned out to be (they'd gotten away, but were highly … unsatisfied in other ways), Inui wasn't sure how to act. Were they boyfriends now? Did they have to hold hands? Did that even really happen?
Well, he wasn't really doubting the last question. Mizuki had a certain way of reminding Inui - for example, when they were picking up balls for the regulars, Mizuki always moved in front of Inui so that his rear was prominently displayed as he bent down. Even more obvious were the notes written in invisible ink that Inui kept finding in his pockets. It made Inui hot in the face to find them, and hot in other places too.
However, the point was that they couldn't be partners.
Except. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.
In invisible ink, Inui wrote one word: Okay. He wondered how long it would take Mizuki to find it in his pocket.
(It didn't take long.)
% % %
"Rikkai Dai." Mizuki said the name like it meant nothing. "We don't have the pertinent data on them this year."
Inui tapped his pen on his notebook, swiveling slightly in his computer chair. "We won't meet them for at least another month. It'd be smarter to wait for information to trickle down to us."
Mizuki let out a dramatic sigh and stretched out over Inui's bed. Inui tried not to pay too much attention to the stripe of stomach revealed by the action. "That's the boring thing to do, yes, but it would be much more impressive to discover their lineup now. You aren't scared, are you, Inui-kun, just because they have a data master too? Surely the odds are with us."
Inui frowned, and chose to not answer that particular question.
"They are having a party to celebrate the selection of their captain this Saturday," Mizuki said, a bit apologetically. "It'd be a perfect opportunity to infiltrate and find out exactly what the team dynamics will be like this year. It's the key to discovering their weaknesses."
"Hmmm. It's risky. Do you propose to just stroll in and hope we blend in? I've know Yanagi Renji since I was a child. I'm quite sure I'd be recognized."
"Nfu nfu nfu." Mizuki rubbed his hands together gleefully. "We'll go in disguise."
Inui's eyebrows furrowed. "Well, I do have an extra black cap …"
"Oh no no no, Inui-kun." Mizuki had never looked scarier to Inui as he did in that moment. It was very sexy. "I am in charge of our wardrobe."
% % %
At least it wasn't floral.
Inui may not have much knowledge of modern day fashion, but he was quite sure that one did not normally dress in fishnets. The jeans looked like they were about to fall apart they were so faded and ripped. And he wasn't even going to start on the usage of makeup (it was a touchy subject between the two of them).
His hair was doing an awful impression of Fudominine's Kamio: draped over one eye and strangely flat. It made Inui's head look a lot smaller.
Lastly, Mizuki pressed contacts and a pair of sunglasses into Inui's hands. "You can use the bathroom to put them on," he said after Inui stood blankly in front of Mizuki's vanity desk.
When he emerged from the bathroom, he was nearly blinded by all the white and glitter adorning Mizuki. He was in a strange matching vest and trouser set that had sparkly roses adorning the fabric.
Inui was not sure why he was finding something so hideous cute.
"Aa," he said cautiously. "What are we supposed to be disguised as, exactly?"
Mizuki rolled his eyes, and put a hand on his hip. "Artists from Rikkai's Fine Arts program, obviously."
Inui thought that ninjas would have been cooler.
% % %
Crazily enough, they weren't identified by anyone at the party as not being Rikkai Dai students. Inui sulked in the back with the snacks (and Jackal), horribly uncomfortable, but Mizuki insisted it added to the character he was playing - an adolescent tortured soul. (Do slouch more, Inui-kun.) Mizuki was of course the fair and brilliant prince. Inui could tell he liked the role as he flounced around like a butterfly.
Perhaps a bit too much. True, they had agreed that mingling with the crowd was likely to yield valuable information. They hadn't agreed to gratuitous flirting with Yanagi Renji of all people. Worse than Mizuki's false titters rising in the air was the look of keen interest Renji was exhibiting.
"And I told her, darling, you wouldn't know art if it was munching on your derrière!"
Renji rested a hand on Mizuki's shoulder as he laughed.
Inui's eyebrow twitched, and he pushed his sunglasses up. He breathed. Counted to ten. Twenty. Googleplex.
Instead he marched over to Mizuki and grabbed him by the arm, tightly. "Can I see you for a moment, darling?"
