Fic: The Trouble with Doubles
Title: The Trouble with Doubles
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Beta: whymzycal
Characters/pairing: Silver Pair
Rating: 18+
Prompt: Ultimatum
Word Count: 3,749
Shishido had a problem.
It was a recent development and very surprising because he couldn't recall ever having it back in middle school when he had played doubles with Chotaroh before. But he had the problem now, unfortunately, and it was beginning to affect his tennis. Badly. Something the two of them couldn't afford when they were lucky that Chotaroh was even allowed on the regulars at all. They could thank the lack of a decent doubles 2 pair for that. And if it hadn't been for Atobe making the regulars as a freshman last year, something like this would be unheard of. Sure, Shishido had been made a regular on his own this year, but with the deadly combination of teaming up with his former doubles partner and his blistering scud serve, Chotaroh had also been made a regular.
"You played like shit today," Atobe remarked as Shishido shoved his rackets into his bag and glanced over at Chotaroh. He was picking up balls at the end of practice with the other freshmen.
Shishido pulled off his cap and rubbed at his head in frustration before jamming it back down on his head. He knew that already, and he also knew that if he didn't shape up, not only would Chotaroh be in danger of being removed from the regulars, but Shishido might possibly be as well--and that was something he had sworn he'd never go through again. The whole situation just sucked.
"I'm allergic to Chotaroh," he finally replied, looking away from Chotaroh and over at Atobe.
"Excuse me, you're what?"
"Allergic," Shishido repeated impatiently. "To Ohtori." Atobe wasn't deaf; was he just being an ass? Did Shishido have to spell it out for him? "You know, whenever I'm around him my stomach feels all funny. Kinda ... twisty, you know? It's making it hard to play doubles with him."
Atobe grabbed Shishido's arm and gave him that look--that insight look--and Shishido could almost see Atobe sucking information out of his brain to eat for dinner. Stupid parasite freak.
"You're actually serious," Atobe said after a moment, smirking. Dammit, he actually smirked. "I've known you since we were kids, but I never thought you were an idiot. Well, no, that's not true. I never thought you were this much of an idiot."
"And I never thought you were this much of a prick," Shishido retorted, snatching his arm out of Atobe's grip. "No, wait, I always have. What the hell are you on about?"
"I'll give you two days," Atobe said smugly. "Two days to tell Ohtori you have a thing for him."
"WHAT?" Shishido squawked, flailing his arms as he stepped back. Atobe had gone insane. Completely insane. Like someone-should-call-for-a-straight-jacket insane because no one with that much money on hand should be allowed to roam the world freely while being insane. Things could happen. Really bad things that Atobe could make even worse by throwing money at them.
Atobe needed to be locked up for Shishido's own safety and well-being.
"You're not the captain," Shishido finally spat out. "You can't make me do a damn thing." There, that should put things back in perspective. Ego-maniac.
"Two days," Atobe repeated, still with that damn smirk on his face. "Or I tell Oshitari."
"You wouldn't," Shishido replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He could feel the blood draining from his body. He felt faint.
"Watch me," Atobe said with a wave of his hand. He turned to walk to the clubhouse, leaving Shishido gaping behind him. Telling Oshitari would be like ... well, like putting up a billboard for the entire senior high to see. And it wasn't true, dammit! He didn't have a thing for Chotaroh. Chotaroh was, well, Chotaroh. His stomach did a slow sickening flip at the thought of his partner. Alarmed, Shishido all but ran to the clubhouse and grabbed his bag, slamming his locker shut and sprinting to the door without even bothering to take a shower before leaving. He had to get out of there as fast as possible.
Once safe at home, Shishido showered and changed clothes. He went through the motions of eating dinner, managing yes-or-no answers to his mother's questions about his day, promising to bring Chotaroh by for dinner one night now that they were playing tennis together again. He excused himself from the table quickly and then bolted for the safety of his room where he could think in private. Or not think, which was what he would rather do. Stupid Atobe. Stupid Oshitari.
He made a genuine attempt at doing his homework and ignoring the situation altogether before realizing that he had written Atobe's name in his notebook and then jabbed his pencil at it so many times that he'd ripped a hole in the page--and several pages underneath it as well. How was he supposed to concentrate with Atobe's threat hanging over his head? Bastard.
Shishido tossed his pencil down and threw himself onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Atobe was wrong. Shishido liked girls. He had dated a couple and had actually managed to get his hand inside the shirt of one once. His fingers had just slipped under the lace of her bra before the girl had slapped his hand away, but not before he'd gotten a nice handful of her ass as well. Chotaroh was a boy, for fuck's sake, and even though he had a nice ass, it wasn't like Shishido was interested in grabbing it.
Wait, what?
