[FIC] Gakuen Heaven: Surfacing: Set
Surfacing: Set
- a sequel to Game
Authors: kagayachou and the_dw
Characters/Pairings: Shichijo/Nakajima, Shichijo/Saionji implied
Rating: R
Words: 3587
Summary: The aftermath of Game: Shichijo had gone too far, and emotions are complicated. Are Shichijo and Nakajima still playing the same game now?
Three weeks. It'd been three weeks since Nakajima said, "Shichijo. You're mine," and the silver-haired boy couldn't simply delete his memories of what happened thereafter. Especially not when the words physically hurt. Even in thought. And that feeling of being inside Nakajima was so visceral; Shichijo could almost taste him in his sleep.
He wanted to touch his rival again; what was wrong with him?
The gods must have been listening when he walked into the Student Council room to collect new documents for the Treasury's approval, and found that Niwa had played hooky again.
Nakajima looked up from his desk, raising an eyebrow when he saw Shichijo lock the door. He leaned back against his seat, steepling his fingers and crossing his legs. Well, it seemed that Shichijo had finally stopped avoiding him and asking Saionji to come over to collect the documents. Nakajima still ached from their... activities a week ago, and now he had taken to carrying lubricant everywhere with him. Just in case.
"You aren't just here for the paperwork, are you?" He drawled. Shichijo's eyes were very expressive.
They were concerned, relieved... some strange mix of both, and almost frightened at the same time. Shichijo's eyes searched Nakajima's face and he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. The other boy looked...all right. Like nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them. Like what they'd done was only to be expected.
He took a step closer to the seated boy. And another step. And another. Until he could lean over him, and cup his cheek. Just stare into his eyes for a moment.
'You're not hurt? Not at all affected?'
"Nakajima..."
Nakajima's eyes widened for a moment before he closed them, pushing his chair further back and standing up. He chuckled below his breath, rather amused at the guilt and even worry he saw in Shichijo's eyes.
"As you can see, I'm perfectly fine," his lips twisted into a wry smirk. "I wouldn't say that I wasn’t injured, but what damage there is has long since healed." ‘But not entirely’, a small voice reminded him. Nakajima pushed it to the very corner of his mind. "I'm not that fragile."
He walked around the desk, stopping just beside Shichijo, leaning a hip against his own desk as he studied the other boy coolly. "Why, are you feeling guilty now?" He let his amusement slip into his voice.
Shichijo pulled his hand back to his side, fingers curled slightly, but not quite. Nakajima's amusement made him want to punch him, so he forced himself to relax. Dropping his eyes to the table, as if its surface was the most fascinating thing in the world, he replied quietly.
"I hadn't meant to go that far."
"I know," Nakajima said, matter-of-factly. "In fact, you wouldn't even have fucked me if I hadn't goaded you into it."
He reached forward and tilted Shichijo's chin up so that those purple eyes are facing him. "If you feel guilty over it, then you're an idiot. I knew what I was doing; it was consensual. Hell, I told you to come to me if you wanted more." Shrugging, he changed the subject, "Besides, I'm your rival. You hate me, don't you?"
Still smirking, he tilted his head to the side in half-curiosity and half to mock Shichijo, "So why are you apologizing?"
"Why?" Shichijo gaped. He stepped back, away from the touch. "You were bleeding; I... I should have known better than that."
He couldn't reconcile how calm Nakajima was, to how horrified Iwai had looked. He hadn't even touched Iwai, and the artist was dead scared of him, if not oddly fascinated - staring at him curiously when he wasn't supposedly looking. Yet Nakajima was willing to let it happen. Again!
Finally, Shichijo settled with, "I can do better than that."
"Angry people are senseless people," Nakajima commented, almost idly. "You couldn't have known better because you knew nothing at the time. It's so nice to know that I still can have that effect on people."
Stepping forward until they were less than an inch apart, he said, "I might have been bleeding, but I gave it back as good as it could get. Pain means nothing to me. It was fun; just another extension of the game we usually play." He shook his head, grinning slightly. "Really, if you're so vanilla about sex, how can you actually 'do better than that'?"
Goading Shichijo was solidifying its place as one of his hobbies. Now that the other boy wasn't hiding his emotions behind a false smile, it had become so much fun.
Shichijo closed his eyes briefly, but it was in frustration. Yes, he admitted Nakajima had an effect on him. Yes, he'd acted on spite, on anger. He'd been so stupid, and here... he wanted to do it again.
"I like vanilla," he gritted out. Lifting a hand to the back of Nakajima's neck and another to his hip, Shichijo closed the distance between them, and licked the other's boy's bottom lip, gently, a precursor to a thorough kiss.