% % %
Inui locked the bathroom door behind them. He didn't bother kissing Mizuki as he pushed him up against the wall. That wasn't what he wanted right now. What he wanted was to get down on his knees and tug those stupid white pants down. What he wanted was Mizuki thinking about Inui and Inui alone. His hands didn't fumble at all on the zippers.
"Commando?" he grunted, and Mizuki's cock bobbed slightly as through it knew it was being talked about.
"Don't -" Mizuki gasped, "-want to have VPL."
It was then that Inui took hold of Mizuki's dick. It was hot against his palm, and fully hard. As he watched it, wet drops of precome gathered at the slit, drooling slightly down to the floor. "You like it when they look at your ass, do you?" He licked the precome all off. "Slut."
It tasted bitter, but sweet in a way that had nothing to do with taste at all.
"Inui-kun, I -"
Inui pinned Mizuki firmly to the wall with his hands, knocking the argument out of him, and killing it when he sucked the tip of Mizuki's cock into his mouth.
"We -" Mizuki bit down on his hand, muffling his cry just slightly. "We're going to miss the announcement -"
Inui slid his mouth back until it popped softly off of the head of Mizuki's cock. He looked up, and Mizuki could see the dark glint of his eyes over the lenses. Inui didn't just stare - he studied, memorized, knew. He knew exactly how the alternate puffs of cold and hot breaths of air felt against Mizuki's shining erection.
But his voice betrayed his calm - it growled out throaty and deep and just a bit playful. "I received the information earlier today. Yukimura took the captainship."
The muscles in Mizuki's tight stomach kept tightening at uneven intervals. Inui liked the way it felt under his thumbs. "Oh -" He bucked his hips, his dick leaving a wet trail against Inui's cheek as it slid forward, and let out a whimper that should have been amusing, but came out so sexy that Inui worried he'd come in his pants. "Please, Jesus-fucking-Christ, Please."
Inui chuckled darkly, his sunglasses managing to glint somehow. "Aren't you interested in the line-up?"
Whatever Mizuki's original answer might have been would never be known as Inui, tired of testing and testing what made Mizuki writhe - what made him lose that smug composure - swallowed as much of Mizuki's cock as he could, sucking almost too tightly, just the way he wanted to.
There - Mizuki threw his head back against the tile with a crack that Inui hoped would leave bruises, and screamed.
These were things Inui could have been thinking:
1. Interestingly, the act was both more and less difficult than a banana.
a. The taste being the most obvious difference. Inui preferred bananas (though he pondered the merit of semen in a Mega-Hyper-Giga-Remix).
b. The texture of a penis was much firmer, much more resistant to becoming soggy with large amounts of saliva, though it did feel rich and full as it slid against the insides of Inui's mouth.
2. Mizuki had a really dirty mouth for someone with a strict Catholic upbringing (perhaps Inui should look more into Catholicism) as expletives ripped their way out of the lips he was so desperately trying to keep closed.
a. Was that even physically possible?
3. Yes, yes, yes - a thousand times yes.
Instead, Inui tightened his grip on Mizuki's hips, steadying the erratic thrust to a tortuously slow rhythm, swapping his mouth for a teasing tongue circling the crown of Mizuki's cock. "What was that, Mizuki?"
Dark lashes fluttered; Mizuki looked like a porcelain doll on the verge of breaking. His legs were trembling against Inui's chest - his lips were shining with built up spit. "Inui - Inui - Inui -"
Inui slid his hands around to Mizuki's ass, long fingers just brushing the line of his crack as he pulled him as far into his mouth as he could. Mizuki arched back, clumsy and sweaty and unbearably hot, and came down Inui's throat so hard he thought he might die.
When he opened his eyes, he realized that Inui must have pulled back when his spunk shot out. There were strands drizzled over his cheeks, on his glasses. Crouching down, he leaned in until his lips brushed Inui's ear. "It was never about the data."
Mizuki leaned back until he could see the look on Inui's face. Smirking, he nimbly tugged Inui's sunglasses off, and after a thoughtful pause, brought them to his mouth and licked lightly at the lenses. "It was about partnership."
Inui blinked.
It was.