Groaning, Shishido pulled his pillow over his face and tried to block out the rest of the world.
Atobe was insufferable the next day at school. Shishido could feel Atobe's eyes on him the entire day, and if he chanced a look, there Atobe was, smirking. It did nothing for his game at the end of the day, either, and when he caught sight of Atobe whispering in Oshitari's ear as they watched the tail end of Shishido and Chotaroh's game, he completely lost focus. After he kept hitting the ball into the net repeatedly, they lost, 4 games to 6. It was embarrassing. They were a thousand times better than that. If he could just concentrate! Shishido could see the sympathy in Chotaroh's eyes when he put his hand on Shishido's back.
"I'm sorry, Shishido-san," he said. "We'll do better next time." As if it were Chotaroh's fault that they had lost. The light from the sun setting behind Chotaroh struck his hair, lighting the strands into silver and gold, making him look almost ethereal in the low light. Shishido had to look away, his stomach twisting in knots. How could Chotaroh look like that? How could anyone look like that?
"It's not your fault," Shishido snapped. "And don't make excuses for me, either, Chotaroh." He turned and stormed back to the clubhouse, ignoring the look of hurt that he knew would be on his partner's face. He felt sick. He showered quickly and almost made it out the door without incident--until Atobe suddenly appeared to whisper mockingly in his ear, "One more day, Shishido-san," before turning away smugly.
Shishido sprinted for the bus.
Later that night Shishido decided that Atobe was the devil. Forget Kirihara with those fucked-up red eyes of his and that creepy smile. He had nothing on Atobe Keigo. Atobe didn't know what the hell he was talking about. Chotaroh was a boy. Shishido liked girls. It was a simple concept that anyone with half a brain would understand. And Chotaroh looked nothing like a girl, not like Yukimura Seiichi or Fuji Shusuke did. It wasn't hard to see why Sanada and Tezuka were getting hot and heavy with those two. Hell, they might as well be girls, they were so pretty. Chotaroh wasn't like that at all. He was good-looking, sure, that was a given. He was also strong and well built, with rock-hard muscles, and when he threw the ball in the air and shouted, "Ikkyu nyu kon!" as he hit his scud serve, Shishido sometimes got chills up and down his spine.
Shishido froze. His right hand was under his pants, squeezing his dick through his briefs, and ohfuckno, he was already half hard. He jerked his hand away quickly. He had not just done that while thinking about his doubles partner. It must have happened because he had been comparing him to girls. Yeah, that was it, he was thinking about girls and the swell of their tits under their school uniforms, their slender legs and short skirts. He put his hand back down his pants and imagined what it would be like to fuck one of them. Oshitari had said it was amazing, that it was hot and wet and so good, but the way he'd been eyeing Atobe up and down lately like he wanted to eat him alive, Shishido had to wonder if he knew what the fuck he was talking about. Slut. The both of them. Damn them both to hell.
Good. Now that he'd damned them both, he felt better. But that didn't help the fact that in less than 24 hours he was going to be humiliated beyond all hope of repair. Once Atobe told Oshitari, then the rest of the world would know, including Chotaroh, and Shishido didn't know how he was going to explain the whole situation to Chotaroh --that he was allergic to him. Because he really was.
Strictly for experiment's sake and to prove Atobe wrong, Shishido made himself think of what it would be like to fuck Chotaroh. He squirmed uncomfortably. It just didn't seem right. Chotaroh was taller than him and all and usually one went out with a girl that was shorter than them. And if it were the other way around ... Shishido had a sudden vision of Chotaroh leaning over him, pressing his mouth against his, covering Shishido's body with his own and pressing him down into his mattress. He felt a wave of heat rush through his body, and he squeezed his dick hard, stifling a moan.
Apparently not stifling it enough, though, because there was a sudden knock on his door and his mother's voice asking, "Ryo, are you all right?"
Shishido jumped up, taking his hand out of his pants and straightening up his clothes. "Fine, Mom," he said loudly through the door, hoping that she wouldn't come in. "Just having a hard time with a math problem."
"Why don't you give that nice boy Atobe Keigo a call?" his mother suggested, ever so helpfully. "He might be able to help you. Didn't you say he was good at math?"
"I'd beat myself to death with my own tennis racket before I'd call Atobe," Shishido muttered to himself. Again, apparently not quietly enough, because his mother said, "What was that, dear?"
"Nothing!" Shishido replied, grinding his teeth together. "I'll be sure to do that if I can't figure it out myself." He could hear his mother heading down the hallway to her own room, and he let out a sigh of relief. That was a close one. Now to take a cold shower and try not to think about the fact that he probably could have just made himself come by thinking about Chotaroh. Of Chotaroh possibly ... doing things to him.