Nakajima kissed back, wrapping an arm around Shichijo's waist and pulling the silver-haired boy even closer, their groins pressed against each other. He smirked into the kiss, running his free hand through Shichijo's hair, tugging at the ends slightly. He pulled away a little, meeting violet eyes with teasing blue ones.
"Then show me how interesting it can be. That's what you came for, isn't it?"
A whisper. "Yes." Another kiss. Shichijo nodded towards the chair Nakajima had occupied when he'd entered the room, the one Niwa sat in when he was actually present. "Sit down, and I'll show you." He wanted to kiss every part of Nakajima that he'd hurt. The bruises, the cuts where his nails dug too deeply... everywhere.
Nakajima shook his head, laughing lowly. He kissed Shichijo again, pulling the other boy close as he slowly stepped backwards, finally sitting down hard on the couch in the Student Council office. He barely managed to hide a wince at the impact, choosing to start unbuttoning Shichijo's pants with swift fingers, looking up to his rival through his lashes.
"Here is so much more convenient, don't you think?"
Shichijo didn't want to think. He had caught sight of the pained expression that flickered over Nakajima's face, and although he knew that the other boy didn't want to hear any apologies from him, he couldn't help but kneel at his feet and kiss him deeply, to make up for what he'd done.
What could Nakajima do but to kiss back? On one hand, he was rather annoyed by Shichijo's stupidity. The other boy was like Saionji, really, given how stupid they were on certain issues and how Nakajima couldn't get a word in their head. On the other, he was simply amused that despite their rivalry and Shichijo's hatred towards him, Shichijo still felt as if he needed Nakajima to forgive him.
He focused on those two emotions and locked away the (conflicting) others, letting his arm go around Shichijo's neck as they kissed slowly. It wasn't a spar any more, but a dance, and Nakajima was slightly confused over just what had changed.
Breaking the kiss, he said, "You have a guilt complex. I told you that I was a very willing participant, didn't I? Stop treating me as if I will break."
"I'm not," Shichijo didn't put much behind the simple protest. Rather, he concentrated on undoing Nakajima's tie and then his pants. But since his hands were busy, he leaned closer... to undo the buttons of the other boy's shirt with his teeth and tongue.
Nakajima's head dropped backwards, humming low in his throat at the sensations running up and down his spine. He spread his legs a little wider giving Shichijo more space to maneuver even as he slipped his rival's blazer and vest off his shoulders, hands dropping down to unknot the tie.
"I can't reach you properly like this," he said, voice slow and thick like honey. He shrugged off his shirt when it was finally off, dropping his glasses onto the floor. "Stop kneeling in front me of like you're asking for penance and I might just believe you."
"Would you?" Shichijo raised any eyebrow at him, a faint shadow of a smile upon his lips. "No... If you really did that you'd be far too naive." He rose to his feet, pulling his blazer and vest off to place them, loosely folded, over one of the computer tables. His shirt and tie soon joined the pile.
He sat down by Nakajima when he returned to the couch, and murmured, "I'll be gentle this time... because I can." It wasn't so much that he was asking for penance, but he wanted... he wasn't sure what he wanted exactly. He reached out, letting a hand wander down Hide's chest. He kissed the other boy's shoulder, his neck, his throat. Lapped at a bruise that hadn't quite faded. If he looked hard enough, Shichijo supposed he'd be able to make out teeth marks.
"What if I don't want you to be gentle?" He murmured, almost absent-mindedly. How far would Shichijo go with his 'gentle' treatment, this time? And what would Nakajima need to do to break his control?
Violet eyes flickered over blue. "Tough." He kissed down Nakajima's neck to the hollow of his throat as he continued, "You'll have to make me."
"Hmm," Nakajima made a pleased noise low in his throat as Shichijo found one of his erogenous spots, eyes fluttering half-shut, hands at his side as he simply laid back and enjoy the treatment. But he wasn't one to be inactive for long.
He smirked lazily, "Is that a challenge?"
Shichijo nuzzled; it was a slight shake of his head. "I wanted you to leave me alone." He dipped his head down and took his mouth to one of Nakajima's nipples, splaying his hand over his chest to find the other one between his fingers, gently, gently teasing those nipples erect.
"I did leave you alone," Nakajima pointed out, his voice barely above a whisper as he arched his body slightly upwards. "You're the one who sought me out this time, and you used past tense..." he smirked, opening his eyes to meet Shichijo's violet ones.
"Did you find my company more enthralling after you fucked me?"