Rating: NC-17
Pairing(s): Inui/Mizuki
Warnings: Costumes, espionage and teenage sexual experimentation.
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.
Author's Notes: Written for alice_and_lain for santa_smex 2006!
It was becoming increasingly irritating.
Inui inched up as much as he could and secured his digital camera back into his shoulder bag. As quietly as he could, he replaced the metal grating over the opening he'd created. Just as he heard the cover slide into place, a head of dark, curled hair peeked from around the bend in the air vent, heralding the arrival of one Mizuki Hajime, somehow managing to crawl elegantly through the cramped tunnel, pert little butt brushing the vent's ceiling.
"Nfu nfu nfu, what a coincidence," Mizuki drawled softly. "We meet yet again, Inui-kun."
Inui wished he could adjust his glasses, but considering the ratios of his shoulder to elbow and elbow to wrist, the task would prove more hindersome than helpful. "And once again, you are several minutes too late. I've already secured the Hyoutei data." Inui allowed himself a smug grin. "Despite my insistence that your independent research is unnecessary, you appear to resist the facts presented to you."
Mizuki's confidence refused to waver. "Oh my dear Inui-kun, it's almost laughable. Surely you don't mean to be satisfied with mere training schedules and rank? I'd thought more of you."
Inui's lips tightened. Ever since Mizuki transferred to Seishun Gakuen for their freshman year of high school, he'd been dogging Inui on all his missions. Neither of them had made the regulars, and Inui fully intended to act as the team manager as he'd done in the past. Unfortunately, Mizuki seemed to have the same idea. It was infuriating. There was no need for a second data master on the Seigaku team. Oishi had assured him of this countless times. And yet, Mizuki refused to alter his style, refused to cease being a constant error in Inui's meticulous data collection. It was infuriating. No - Inui controlled his breathing until his heartbeat slowed to an acceptable rate. Emotion would taint his objectivity.
"What did you have in mind, Mizuki-kun?" Inui was pleased with the level pleasantness in his voice.
Mizuki winked. "You'll see that research can be infinitely more fruitful when the material is a touch more ... vivacious."
Inui raised an eyebrow. "Oh really?"
% % %
It had been awkward crawling backwards in the vent, face to face with Mizuki. Inui could feel sweat collecting at the small hairs along his neck and ears. His glasses were also fogging up slightly, though there was only a small chance that Mizuki would realize that. At least there was a very small percentage of Inui passing gas. He'd maintained his diet impeccably. Luckily, several meters back, there was a crossroads with the fourth quadrant air vent.
Inui reversed into it and realigned himself. However, presenting his backside to Mizuki's sharp eyes felt even worse. Mizuki's silence didn't exactly add comfort to the atmosphere. He wondered if Mizuki noticed that his left buttocks needed to be exercised 12% more in order to be perfectly symmetrical. More worryingly, he wondered if those would be the sorts of thoughts he’d be having had their situations been reversed.
Fortunately, they reached their destination without incident: the Hyoutei showers.
Inui had heard rumors of course: decadent marble sculptures, Olympic sized mineral baths steamed to perfection, semi-nude servants lingering in the shadows, ready to deliver warmed towels, drinks or massages at the slightest whim of the regulars. What he hadn't accounted for was the sight of it.
Atobe was, naturally, in the direct center of Inui's line of vision. His head emerged from the water, and like a Baywatch babe, he slicked his dripping hair back slowly from his face with his hands, massaging his scalp sensually as he exhaled. Gakuto was graphically doing back flips as a smirking, flush-faced Oshitari watched from the sidelines, water trickling down his chest. Jiroh drifted by, floating on his back, and most likely dozing. At a smaller Jacuzzi, Ohtori was splashing a distinctly disgruntled Shishido. Hiyoshi was lying on his stomach on a cot as Kabaji expertly worked his back with his large hands, easing the knots of stress out with mechanical expertise.
It wasn't quite a surprise that Inui was aroused by the site of Hyoutei's finest frolicking around in a wet and wild display of lean, tanned muscle. Sometimes, Inui was aroused by stranger things: certain vegetable ingredients for his juices, Ryuuzaki-sensei in a bathing suit, a fast food commercial. However, all of those happened at times when he was alone, or at least occurred inconspicuously. This time, he was hyper-aware of Mizuki, just a leg's length away from his crotch. Would he be able to smell Inui's arousal?