Atobe really was the devil.
The day of Shishido's own personal hell arrived way too soon. He came to school bleary-eyed and dragging his feet after having spent most of the previous night tossing and turning. At 4:37 a.m. Shishido finally admitted to himself that yeah, he had a thing for Chotaroh. And even worse, he couldn't decide if he should confess to him or not, or deny the accusations and quite possibly the pointing and laughing (particularly from that twat Oshitari) that was sure to follow. In the end he decided that it might be best for Chotaroh if he confessed, hopefully saving Chotaroh from public humiliation. Then it would be up to Chotaroh as to whether or not he would still want to play doubles with him.
At practice that afternoon, Shishido was on fire. Having made up his mind did wonders for his game, and his enthusiasm was contagious. The doubles 2 pair gave an up-and-coming doubles pair a solid thrashing, with a final score of 2 games to 6, and Chotaroh was positively beaming by the end. Shishido's stomach did flip-flops just looking at him, and he had to turn away, ignoring the pointed looks that Atobe was giving him. This was it-- it was now or never.
Shishido hung around on the bleachers while Chotaroh picked up balls with the other freshman. He flipped Atobe off when he walked by with a smirk. Chotaroh seemed to sense that something was up, and he dallied a bit, letting the others leave before him before picking up his wire basket and heading toward the equipment room, his gait slow. The craziness of the locker room had died down by the time they arrived. The regulars having showered and left, and only a couple straggling underclassmen remained behind. Shishido took his time in the shower, letting the spray of hot water hit his back and shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension that had built up over the past couple of days. His hair was now shoulder-length and after giving it a good wash, he conditioned it, enjoying the feel of the silky wet strands as they slipped through his fingers. He'd earned his hair back, dammit, thanks to Chotaroh, and he was enjoying every moment of letting it grow back out. Soon he'd be able to ditch the cap and put it back up in a ponytail, honor restored. Chotaroh would be so proud. If he stuck around for it to even matter, that is.
When Shishido stepped out of the shower, towel slung around his waist, Chotaroh was waiting for him on the locker room bench. He was already dressed, his hair slightly damp, and he was nervously chewing on a fingernail. They were alone. God, Shishido would give anything to not have to do this, to keep his dirty little secret to himself, but that goddamn shit Atobe just had to butt his nose in where it didn't belong. Now here he was, getting dressed and hoping his hands weren't shaking too badly before he finally turned to Chotaroh.
"Hey, look, Chotaroh," he began, fidgeting with his cap so that he'd have something to do with his hands. "Atobe is making me say this to you--"
Chotaroh cut him off. "It's okay, Shishido-san," he said, his eyes downcast. "I understand if you don't want to play doubles with me anymore. It's been a year since we've played together and you're probably used to playing singles now. It's okay, you don't have to worry about me."
"What?" Shishido gaped open-mouthed at his partner. "Fuck, Chotaroh. I waited a whole year to play with you again. We were the best Nationals-level doubles team there was. Even better than Seigaku's Golden Pair," Shishido said with a snort.
"Then what is it?" Chotaroh asked, his eyes meeting Shishido's for the first time. "You've ignored me for two days, even outside of practice."
Shishido's stomach dropped somewhere to the region of his feet. He could see that Chotaroh was upset by the look in his eyes, and it cut Shishido to the quick. It was like he had stepped on a poor, defenseless puppy. Shishido wanted to kick himself in the head for putting that look on his partner's face, if he could just work out the logistics of such a thing. If Chotaroh cried, he would be doomed to spend all eternity in hell, probably serving Atobe fruity drinks or something, or maybe even washing his underwear.
Shishido took a deep breath.
"Look, I kinda like you, but I promise I won't let it interfere with our game anymore if you'll still play with me." He said it all in one breath as his cheeks burned with embarrassment and quite possibly horror.
Chotaroh just stared at him for several long moments. "What did you just say?" Chotaroh finally asked.
Shishido groaned. "Please don't make me say that again. It's bad enough that I had to say it at all." He didn't think he could even look Chotaroh in the eyes anymore, and his heart was pounding furiously in his chest. After a minute of complete silence, he dared a glance. Chotaroh was looking at him, his face pale and his mouth hanging open.
"You like me, like me?" Chotaroh asked in a tiny voice.
"Yeah." Shishido looked back down at the ground. "Sorry."
In two seconds flat he found his back shoved against the nearest locker. Startled, Shishido blurted out, "I said I was sorry, Chotaroh! I'll leave you alone from now on if that's what you want."
To Shishido's amazement, Chotaroh started to smile and then to giggle. Beyond embarrassed, Shishido scowled and tried to push past him and get the fuck out of the locker room so he could forget that this had ever happened, but Chotaroh stopped him, trapping him inside his arms, his hands pressed against the metal lockers.