Shichijo seemed to be very serious about being gentle; small frissons of pleasures were spreading throughout his body from where Shichijo had touched, and his body was heating up slowly, so slowly. But this could be interesting, in its own way.
Perhaps Shichijo wanted to make him beg.
Shichijo wanted to touch every part of Nakajima that he'd touched before, and more. It was faintly as though the silver-haired boy thought to kiss his wounds and thus heal them, or something quaintly childish like that.
But then, Shichijo paused, looked at him - just a tad hesitant at the lack of... reciprocation. "Do you really want this?"
Nakajima simply stared at him for a moment. He blinked.
The question was genuine; that uncertain look in those clear violet eyes told him so.
Oh this was just too rich. Nakajima's lips twitched, and he laughed, deep chuckles that he tried to muffle with his hand. He turned away, eyes dancing with laughter as he tried to calm himself to explain.
He reached downwards, kissing Shichijo full on the lips, nibbling on his rival's bottom lip and coaxing his mouth open, dominating the kiss. He closed his eyes, as much to hide his amusement as to concentrate on the kiss, wanting to wring as much pleasure from the other boy as possible. Thrusting his hips up a little, he let his erection rub against Shichijo's, causing moans to escape from both their lips.
He eventually pulled away, a hand in Shichijo's hair to hold his gaze steady as they looked at each other for moment. "I like you better when you're being aggressive," Nakajima said, amused. "If I don't want this, Shichijo, then I would've kicked your ass out of the door a long time ago. It's impossible to force me to do anything I don't want to."
He pushed the other boy lightly away, smirking still. "Now, weren't you trying to show me something?"
Shichijo had a haunted look in his eyes. Nakajima was laughing, truly amused, while Shichijo himself was confused. "Did you want me to fuck you like that?" He thought of last week, when he was with Nakajima, out in the corridor. The blood, the sweat, the semen... "What are you, a masochist?"
Nakajima shrugged, "Not really. I don't care much for the pain, but..." He pressed two fingers under Shichijo's chin, tilting the other boy's head towards him, an amused smirk on his lips. "We were playing a game all along, you see, and what happened then was just an extension of it." The smirk widened.
"An extension that I enjoyed very, very much. To see you lose control like that, to stop hiding behind that mask of false happiness... it was fun. Pushing you to your limit, wearing away your control until it snaps and you finally do something about all that aggression... it was really, really fun.”
Nakajima's smirk widened even further, resembling a Cheshire cat’s smile, "Ne, Shichijo, why do you feel so guilty over that incident if you hated me so damn much and I had pretty much asked for it?"
"I've never," Shichijo couldn't find the right word for a moment, "mistreated anyone I've ever had sex with. Sex play is one thing. But you were absent from classes the next day." Both Niwa and Saionji had gone to bang on Nakajima's door at the time, which certainly did wonders for Shichijo's guilt, especially when Nakajima refused to come out.
"You think this is worth it, because I lost control." As he spoke, Shichijo's fingers clenched into fists. Quickly, he let go. "Saa..." His brows creased for a moment and he felt disappointed, but he couldn't figure out why. He shook his head, reminding himself that Nakajima was playing a game.
It was just a game.
Maybe he'd believe himself if he repeated it long enough.
But he didn't. At the moment, it was all just foreign territory. There was a perfectly good reason why he wanted to kiss the living daylights out of Nakajima Hideaki, ‘but I love Kaoru-'
“True on all points,” Nakajima said, as if musing aloud. “But Shichijo, it is not mistreatment if I had goaded you into it, ne?” He leaned back against the arm of the couch, meeting Shichijo’s violet eyes steadily. “You seem to have a very set idea about how sex should like, but reality isn’t that straightforward. What you did to me that day, what we did to each other, it was part of ‘sex play’ as well.”
He exhaled, almost a sigh, “There are consequences to every game. For me, it was physical injury. For you, it’s this guilt complex that you suddenly have about me. My injuries had already healed; I had accepted the consequences, and yes, I think that it was worth it just to see you burn bright as you had, then.
”I like playing with fire.”
"...Why am I not surprised?" Shichijo's answer was an automatic, but his mind was whirling at the sudden turn his thoughts had gone. Besides feeling that loving Saionji while lusting after Nakajima was incredibly wrong, how exactly did he just manage to link...
He pulled away suddenly, looking to the far wall, not really seeing the books on the shelves, or anything for that matter. 'Oh my god, I'm stupid.'
Nakajima stood up, starting to dress again without looking at his rival. That look in Shichijo's eyes... he recognized it all right. Part of him was glad that Shichijo finally realized his feelings for Saionji, while the other part... the other part was inconsequential. He shoved those feelings away and locked them up tightly.