"I can't see," Mizuki pouted, and without warning, he wiggled up along side Inui until the curls of his hair were brushing Inui's chin, nestling his body in like a spoon into a stack. Oh My, Inui thought dumbly.
He scooted his butt as far back as he could, willing Mizuki to not press against it like that - his mind screamed as Mizuki took the extra space as an invitation to grind back.
"Much more interesting, isn't it?" Mizuki purred, and his voice told Inui that he knew exactly what was hidden in Inui's 'pocket'.
"How -" Inui's voice started out embarrassingly scratchy. "How exactly is this relevant to tennis?"
Mizuki's chuckle vibrated against Inui's chest, and he shifted his hips deliberately until Inui hissed. "Spying, Inui-kun, has little to do with tennis."
This had to be a dream. Inui was used to dreams like this. Well, dreams with boys, but usually, he wasn't so nervous in those. Usually, he was in control, which was very much what he wasn't having as Mizuki twisted around until they were face to face.
The percentage of this occurring was less than 1%. It was confusing and unexpected, and Inui was not sure what the best choice was anymore.
"Don't you think the fact that we keep running into each other means something, Inui-kun?" Inui couldn't tell whether Mizuki was serious or not. "What do you think it means?"
Mizuki wasn't looking at Inui's glasses, but at his lips. Inui suddenly was thinking about kissing, and what that would be like, exactly, would he tilt his head to the left or the right, how they would keep their noses from squashing, what it might taste like. Specifically: what kissing Mizuki would be like. More specifically: what kissing Mizuki right now would be like.
"I'm not quite sure yet." Inui's voice was so quiet that he wondered if Mizuki could only feel it and not hear it.
He tilted his head down, unsure, but it didn't matter because Mizuki met him half way. It was rougher than Inui imagined it would be (soft, gentle, holding a blushing boy's hand), and when Mizuki's teeth nibbled at his lips, he parted them in surprise.
He hadn't expected tongue kissing, because, well, a tongue was the most flexible of the muscles, and had all sorts of different trajectories that Inui couldn't be sure how to predict where it would go.
That, Inui learned very quickly, was not a bad thing, and eventually, he'd wormed against and past Mizuki's tongue into his mouth. Mizuki tasted a bit like strawberries and spit, which was suddenly the best thing flavor of all. They kept breathing hard against each others' cheeks through their noses, which was a bit uncomfortable, but Inui didn't have much time to think about it as Mizuki started moving his body with little thought for modesty.
Clearly, Inui wasn't the only one with a surprise in his pocket.
The feel of their erections sliding against each other, even through their pants, shot through Inui so hard that he tore his mouth from the kiss to grunt. Panting on Mizuki's neck, there was little else he could do as he shifted to bring them as close as possible.
The friction was going to make this absurdly quick, Inui realized with a distant sort of horror. Preceding the horror was the fact that his own pants could feel so much better than his right hand. Preceding that - he had just experienced his first kiss and now he was going to come.
"I think we should be partners," Mizuki hissed as Inui squeezed a hand into the tight space between them.
Inui froze.
"In spying," Mizuki continued, and Inui breathed a sigh of enormous relief. He was only fifteen, after all.
"Um," Inui said, cupping Mizuki's cock through his pants, hoping that would change the topic a bit.
It didn't. However, the Hyoutei sound system suddenly blaring to life did. "Red Alert! Suspected terrorists have infiltrated Hyoutei Gakuen and have poisoned a professor. This is not a drill!"
Inui's hand retreated from Mizuki's pants to ruffle through his bag. Juice #384 was missing.
"Uh oh."
% % %
Inui had always been a solitary worker. He disliked group projects because, inevitably, no one else could do it as well as he could. Other people were inconstant. Only Inui himself could be relied upon. He'd known that for a long time.
This was why he couldn't even consider Mizuki's offer. An equal partnership? Impossible. What if Mizuki missed an important aspect of the information? What if Inui handed over a task to him and circumstances caused Mizuki to be unable to complete it? It was a ridiculous idea.
Kind of like kissing.