"Shishido-san," he said, "I've liked you since my second year of middle school."
Shishido blinked in surprise. "What?" He felt like he was going to have an aneurysm any second now, or quite possibly his brain would just explode.
"I can't believe you didn't know," Chotaroh continued. "Everybody did. Oshitari used to try to give me pointers on how I should ask you out, but you were my senpai, Shishido-san. I didn't dare. And you seemed quite adamant that you liked girls."
"Uh ..." Shishido was dimly aware that he sounded like an idiot, but he couldn't yet form coherent words. Oshitari already knew? Everyone else already knew? He had just spent two days in absolute agony wondering what the hell he was going to do, only to find out that everyone already knew?
Atobe was going to die. Not just die, but have a very slow and painful death. It would have to be later, though, because suddenly Chotaroh's mouth was on his and Shishido could no longer think. The kiss was slightly shy at first, as if Chotaroh were asking permission, but then he became much more bold as Shishido's brain finally woke back up. Shishido kissed back, opening his mouth as Chotaroh slid his tongue wetly against his own. This was nothing like kissing a girl. It wasn't soft and sweet; it was warm and firm. Shishido's hand curled into a fist on the front of Chotaroh's shirt and just held on. It was so amazing that Shishido actually whimpered in the back of his throat. He would have been completely embarrassed if this were anyone other than Chotaroh he was kissing. Then he suddenly realized that he was kissing Chotaroh. Not just kissing him, but kissing him and liking it.
"Shishido-san," Chotaroh murmured as their mouths finally broke apart, his voice low and rough, his hot breath ghosting over Shishido's cheek. "I've thought about doing this forever. I can't believe you're finally letting me."
Shishido couldn't speak. His legs were trembling, and thank God he was leaning back against the lockers because he wasn't sure he could stand on his own anymore. Then Chotaroh found his neck, sucking on the sensitive skin there, and Shishido was hard as a rock and pressing into Chotaroh's hand and ohfuckohfuckohfuck. Chotaroh started whispering things in Shishido's ear. Dirty things--absolutely filthy things--he wanted to do to Shishido that Shishido might have once thought were sick and disgusting, but all he could think was, yeah, oh yeah, and if Chotaroh didn't stop, he was going to come in his pants--right there in the locker room.
"Geez, Chotaroh," he said weakly. " Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"
Chotaroh stopped the amazing things he was doing to Shishido's neck to look at him and grin. "I kissed you with my mouth," he pointed out with glee.
His grin was infectious. "Yeah," Shishido agreed, his face breaking out into a grin of its own. "And when did you turn into such a pervert?"
"I dated last year," Chotaroh said loftily. "I couldn't very well moon over you when you weren't there anymore."
Shishido nodded in agreement before it hit him full-force. Chotaroh had dated last year. "Who was it?" he all but growled, pushing Chotaroh back forcefully with a hand to his chest. "It wasn't that Hiyoshi, was it?" he asked, suddenly feeling like he wanted to kill someone, anyone, for putting their hands on Chotaroh.
"I'm not telling." Chotaroh grinned cheekily. "Besides, I heard you dated a girl. A couple of them, actually."
"Yeah, well, I didn't know what I was missing," Shishido replied. His cheeks were heating up again with embarrassment, but he couldn't help but grin as he looked up at Chotaroh. His Chotaroh now. And dammit, he wasn't letting anyone put their grubby little hands on him ever again. He'd kill them. A lot.
"My mother is going to want to have you over for dinner now, Shishido san."
"What?" Shishido gaped. "You mean, you told your mother?"
Chotaroh just shook his head at Shishido's horrified look, laughing. "I told you, Shishido-san. Everyone knew. Including my parents."
Shishido groaned. Maybe it wasn't Atobe who was the devil, it was actually Chotaroh. Behind that innocent-looking face and puppy-dog eyes lurked real evil, and now Shishido was forever caught in his tangled web. "Okay." He sighed in total defeat. "Just let me know when." He might as well give in now and save himself the trouble later. He could never say no to Chotaroh, and the sooner he got used to it, the better.
The next day at practice, Shishido could not stop looking at Chotaroh and grinning like an idiot. Oshitari came up behind him to put his hand on Shishido's shoulder and drawled in his ear, "It's about time." Shishido flipped him off, but he had to admit that his heart just wasn't in it.
Chotaroh beamed with happiness. Shishido knew they would be fodder for locker room gossip for weeks, but he really couldn't bring himself to care. That was the proof right there if he ever needed it. Chotaroh really was the devil.
Yeah, Shishido thought, smiling, I am so doomed.