He finished buttoning his shirt before stepping into Shichijo's line of sight. Sighing again, this time sounding frustrated, he said, "I dislike it when someone I'm going to fuck is so obviously thinking about someone. Go to Saionji already. Stop pining over him and wasting my time." He picked up his vest and blazer, draping them over his shoulders loosely before addressing Shichijo again, "And this time, have the guts to tell him that you're in love with him instead of being a coward and taking your aggression out on me."
Shichijo jerked back, blinking rapidly, startled when Nakajima walked in front of him. He still looked guilty. No wait, more so. He stood up and took a half step closer before he stopped himself, and backed up again before turning towards the clothes he placed on the table.
"Sorry," came out hurriedly. Getting dressed and leaving would be the smartest thing to do. He had to get away from Nakajima, and find Saionji, and tell him before he got so bloody lost and confused -
How could he even entertain the thought that he might be in love with Nakajima Hideaki?!
Nakajima closed his eyes and turned away, walking back to his seat behind the Student Council desk. He watched Shichijo leave the room as if he was being chased through shuttered eyes before allowing his lips to quirk into a small, wry smirk.
Well, at least that portion of stupidity was taken care of. Hopefully, that was.
Nakajima reminded himself to congratulate Shichijo and Saionji later. They deserved it.
***
Shichijo locked himself in one of the library's study rooms. He had to calm down. Had to relax, and clear his head. 'This is insane,' he told himself. 'You don't fall for someone you hate just because you had sex with them. And it was bad sex.' It felt so good. 'Bad sex!'
He crumpled to the floor, his back sliding down the door.
'I hurt him so much that he bled. I made him bleed.' Although Nakajima repeatedly said he didn't care about the pain, and that he practically asked for it, 'I should have stopped myself before I...'
Except.
It took two to play this game of theirs: Nakajima took it as a natural progression from their digital wars, and then Shichijo upped the ante in return. The problem wasn't really that he fell for the upperclassman because Nakajima was a good fuck. Rather, they'd always been able to meet each other on the logic level, if not intelligence. Nakajima's intelligence was closer to Saionji's actually.
Shichijo laughed dryly. 'I like smart people.' Well, it certainly didn't explain his passing interest in Keita; he cracked up.
'Ah, it's about time I get back to Kaoru. He'd wonder why I've been gone for so long, and empty handed too.' Shichijo chuckled, but his face, even his eyes, lost expression as he realized he had to return to the Student Council room once more. With a quiet sigh, he walked back to the room and knocked again before entering.
When he saw Nakajima again, it drew a sad smile to his lips. "Are there any new documents for the Treasury, by any chance?"
Nakajima wondered what the hell could have brought that pained look in Shichijo's eyes, but only for a moment. The answer was obvious enough. He heaved a long sigh, dragging a hand through his hair as he stood. Taking the stack of papers from the corner of his desk, he walked forward until he was inches in front of Shichijo again. He resisted the urge to smack the other boy upside the head with the papers; he was not Saionji.
"Sometimes I wonder if stupidity is contagious," he said, tone almost mild. "Look, Shichijo, you're not going to solve your problems with Saionji by looking at me with those eyes." He slammed the papers onto Shichijo's hand. "Take these to the Treasury. Stay there. Tell him." His tone broached no argument.
He nearly stomped towards the door, yanking it open with unnecessary force before grabbing Shichijo's collar, half-dragging the other boy towards the door. "Get out. I don't want a rival who is so bloody pathetic as to be too cowardly to tell the person he had loved all his fucking life that he loves him. Especially since Saionji loves you back. Believe me; I know. He told me himself." He rolled his eyes, as if to say 'Though why didn't he tell you, I have no clue.'
"Now go solve this stupid situation of yours before I lock the both of you in a closet." With that, he slammed the door close.
‘Was that a big enough shove?’ He wondered.
After a second of staring at the closed door, Shichijo chuckled. He had the documents in his arms. He could leave, but at the same time, he couldn't. He stood rooted to the floor outside, trying to contain himself but it was just too much.
'Kaoru told Nakajima that he loves me? And he didn't tell me himself? And right now, I can't even figure out how I can love them both?'
Shichijo was so happy, so sad. 'So bloody pathetic.'
"Arigato na, Nakajima," he said with mirth, raising his voice slightly to let it travel through the door. "I'll tell him..." He closed his eyes, his smile falling. "I'll tell him everything."
'Including the fact that... I think I love you, too.'