It had been awkward in the Post-Kissing days with Mizuki. After the disaster that the Hyoutei mission turned out to be (they'd gotten away, but were highly … unsatisfied in other ways), Inui wasn't sure how to act. Were they boyfriends now? Did they have to hold hands? Did that even really happen?
Well, he wasn't really doubting the last question. Mizuki had a certain way of reminding Inui - for example, when they were picking up balls for the regulars, Mizuki always moved in front of Inui so that his rear was prominently displayed as he bent down. Even more obvious were the notes written in invisible ink that Inui kept finding in his pockets. It made Inui hot in the face to find them, and hot in other places too.
However, the point was that they couldn't be partners.
Except. Maybe it wasn't such a bad idea.
In invisible ink, Inui wrote one word: Okay. He wondered how long it would take Mizuki to find it in his pocket.
(It didn't take long.)
% % %
"Rikkai Dai." Mizuki said the name like it meant nothing. "We don't have the pertinent data on them this year."
Inui tapped his pen on his notebook, swiveling slightly in his computer chair. "We won't meet them for at least another month. It'd be smarter to wait for information to trickle down to us."
Mizuki let out a dramatic sigh and stretched out over Inui's bed. Inui tried not to pay too much attention to the stripe of stomach revealed by the action. "That's the boring thing to do, yes, but it would be much more impressive to discover their lineup now. You aren't scared, are you, Inui-kun, just because they have a data master too? Surely the odds are with us."
Inui frowned, and chose to not answer that particular question.
"They are having a party to celebrate the selection of their captain this Saturday," Mizuki said, a bit apologetically. "It'd be a perfect opportunity to infiltrate and find out exactly what the team dynamics will be like this year. It's the key to discovering their weaknesses."
"Hmmm. It's risky. Do you propose to just stroll in and hope we blend in? I've know Yanagi Renji since I was a child. I'm quite sure I'd be recognized."
"Nfu nfu nfu." Mizuki rubbed his hands together gleefully. "We'll go in disguise."
Inui's eyebrows furrowed. "Well, I do have an extra black cap …"
"Oh no no no, Inui-kun." Mizuki had never looked scarier to Inui as he did in that moment. It was very sexy. "I am in charge of our wardrobe."
% % %
At least it wasn't floral.
Inui may not have much knowledge of modern day fashion, but he was quite sure that one did not normally dress in fishnets. The jeans looked like they were about to fall apart they were so faded and ripped. And he wasn't even going to start on the usage of makeup (it was a touchy subject between the two of them).
His hair was doing an awful impression of Fudominine's Kamio: draped over one eye and strangely flat. It made Inui's head look a lot smaller.
Lastly, Mizuki pressed contacts and a pair of sunglasses into Inui's hands. "You can use the bathroom to put them on," he said after Inui stood blankly in front of Mizuki's vanity desk.
When he emerged from the bathroom, he was nearly blinded by all the white and glitter adorning Mizuki. He was in a strange matching vest and trouser set that had sparkly roses adorning the fabric.
Inui was not sure why he was finding something so hideous cute.
"Aa," he said cautiously. "What are we supposed to be disguised as, exactly?"
Mizuki rolled his eyes, and put a hand on his hip. "Artists from Rikkai's Fine Arts program, obviously."
Inui thought that ninjas would have been cooler.
% % %
Crazily enough, they weren't identified by anyone at the party as not being Rikkai Dai students. Inui sulked in the back with the snacks (and Jackal), horribly uncomfortable, but Mizuki insisted it added to the character he was playing - an adolescent tortured soul. (Do slouch more, Inui-kun.) Mizuki was of course the fair and brilliant prince. Inui could tell he liked the role as he flounced around like a butterfly.
Perhaps a bit too much. True, they had agreed that mingling with the crowd was likely to yield valuable information. They hadn't agreed to gratuitous flirting with Yanagi Renji of all people. Worse than Mizuki's false titters rising in the air was the look of keen interest Renji was exhibiting.
"And I told her, darling, you wouldn't know art if it was munching on your derrière!"
Renji rested a hand on Mizuki's shoulder as he laughed.
Inui's eyebrow twitched, and he pushed his sunglasses up. He breathed. Counted to ten. Twenty. Googleplex.