Fandom: Prince of Tennis
Beta: whymzycal
Characters/pairing: Silver Pair
Rating: 18+
Prompt: Ultimatum
Word Count: 3,749
Shishido had a problem.
It was a recent development and very surprising because he couldn't recall ever having it back in middle school when he had played doubles with Chotaroh before. But he had the problem now, unfortunately, and it was beginning to affect his tennis. Badly. Something the two of them couldn't afford when they were lucky that Chotaroh was even allowed on the regulars at all. They could thank the lack of a decent doubles 2 pair for that. And if it hadn't been for Atobe making the regulars as a freshman last year, something like this would be unheard of. Sure, Shishido had been made a regular on his own this year, but with the deadly combination of teaming up with his former doubles partner and his blistering scud serve, Chotaroh had also been made a regular.
"You played like shit today," Atobe remarked as Shishido shoved his rackets into his bag and glanced over at Chotaroh. He was picking up balls at the end of practice with the other freshmen.
Shishido pulled off his cap and rubbed at his head in frustration before jamming it back down on his head. He knew that already, and he also knew that if he didn't shape up, not only would Chotaroh be in danger of being removed from the regulars, but Shishido might possibly be as well--and that was something he had sworn he'd never go through again. The whole situation just sucked.
"I'm allergic to Chotaroh," he finally replied, looking away from Chotaroh and over at Atobe.
"Excuse me, you're what?"
"Allergic," Shishido repeated impatiently. "To Ohtori." Atobe wasn't deaf; was he just being an ass? Did Shishido have to spell it out for him? "You know, whenever I'm around him my stomach feels all funny. Kinda ... twisty, you know? It's making it hard to play doubles with him."
Atobe grabbed Shishido's arm and gave him that look--that insight look--and Shishido could almost see Atobe sucking information out of his brain to eat for dinner. Stupid parasite freak.
"You're actually serious," Atobe said after a moment, smirking. Dammit, he actually smirked. "I've known you since we were kids, but I never thought you were an idiot. Well, no, that's not true. I never thought you were this much of an idiot."
"And I never thought you were this much of a prick," Shishido retorted, snatching his arm out of Atobe's grip. "No, wait, I always have. What the hell are you on about?"
"I'll give you two days," Atobe said smugly. "Two days to tell Ohtori you have a thing for him."
"WHAT?" Shishido squawked, flailing his arms as he stepped back. Atobe had gone insane. Completely insane. Like someone-should-call-for-a-straight-jacket insane because no one with that much money on hand should be allowed to roam the world freely while being insane. Things could happen. Really bad things that Atobe could make even worse by throwing money at them.
Atobe needed to be locked up for Shishido's own safety and well-being.
"You're not the captain," Shishido finally spat out. "You can't make me do a damn thing." There, that should put things back in perspective. Ego-maniac.
"Two days," Atobe repeated, still with that damn smirk on his face. "Or I tell Oshitari."
"You wouldn't," Shishido replied, his voice barely above a whisper. He could feel the blood draining from his body. He felt faint.
"Watch me," Atobe said with a wave of his hand. He turned to walk to the clubhouse, leaving Shishido gaping behind him. Telling Oshitari would be like ... well, like putting up a billboard for the entire senior high to see. And it wasn't true, dammit! He didn't have a thing for Chotaroh. Chotaroh was, well, Chotaroh. His stomach did a slow sickening flip at the thought of his partner. Alarmed, Shishido all but ran to the clubhouse and grabbed his bag, slamming his locker shut and sprinting to the door without even bothering to take a shower before leaving. He had to get out of there as fast as possible.
Once safe at home, Shishido showered and changed clothes. He went through the motions of eating dinner, managing yes-or-no answers to his mother's questions about his day, promising to bring Chotaroh by for dinner one night now that they were playing tennis together again. He excused himself from the table quickly and then bolted for the safety of his room where he could think in private. Or not think, which was what he would rather do. Stupid Atobe. Stupid Oshitari.
He made a genuine attempt at doing his homework and ignoring the situation altogether before realizing that he had written Atobe's name in his notebook and then jabbed his pencil at it so many times that he'd ripped a hole in the page--and several pages underneath it as well. How was he supposed to concentrate with Atobe's threat hanging over his head? Bastard.
Shishido tossed his pencil down and threw himself onto his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Atobe was wrong. Shishido liked girls. He had dated a couple and had actually managed to get his hand inside the shirt of one once. His fingers had just slipped under the lace of her bra before the girl had slapped his hand away, but not before he'd gotten a nice handful of her ass as well. Chotaroh was a boy, for fuck's sake, and even though he had a nice ass, it wasn't like Shishido was interested in grabbing it.
Wait, what?