End
Continued in Surfacing: Match
- a sequel to Game
Authors: kagayachou and the_dw
Characters/Pairings: Shichijo/Nakajima, Shichijo/Saionji implied
Rating: R
Words: 3587
Summary: The aftermath of Game: Shichijo had gone too far, and emotions are complicated. Are Shichijo and Nakajima still playing the same game now?
Three weeks. It'd been three weeks since Nakajima said, "Shichijo. You're mine," and the silver-haired boy couldn't simply delete his memories of what happened thereafter. Especially not when the words physically hurt. Even in thought. And that feeling of being inside Nakajima was so visceral; Shichijo could almost taste him in his sleep.
He wanted to touch his rival again; what was wrong with him?
The gods must have been listening when he walked into the Student Council room to collect new documents for the Treasury's approval, and found that Niwa had played hooky again.
Nakajima looked up from his desk, raising an eyebrow when he saw Shichijo lock the door. He leaned back against his seat, steepling his fingers and crossing his legs. Well, it seemed that Shichijo had finally stopped avoiding him and asking Saionji to come over to collect the documents. Nakajima still ached from their... activities a week ago, and now he had taken to carrying lubricant everywhere with him. Just in case.
"You aren't just here for the paperwork, are you?" He drawled. Shichijo's eyes were very expressive.
They were concerned, relieved... some strange mix of both, and almost frightened at the same time. Shichijo's eyes searched Nakajima's face and he couldn't quite believe what he was seeing. The other boy looked...all right. Like nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them. Like what they'd done was only to be expected.
He took a step closer to the seated boy. And another step. And another. Until he could lean over him, and cup his cheek. Just stare into his eyes for a moment.
'You're not hurt? Not at all affected?'
"Nakajima..."
Nakajima's eyes widened for a moment before he closed them, pushing his chair further back and standing up. He chuckled below his breath, rather amused at the guilt and even worry he saw in Shichijo's eyes.
"As you can see, I'm perfectly fine," his lips twisted into a wry smirk. "I wouldn't say that I wasn’t injured, but what damage there is has long since healed." ‘But not entirely’, a small voice reminded him. Nakajima pushed it to the very corner of his mind. "I'm not that fragile."
He walked around the desk, stopping just beside Shichijo, leaning a hip against his own desk as he studied the other boy coolly. "Why, are you feeling guilty now?" He let his amusement slip into his voice.
Shichijo pulled his hand back to his side, fingers curled slightly, but not quite. Nakajima's amusement made him want to punch him, so he forced himself to relax. Dropping his eyes to the table, as if its surface was the most fascinating thing in the world, he replied quietly.
"I hadn't meant to go that far."
"I know," Nakajima said, matter-of-factly. "In fact, you wouldn't even have fucked me if I hadn't goaded you into it."
He reached forward and tilted Shichijo's chin up so that those purple eyes are facing him. "If you feel guilty over it, then you're an idiot. I knew what I was doing; it was consensual. Hell, I told you to come to me if you wanted more." Shrugging, he changed the subject, "Besides, I'm your rival. You hate me, don't you?"
Still smirking, he tilted his head to the side in half-curiosity and half to mock Shichijo, "So why are you apologizing?"
"Why?" Shichijo gaped. He stepped back, away from the touch. "You were bleeding; I... I should have known better than that."
He couldn't reconcile how calm Nakajima was, to how horrified Iwai had looked. He hadn't even touched Iwai, and the artist was dead scared of him, if not oddly fascinated - staring at him curiously when he wasn't supposedly looking. Yet Nakajima was willing to let it happen. Again!
Finally, Shichijo settled with, "I can do better than that."
"Angry people are senseless people," Nakajima commented, almost idly. "You couldn't have known better because you knew nothing at the time. It's so nice to know that I still can have that effect on people."
Stepping forward until they were less than an inch apart, he said, "I might have been bleeding, but I gave it back as good as it could get. Pain means nothing to me. It was fun; just another extension of the game we usually play." He shook his head, grinning slightly. "Really, if you're so vanilla about sex, how can you actually 'do better than that'?"
Goading Shichijo was solidifying its place as one of his hobbies. Now that the other boy wasn't hiding his emotions behind a false smile, it had become so much fun.
Shichijo closed his eyes briefly, but it was in frustration. Yes, he admitted Nakajima had an effect on him. Yes, he'd acted on spite, on anger. He'd been so stupid, and here... he wanted to do it again.
"I like vanilla," he gritted out. Lifting a hand to the back of Nakajima's neck and another to his hip, Shichijo closed the distance between them, and licked the other's boy's bottom lip, gently, a precursor to a thorough kiss.