Instead he marched over to Mizuki and grabbed him by the arm, tightly. "Can I see you for a moment, darling?"
% % %
Inui locked the bathroom door behind them. He didn't bother kissing Mizuki as he pushed him up against the wall. That wasn't what he wanted right now. What he wanted was to get down on his knees and tug those stupid white pants down. What he wanted was Mizuki thinking about Inui and Inui alone. His hands didn't fumble at all on the zippers.
"Commando?" he grunted, and Mizuki's cock bobbed slightly as through it knew it was being talked about.
"Don't -" Mizuki gasped, "-want to have VPL."
It was then that Inui took hold of Mizuki's dick. It was hot against his palm, and fully hard. As he watched it, wet drops of precome gathered at the slit, drooling slightly down to the floor. "You like it when they look at your ass, do you?" He licked the precome all off. "Slut."
It tasted bitter, but sweet in a way that had nothing to do with taste at all.
"Inui-kun, I -"
Inui pinned Mizuki firmly to the wall with his hands, knocking the argument out of him, and killing it when he sucked the tip of Mizuki's cock into his mouth.
"We -" Mizuki bit down on his hand, muffling his cry just slightly. "We're going to miss the announcement -"
Inui slid his mouth back until it popped softly off of the head of Mizuki's cock. He looked up, and Mizuki could see the dark glint of his eyes over the lenses. Inui didn't just stare - he studied, memorized, knew. He knew exactly how the alternate puffs of cold and hot breaths of air felt against Mizuki's shining erection.
But his voice betrayed his calm - it growled out throaty and deep and just a bit playful. "I received the information earlier today. Yukimura took the captainship."
The muscles in Mizuki's tight stomach kept tightening at uneven intervals. Inui liked the way it felt under his thumbs. "Oh -" He bucked his hips, his dick leaving a wet trail against Inui's cheek as it slid forward, and let out a whimper that should have been amusing, but came out so sexy that Inui worried he'd come in his pants. "Please, Jesus-fucking-Christ, Please."
Inui chuckled darkly, his sunglasses managing to glint somehow. "Aren't you interested in the line-up?"
Whatever Mizuki's original answer might have been would never be known as Inui, tired of testing and testing what made Mizuki writhe - what made him lose that smug composure - swallowed as much of Mizuki's cock as he could, sucking almost too tightly, just the way he wanted to.
There - Mizuki threw his head back against the tile with a crack that Inui hoped would leave bruises, and screamed.
These were things Inui could have been thinking:
1. Interestingly, the act was both more and less difficult than a banana.
a. The taste being the most obvious difference. Inui preferred bananas (though he pondered the merit of semen in a Mega-Hyper-Giga-Remix).
b. The texture of a penis was much firmer, much more resistant to becoming soggy with large amounts of saliva, though it did feel rich and full as it slid against the insides of Inui's mouth.
2. Mizuki had a really dirty mouth for someone with a strict Catholic upbringing (perhaps Inui should look more into Catholicism) as expletives ripped their way out of the lips he was so desperately trying to keep closed.
a. Was that even physically possible?
3. Yes, yes, yes - a thousand times yes.
Instead, Inui tightened his grip on Mizuki's hips, steadying the erratic thrust to a tortuously slow rhythm, swapping his mouth for a teasing tongue circling the crown of Mizuki's cock. "What was that, Mizuki?"
Dark lashes fluttered; Mizuki looked like a porcelain doll on the verge of breaking. His legs were trembling against Inui's chest - his lips were shining with built up spit. "Inui - Inui - Inui -"
Inui slid his hands around to Mizuki's ass, long fingers just brushing the line of his crack as he pulled him as far into his mouth as he could. Mizuki arched back, clumsy and sweaty and unbearably hot, and came down Inui's throat so hard he thought he might die.
When he opened his eyes, he realized that Inui must have pulled back when his spunk shot out. There were strands drizzled over his cheeks, on his glasses. Crouching down, he leaned in until his lips brushed Inui's ear. "It was never about the data."
Mizuki leaned back until he could see the look on Inui's face. Smirking, he nimbly tugged Inui's sunglasses off, and after a thoughtful pause, brought them to his mouth and licked lightly at the lenses. "It was about partnership."
Inui blinked.
It was.