Groaning, Shishido pulled his pillow over his face and tried to block out the rest of the world.
Atobe was insufferable the next day at school. Shishido could feel Atobe's eyes on him the entire day, and if he chanced a look, there Atobe was, smirking. It did nothing for his game at the end of the day, either, and when he caught sight of Atobe whispering in Oshitari's ear as they watched the tail end of Shishido and Chotaroh's game, he completely lost focus. After he kept hitting the ball into the net repeatedly, they lost, 4 games to 6. It was embarrassing. They were a thousand times better than that. If he could just concentrate! Shishido could see the sympathy in Chotaroh's eyes when he put his hand on Shishido's back.
"I'm sorry, Shishido-san," he said. "We'll do better next time." As if it were Chotaroh's fault that they had lost. The light from the sun setting behind Chotaroh struck his hair, lighting the strands into silver and gold, making him look almost ethereal in the low light. Shishido had to look away, his stomach twisting in knots. How could Chotaroh look like that? How could anyone look like that?
"It's not your fault," Shishido snapped. "And don't make excuses for me, either, Chotaroh." He turned and stormed back to the clubhouse, ignoring the look of hurt that he knew would be on his partner's face. He felt sick. He showered quickly and almost made it out the door without incident--until Atobe suddenly appeared to whisper mockingly in his ear, "One more day, Shishido-san," before turning away smugly.
Shishido sprinted for the bus.
Later that night Shishido decided that Atobe was the devil. Forget Kirihara with those fucked-up red eyes of his and that creepy smile. He had nothing on Atobe Keigo. Atobe didn't know what the hell he was talking about. Chotaroh was a boy. Shishido liked girls. It was a simple concept that anyone with half a brain would understand. And Chotaroh looked nothing like a girl, not like Yukimura Seiichi or Fuji Shusuke did. It wasn't hard to see why Sanada and Tezuka were getting hot and heavy with those two. Hell, they might as well be girls, they were so pretty. Chotaroh wasn't like that at all. He was good-looking, sure, that was a given. He was also strong and well built, with rock-hard muscles, and when he threw the ball in the air and shouted, "Ikkyu nyu kon!" as he hit his scud serve, Shishido sometimes got chills up and down his spine.
Shishido froze. His right hand was under his pants, squeezing his dick through his briefs, and ohfuckno, he was already half hard. He jerked his hand away quickly. He had not just done that while thinking about his doubles partner. It must have happened because he had been comparing him to girls. Yeah, that was it, he was thinking about girls and the swell of their tits under their school uniforms, their slender legs and short skirts. He put his hand back down his pants and imagined what it would be like to fuck one of them. Oshitari had said it was amazing, that it was hot and wet and so good, but the way he'd been eyeing Atobe up and down lately like he wanted to eat him alive, Shishido had to wonder if he knew what the fuck he was talking about. Slut. The both of them. Damn them both to hell.
Good. Now that he'd damned them both, he felt better. But that didn't help the fact that in less than 24 hours he was going to be humiliated beyond all hope of repair. Once Atobe told Oshitari, then the rest of the world would know, including Chotaroh, and Shishido didn't know how he was going to explain the whole situation to Chotaroh --that he was allergic to him. Because he really was.
Strictly for experiment's sake and to prove Atobe wrong, Shishido made himself think of what it would be like to fuck Chotaroh. He squirmed uncomfortably. It just didn't seem right. Chotaroh was taller than him and all and usually one went out with a girl that was shorter than them. And if it were the other way around ... Shishido had a sudden vision of Chotaroh leaning over him, pressing his mouth against his, covering Shishido's body with his own and pressing him down into his mattress. He felt a wave of heat rush through his body, and he squeezed his dick hard, stifling a moan.
Apparently not stifling it enough, though, because there was a sudden knock on his door and his mother's voice asking, "Ryo, are you all right?"
Shishido jumped up, taking his hand out of his pants and straightening up his clothes. "Fine, Mom," he said loudly through the door, hoping that she wouldn't come in. "Just having a hard time with a math problem."
"Why don't you give that nice boy Atobe Keigo a call?" his mother suggested, ever so helpfully. "He might be able to help you. Didn't you say he was good at math?"
"I'd beat myself to death with my own tennis racket before I'd call Atobe," Shishido muttered to himself. Again, apparently not quietly enough, because his mother said, "What was that, dear?"
"Nothing!" Shishido replied, grinding his teeth together. "I'll be sure to do that if I can't figure it out myself." He could hear his mother heading down the hallway to her own room, and he let out a sigh of relief. That was a close one. Now to take a cold shower and try not to think about the fact that he probably could have just made himself come by thinking about Chotaroh. Of Chotaroh possibly ... doing things to him.