Nakajima kissed back, wrapping an arm around Shichijo's waist and pulling the silver-haired boy even closer, their groins pressed against each other. He smirked into the kiss, running his free hand through Shichijo's hair, tugging at the ends slightly. He pulled away a little, meeting violet eyes with teasing blue ones.
"Then show me how interesting it can be. That's what you came for, isn't it?"
A whisper. "Yes." Another kiss. Shichijo nodded towards the chair Nakajima had occupied when he'd entered the room, the one Niwa sat in when he was actually present. "Sit down, and I'll show you." He wanted to kiss every part of Nakajima that he'd hurt. The bruises, the cuts where his nails dug too deeply... everywhere.
Nakajima shook his head, laughing lowly. He kissed Shichijo again, pulling the other boy close as he slowly stepped backwards, finally sitting down hard on the couch in the Student Council office. He barely managed to hide a wince at the impact, choosing to start unbuttoning Shichijo's pants with swift fingers, looking up to his rival through his lashes.
"Here is so much more convenient, don't you think?"
Shichijo didn't want to think. He had caught sight of the pained expression that flickered over Nakajima's face, and although he knew that the other boy didn't want to hear any apologies from him, he couldn't help but kneel at his feet and kiss him deeply, to make up for what he'd done.
What could Nakajima do but to kiss back? On one hand, he was rather annoyed by Shichijo's stupidity. The other boy was like Saionji, really, given how stupid they were on certain issues and how Nakajima couldn't get a word in their head. On the other, he was simply amused that despite their rivalry and Shichijo's hatred towards him, Shichijo still felt as if he needed Nakajima to forgive him.
He focused on those two emotions and locked away the (conflicting) others, letting his arm go around Shichijo's neck as they kissed slowly. It wasn't a spar any more, but a dance, and Nakajima was slightly confused over just what had changed.
Breaking the kiss, he said, "You have a guilt complex. I told you that I was a very willing participant, didn't I? Stop treating me as if I will break."
"I'm not," Shichijo didn't put much behind the simple protest. Rather, he concentrated on undoing Nakajima's tie and then his pants. But since his hands were busy, he leaned closer... to undo the buttons of the other boy's shirt with his teeth and tongue.
Nakajima's head dropped backwards, humming low in his throat at the sensations running up and down his spine. He spread his legs a little wider giving Shichijo more space to maneuver even as he slipped his rival's blazer and vest off his shoulders, hands dropping down to unknot the tie.
"I can't reach you properly like this," he said, voice slow and thick like honey. He shrugged off his shirt when it was finally off, dropping his glasses onto the floor. "Stop kneeling in front me of like you're asking for penance and I might just believe you."
"Would you?" Shichijo raised any eyebrow at him, a faint shadow of a smile upon his lips. "No... If you really did that you'd be far too naive." He rose to his feet, pulling his blazer and vest off to place them, loosely folded, over one of the computer tables. His shirt and tie soon joined the pile.
He sat down by Nakajima when he returned to the couch, and murmured, "I'll be gentle this time... because I can." It wasn't so much that he was asking for penance, but he wanted... he wasn't sure what he wanted exactly. He reached out, letting a hand wander down Hide's chest. He kissed the other boy's shoulder, his neck, his throat. Lapped at a bruise that hadn't quite faded. If he looked hard enough, Shichijo supposed he'd be able to make out teeth marks.
"What if I don't want you to be gentle?" He murmured, almost absent-mindedly. How far would Shichijo go with his 'gentle' treatment, this time? And what would Nakajima need to do to break his control?
Violet eyes flickered over blue. "Tough." He kissed down Nakajima's neck to the hollow of his throat as he continued, "You'll have to make me."
"Hmm," Nakajima made a pleased noise low in his throat as Shichijo found one of his erogenous spots, eyes fluttering half-shut, hands at his side as he simply laid back and enjoy the treatment. But he wasn't one to be inactive for long.
He smirked lazily, "Is that a challenge?"
Shichijo nuzzled; it was a slight shake of his head. "I wanted you to leave me alone." He dipped his head down and took his mouth to one of Nakajima's nipples, splaying his hand over his chest to find the other one between his fingers, gently, gently teasing those nipples erect.
"I did leave you alone," Nakajima pointed out, his voice barely above a whisper as he arched his body slightly upwards. "You're the one who sought me out this time, and you used past tense..." he smirked, opening his eyes to meet Shichijo's violet ones.
"Did you find my company more enthralling after you fucked me?"
Shichijo seemed to be very serious about being gentle; small frissons of pleasures were spreading throughout his body from where Shichijo had touched, and his body was heating up slowly, so slowly. But this could be interesting, in its own way.
Perhaps Shichijo wanted to make him beg.
Shichijo wanted to touch every part of Nakajima that he'd touched before, and more. It was faintly as though the silver-haired boy thought to kiss his wounds and thus heal them, or something quaintly childish like that.
But then, Shichijo paused, looked at him - just a tad hesitant at the lack of... reciprocation. "Do you really want this?"
Nakajima simply stared at him for a moment. He blinked.
The question was genuine; that uncertain look in those clear violet eyes told him so.
Oh this was just too rich. Nakajima's lips twitched, and he laughed, deep chuckles that he tried to muffle with his hand. He turned away, eyes dancing with laughter as he tried to calm himself to explain.
He reached downwards, kissing Shichijo full on the lips, nibbling on his rival's bottom lip and coaxing his mouth open, dominating the kiss. He closed his eyes, as much to hide his amusement as to concentrate on the kiss, wanting to wring as much pleasure from the other boy as possible. Thrusting his hips up a little, he let his erection rub against Shichijo's, causing moans to escape from both their lips.
He eventually pulled away, a hand in Shichijo's hair to hold his gaze steady as they looked at each other for moment. "I like you better when you're being aggressive," Nakajima said, amused. "If I don't want this, Shichijo, then I would've kicked your ass out of the door a long time ago. It's impossible to force me to do anything I don't want to."
He pushed the other boy lightly away, smirking still. "Now, weren't you trying to show me something?"
Shichijo had a haunted look in his eyes. Nakajima was laughing, truly amused, while Shichijo himself was confused. "Did you want me to fuck you like that?" He thought of last week, when he was with Nakajima, out in the corridor. The blood, the sweat, the semen... "What are you, a masochist?"
Nakajima shrugged, "Not really. I don't care much for the pain, but..." He pressed two fingers under Shichijo's chin, tilting the other boy's head towards him, an amused smirk on his lips. "We were playing a game all along, you see, and what happened then was just an extension of it." The smirk widened.
"An extension that I enjoyed very, very much. To see you lose control like that, to stop hiding behind that mask of false happiness... it was fun. Pushing you to your limit, wearing away your control until it snaps and you finally do something about all that aggression... it was really, really fun.”
Nakajima's smirk widened even further, resembling a Cheshire cat’s smile, "Ne, Shichijo, why do you feel so guilty over that incident if you hated me so damn much and I had pretty much asked for it?"
"I've never," Shichijo couldn't find the right word for a moment, "mistreated anyone I've ever had sex with. Sex play is one thing. But you were absent from classes the next day." Both Niwa and Saionji had gone to bang on Nakajima's door at the time, which certainly did wonders for Shichijo's guilt, especially when Nakajima refused to come out.
"You think this is worth it, because I lost control." As he spoke, Shichijo's fingers clenched into fists. Quickly, he let go. "Saa..." His brows creased for a moment and he felt disappointed, but he couldn't figure out why. He shook his head, reminding himself that Nakajima was playing a game.
It was just a game.
Maybe he'd believe himself if he repeated it long enough.
But he didn't. At the moment, it was all just foreign territory. There was a perfectly good reason why he wanted to kiss the living daylights out of Nakajima Hideaki, ‘but I love Kaoru-'
“True on all points,” Nakajima said, as if musing aloud. “But Shichijo, it is not mistreatment if I had goaded you into it, ne?” He leaned back against the arm of the couch, meeting Shichijo’s violet eyes steadily. “You seem to have a very set idea about how sex should like, but reality isn’t that straightforward. What you did to me that day, what we did to each other, it was part of ‘sex play’ as well.”
He exhaled, almost a sigh, “There are consequences to every game. For me, it was physical injury. For you, it’s this guilt complex that you suddenly have about me. My injuries had already healed; I had accepted the consequences, and yes, I think that it was worth it just to see you burn bright as you had, then.
”I like playing with fire.”
"...Why am I not surprised?" Shichijo's answer was an automatic, but his mind was whirling at the sudden turn his thoughts had gone. Besides feeling that loving Saionji while lusting after Nakajima was incredibly wrong, how exactly did he just manage to link...
He pulled away suddenly, looking to the far wall, not really seeing the books on the shelves, or anything for that matter. 'Oh my god, I'm stupid.'
Nakajima stood up, starting to dress again without looking at his rival. That look in Shichijo's eyes... he recognized it all right. Part of him was glad that Shichijo finally realized his feelings for Saionji, while the other part... the other part was inconsequential. He shoved those feelings away and locked them up tightly.