Atobe really was the devil.
The day of Shishido's own personal hell arrived way too soon. He came to school bleary-eyed and dragging his feet after having spent most of the previous night tossing and turning. At 4:37 a.m. Shishido finally admitted to himself that yeah, he had a thing for Chotaroh. And even worse, he couldn't decide if he should confess to him or not, or deny the accusations and quite possibly the pointing and laughing (particularly from that twat Oshitari) that was sure to follow. In the end he decided that it might be best for Chotaroh if he confessed, hopefully saving Chotaroh from public humiliation. Then it would be up to Chotaroh as to whether or not he would still want to play doubles with him.
At practice that afternoon, Shishido was on fire. Having made up his mind did wonders for his game, and his enthusiasm was contagious. The doubles 2 pair gave an up-and-coming doubles pair a solid thrashing, with a final score of 2 games to 6, and Chotaroh was positively beaming by the end. Shishido's stomach did flip-flops just looking at him, and he had to turn away, ignoring the pointed looks that Atobe was giving him. This was it-- it was now or never.
Shishido hung around on the bleachers while Chotaroh picked up balls with the other freshman. He flipped Atobe off when he walked by with a smirk. Chotaroh seemed to sense that something was up, and he dallied a bit, letting the others leave before him before picking up his wire basket and heading toward the equipment room, his gait slow. The craziness of the locker room had died down by the time they arrived. The regulars having showered and left, and only a couple straggling underclassmen remained behind. Shishido took his time in the shower, letting the spray of hot water hit his back and shoulders, trying to ease some of the tension that had built up over the past couple of days. His hair was now shoulder-length and after giving it a good wash, he conditioned it, enjoying the feel of the silky wet strands as they slipped through his fingers. He'd earned his hair back, dammit, thanks to Chotaroh, and he was enjoying every moment of letting it grow back out. Soon he'd be able to ditch the cap and put it back up in a ponytail, honor restored. Chotaroh would be so proud. If he stuck around for it to even matter, that is.
When Shishido stepped out of the shower, towel slung around his waist, Chotaroh was waiting for him on the locker room bench. He was already dressed, his hair slightly damp, and he was nervously chewing on a fingernail. They were alone. God, Shishido would give anything to not have to do this, to keep his dirty little secret to himself, but that goddamn shit Atobe just had to butt his nose in where it didn't belong. Now here he was, getting dressed and hoping his hands weren't shaking too badly before he finally turned to Chotaroh.
"Hey, look, Chotaroh," he began, fidgeting with his cap so that he'd have something to do with his hands. "Atobe is making me say this to you--"
Chotaroh cut him off. "It's okay, Shishido-san," he said, his eyes downcast. "I understand if you don't want to play doubles with me anymore. It's been a year since we've played together and you're probably used to playing singles now. It's okay, you don't have to worry about me."
"What?" Shishido gaped open-mouthed at his partner. "Fuck, Chotaroh. I waited a whole year to play with you again. We were the best Nationals-level doubles team there was. Even better than Seigaku's Golden Pair," Shishido said with a snort.
"Then what is it?" Chotaroh asked, his eyes meeting Shishido's for the first time. "You've ignored me for two days, even outside of practice."
Shishido's stomach dropped somewhere to the region of his feet. He could see that Chotaroh was upset by the look in his eyes, and it cut Shishido to the quick. It was like he had stepped on a poor, defenseless puppy. Shishido wanted to kick himself in the head for putting that look on his partner's face, if he could just work out the logistics of such a thing. If Chotaroh cried, he would be doomed to spend all eternity in hell, probably serving Atobe fruity drinks or something, or maybe even washing his underwear.
Shishido took a deep breath.
"Look, I kinda like you, but I promise I won't let it interfere with our game anymore if you'll still play with me." He said it all in one breath as his cheeks burned with embarrassment and quite possibly horror.
Chotaroh just stared at him for several long moments. "What did you just say?" Chotaroh finally asked.
Shishido groaned. "Please don't make me say that again. It's bad enough that I had to say it at all." He didn't think he could even look Chotaroh in the eyes anymore, and his heart was pounding furiously in his chest. After a minute of complete silence, he dared a glance. Chotaroh was looking at him, his face pale and his mouth hanging open.
"You like me, like me?" Chotaroh asked in a tiny voice.
"Yeah." Shishido looked back down at the ground. "Sorry."
In two seconds flat he found his back shoved against the nearest locker. Startled, Shishido blurted out, "I said I was sorry, Chotaroh! I'll leave you alone from now on if that's what you want."
To Shishido's amazement, Chotaroh started to smile and then to giggle. Beyond embarrassed, Shishido scowled and tried to push past him and get the fuck out of the locker room so he could forget that this had ever happened, but Chotaroh stopped him, trapping him inside his arms, his hands pressed against the metal lockers.
"Shishido-san," he said, "I've liked you since my second year of middle school."
Shishido blinked in surprise. "What?" He felt like he was going to have an aneurysm any second now, or quite possibly his brain would just explode.
"I can't believe you didn't know," Chotaroh continued. "Everybody did. Oshitari used to try to give me pointers on how I should ask you out, but you were my senpai, Shishido-san. I didn't dare. And you seemed quite adamant that you liked girls."
"Uh ..." Shishido was dimly aware that he sounded like an idiot, but he couldn't yet form coherent words. Oshitari already knew? Everyone else already knew? He had just spent two days in absolute agony wondering what the hell he was going to do, only to find out that everyone already knew?
Atobe was going to die. Not just die, but have a very slow and painful death. It would have to be later, though, because suddenly Chotaroh's mouth was on his and Shishido could no longer think. The kiss was slightly shy at first, as if Chotaroh were asking permission, but then he became much more bold as Shishido's brain finally woke back up. Shishido kissed back, opening his mouth as Chotaroh slid his tongue wetly against his own. This was nothing like kissing a girl. It wasn't soft and sweet; it was warm and firm. Shishido's hand curled into a fist on the front of Chotaroh's shirt and just held on. It was so amazing that Shishido actually whimpered in the back of his throat. He would have been completely embarrassed if this were anyone other than Chotaroh he was kissing. Then he suddenly realized that he was kissing Chotaroh. Not just kissing him, but kissing him and liking it.
"Shishido-san," Chotaroh murmured as their mouths finally broke apart, his voice low and rough, his hot breath ghosting over Shishido's cheek. "I've thought about doing this forever. I can't believe you're finally letting me."
Shishido couldn't speak. His legs were trembling, and thank God he was leaning back against the lockers because he wasn't sure he could stand on his own anymore. Then Chotaroh found his neck, sucking on the sensitive skin there, and Shishido was hard as a rock and pressing into Chotaroh's hand and ohfuckohfuckohfuck. Chotaroh started whispering things in Shishido's ear. Dirty things--absolutely filthy things--he wanted to do to Shishido that Shishido might have once thought were sick and disgusting, but all he could think was, yeah, oh yeah, and if Chotaroh didn't stop, he was going to come in his pants--right there in the locker room.
"Geez, Chotaroh," he said weakly. " Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?"
Chotaroh stopped the amazing things he was doing to Shishido's neck to look at him and grin. "I kissed you with my mouth," he pointed out with glee.
His grin was infectious. "Yeah," Shishido agreed, his face breaking out into a grin of its own. "And when did you turn into such a pervert?"
"I dated last year," Chotaroh said loftily. "I couldn't very well moon over you when you weren't there anymore."
Shishido nodded in agreement before it hit him full-force. Chotaroh had dated last year. "Who was it?" he all but growled, pushing Chotaroh back forcefully with a hand to his chest. "It wasn't that Hiyoshi, was it?" he asked, suddenly feeling like he wanted to kill someone, anyone, for putting their hands on Chotaroh.
"I'm not telling." Chotaroh grinned cheekily. "Besides, I heard you dated a girl. A couple of them, actually."
"Yeah, well, I didn't know what I was missing," Shishido replied. His cheeks were heating up again with embarrassment, but he couldn't help but grin as he looked up at Chotaroh. His Chotaroh now. And dammit, he wasn't letting anyone put their grubby little hands on him ever again. He'd kill them. A lot.
"My mother is going to want to have you over for dinner now, Shishido san."
"What?" Shishido gaped. "You mean, you told your mother?"
Chotaroh just shook his head at Shishido's horrified look, laughing. "I told you, Shishido-san. Everyone knew. Including my parents."
Shishido groaned. Maybe it wasn't Atobe who was the devil, it was actually Chotaroh. Behind that innocent-looking face and puppy-dog eyes lurked real evil, and now Shishido was forever caught in his tangled web. "Okay." He sighed in total defeat. "Just let me know when." He might as well give in now and save himself the trouble later. He could never say no to Chotaroh, and the sooner he got used to it, the better.
The next day at practice, Shishido could not stop looking at Chotaroh and grinning like an idiot. Oshitari came up behind him to put his hand on Shishido's shoulder and drawled in his ear, "It's about time." Shishido flipped him off, but he had to admit that his heart just wasn't in it.
Chotaroh beamed with happiness. Shishido knew they would be fodder for locker room gossip for weeks, but he really couldn't bring himself to care. That was the proof right there if he ever needed it. Chotaroh really was the devil.
Yeah, Shishido thought, smiling, I am so doomed.