He finished buttoning his shirt before stepping into Shichijo's line of sight. Sighing again, this time sounding frustrated, he said, "I dislike it when someone I'm going to fuck is so obviously thinking about someone. Go to Saionji already. Stop pining over him and wasting my time." He picked up his vest and blazer, draping them over his shoulders loosely before addressing Shichijo again, "And this time, have the guts to tell him that you're in love with him instead of being a coward and taking your aggression out on me."
Shichijo jerked back, blinking rapidly, startled when Nakajima walked in front of him. He still looked guilty. No wait, more so. He stood up and took a half step closer before he stopped himself, and backed up again before turning towards the clothes he placed on the table.
"Sorry," came out hurriedly. Getting dressed and leaving would be the smartest thing to do. He had to get away from Nakajima, and find Saionji, and tell him before he got so bloody lost and confused -
How could he even entertain the thought that he might be in love with Nakajima Hideaki?!
Nakajima closed his eyes and turned away, walking back to his seat behind the Student Council desk. He watched Shichijo leave the room as if he was being chased through shuttered eyes before allowing his lips to quirk into a small, wry smirk.
Well, at least that portion of stupidity was taken care of. Hopefully, that was.
Nakajima reminded himself to congratulate Shichijo and Saionji later. They deserved it.
***
Shichijo locked himself in one of the library's study rooms. He had to calm down. Had to relax, and clear his head. 'This is insane,' he told himself. 'You don't fall for someone you hate just because you had sex with them. And it was bad sex.' It felt so good. 'Bad sex!'
He crumpled to the floor, his back sliding down the door.
'I hurt him so much that he bled. I made him bleed.' Although Nakajima repeatedly said he didn't care about the pain, and that he practically asked for it, 'I should have stopped myself before I...'
Except.
It took two to play this game of theirs: Nakajima took it as a natural progression from their digital wars, and then Shichijo upped the ante in return. The problem wasn't really that he fell for the upperclassman because Nakajima was a good fuck. Rather, they'd always been able to meet each other on the logic level, if not intelligence. Nakajima's intelligence was closer to Saionji's actually.
Shichijo laughed dryly. 'I like smart people.' Well, it certainly didn't explain his passing interest in Keita; he cracked up.
'Ah, it's about time I get back to Kaoru. He'd wonder why I've been gone for so long, and empty handed too.' Shichijo chuckled, but his face, even his eyes, lost expression as he realized he had to return to the Student Council room once more. With a quiet sigh, he walked back to the room and knocked again before entering.
When he saw Nakajima again, it drew a sad smile to his lips. "Are there any new documents for the Treasury, by any chance?"
Nakajima wondered what the hell could have brought that pained look in Shichijo's eyes, but only for a moment. The answer was obvious enough. He heaved a long sigh, dragging a hand through his hair as he stood. Taking the stack of papers from the corner of his desk, he walked forward until he was inches in front of Shichijo again. He resisted the urge to smack the other boy upside the head with the papers; he was not Saionji.
"Sometimes I wonder if stupidity is contagious," he said, tone almost mild. "Look, Shichijo, you're not going to solve your problems with Saionji by looking at me with those eyes." He slammed the papers onto Shichijo's hand. "Take these to the Treasury. Stay there. Tell him." His tone broached no argument.
He nearly stomped towards the door, yanking it open with unnecessary force before grabbing Shichijo's collar, half-dragging the other boy towards the door. "Get out. I don't want a rival who is so bloody pathetic as to be too cowardly to tell the person he had loved all his fucking life that he loves him. Especially since Saionji loves you back. Believe me; I know. He told me himself." He rolled his eyes, as if to say 'Though why didn't he tell you, I have no clue.'
"Now go solve this stupid situation of yours before I lock the both of you in a closet." With that, he slammed the door close.
‘Was that a big enough shove?’ He wondered.
After a second of staring at the closed door, Shichijo chuckled. He had the documents in his arms. He could leave, but at the same time, he couldn't. He stood rooted to the floor outside, trying to contain himself but it was just too much.
'Kaoru told Nakajima that he loves me? And he didn't tell me himself? And right now, I can't even figure out how I can love them both?'
Shichijo was so happy, so sad. 'So bloody pathetic.'
"Arigato na, Nakajima," he said with mirth, raising his voice slightly to let it travel through the door. "I'll tell him..." He closed his eyes, his smile falling. "I'll tell him everything."
'Including the fact that... I think I love you, too.'
End
Continued in Surfacing: Match