mental training, my ass
For chikyu_star ♥♥ Supposed to be for her birthday but I fail and totally forgot so fffff sorry bb ;A; And this was... supposed to be shorter but it totally evolved into a monster but I hope you like anyway ♥♥
Enjoy? XD; ♥
Title: Mental Training, My Ass
Author: ieatchu / shikanashi_kk
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,600 +
Pairing: Shishido Ryou x Ohtori Choutarou, Hyotei characters (microscopic OshiAto and HiyoGaku)
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis and all of its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: Hyotei regulars play strip ping pong, a sport that makes Shishido hate the world, Oshitari and Atobe evil, Gakuto lose horribly, Hiyoshi gekokujou, and Choutarou admit something that wasn't supposed to be admitted.
Mental Training, My Ass
They had done it by picking strips of paper from a hat. Shishido's hat, to be exact, which he refused to give at first because did they seriously think that he was just going to give his hat up to Atobe? Or to anyone else for that matter? Okay, maybe Choutarou, but the kid would never take his hat against his will anyway. Bless his soul.
Instead, Choutarou asked for it.
With a shy smile and a blink of his eyes.
Works like magic, Oshitari always says. Just a pity that Ohtori himself hasn't realized it.
(As if he'll even know how to USE it properly -- the kid's a saint!, Gakuto would reply.)
Shishido gave his hat up without a fight, but with a whole lot of grumbling and grunting which he stopped immediately when Choutarou stuttered a sheepish apology.
(Oshitari smirked. Works like magic.)
This was all Atobe's fault, actually. He was probably struck by one of his random ideas again and, being as loaded as he is, suddenly announced that they were all going to the mountains to stay in a hot spring that their family owned for the whole two-day weekend. It was all to unwind from the stress of exams and the last tournament, and for some team recreation and bonding (the word made Shishido cringe.), and while Shishido had no problems (because honestly, who can say no to hot springs and free accomodation which means free food?), he was starting to doubt his decision to go (not that he had much of a choice anyway.) because trust Oshitari to make everything seem so fucking perverse.
Atobe did not raise even a fraction of his perfectly fine eyebrow when he saw the name of Shishido's to-be opponent on the strip of paper. "Ohtori." These two always somehow managed to get together every single time after all. If Ore-sama became surprised every time it happened, it would cause stress which will lead to wrinkles. The thought itself is blasphemy.
The order was something like this:
Table 1
Jiroh vs. Kabaji
Table 2
Atobe vs. Oshitari
Table 3
Gakuto vs. Hiyoshi
Table 4
Shishido vs. Choutarou
Shishido's and Choutarou's fists had met, a smile on their lips and a challenge in their eyes. After all, ping pong was just like tennis, only bit-sized.
At least, until Oshitari pushed his glasses up further the bridge of his nose with a lazy smirk and announced that, "We'll be playing strip ping-pong."
Gakuto had turned red, flustered and stuttering out a "Yuushi, you pervert!" but Atobe had just jutted his hip out in his royal way, and smirked. "It's to heighten the tension. It's good for mental training. Na, Kabaji?"
"Usu."
Shishido and Gakuto's voices were in unison.
"MENTAL TRAINING, MY ASS."
Hiyoshi flexed his wrists, red on his cheeks. Funny. He suddenly suddenly felt more nervous than before. "Gekokujou."
"To hell with this!" Shishido declared, cheeks flaring, which darkened even more when he accidentally managed to glimpse at the predicament of his doubles parter.
Choutarou was staring at the floor, fidgeting in his place, cheeks pink, and eyes darting from side to side. Shishido kind of hated Oshitari right now for making Choutarou so uncomfortable. The pervert.
"We're not playing some hentai game! Let's go, Choutarou!"
"E-eh?" Startled, Choutarou almost jumped. "U-uhn! H-hai, Shishido-san!"
"Oh?" Oshitari drawled out, challenging and confident. A sly smirk was on his lips. "Not man enough, Shishido?"
Shishido stopped dead in his tracks.
And that was how they ended up in this situation. It was like they were being... forced to play ping pong by some unseen audience or something.
A white blur whizzed past Shishido's cheek. He gaped at Choutarou. Choutarou, face still rather pink, smiled at him cheekily.
So, he wasn't going to back down, huh?
(Shishido liked that part about him. Even though he liked all the parts about him. Which is not the point.)
Well, Shishido wasn't going to either.
Shishido all but tore off his sock from his feet.
Choutarou almost laughed at his sempai's choice of cloth.
And with good reason too.
Two tables over, with Oshitari and Atobe hitting balls and sending them to the other court as if they weren't even missing a heartbeat, it was like they were sending out lightning bolts instead of ping pong balls.
First point went to Oshitari. He looked very proud of himself.
Atobe looked affronted. With a stubborn look, he boldly took off his shirt, feeling satisfied at Oshitari's surprised look.
The next point went to Atobe, but they all knew that Oshitari lost on purpsoe so that he could take off his shirt as well, in the same bold manner that Atobe did.
Shishido muttered about something like idiots.
Table 1 wasn't having much action, though Shishido figured that he would have much rather preferred that.
Jiroh was draped over the table, snoring and drooling, with Kabaji standing like a stone on the other side, a paddle in one hand and a ball in the other. Kabaji didn't have the heart to wake up his opponent. Bless his soul too. (But Choutarou's more.)
Gakuto was... losing horribly. He was only in his boxers now and five minutes hadn't even passed. He was red up to his ears and all around his neck and Hiyoshi was looking very proud of himself and at his gekokujou.
"Gekokujou, my ass," Gakuto muttered, flustered and indignant, "I'LL GEKOKUJOU YOUR ASS IN REAL TENNIS. COME ON, YOU AND ME. ONE SET MATCH. RIGHT NOW."
Hiyoshi whistled innocently. "But you still have your boxers on, sempai. The game's not done yet."
"...Fuck you, Hiyoshi."
Ten minutes later, and Shishido and Choutarou have lost both their socks. They were having... fun, really. No, not because of the strip thing. (You should be ashamed.) Everything was just a whole lot more fun when done with each other (and each other only because Shishido wasn't exactly crazy with eating hamburgers with Seigaku's Inui) and table tennis was no exception. (Strip or not. But preferrably not.)
Kabaji had given up and just hoisted Jiroh on his back, watching Atobe's match.
Until Atobe and Oshitari had taken off both their shorts, and then both of their socks, and had ended up in their boxers.
They both wanted to avoid humiliation, so they called it a truce.
Gakuto was still busy insulting Hiyoshi and trying to find out a way to rile him up enough so that the second year will play a lawn tennis match with him instead. Hiyoshi kept calm. (They both knew that once the ball was put into play, Gakuto would lose his boxers.
Hiyoshi was a very merciful person.)
Fifteen minutes later, Shishido and Choutarou were still playing heatedly. Only their socks have been discarded, and everyone in the room were now crowding around them (okay, except for Gakuto and Hiyoshi) and just basically making them even more flustered than before.
"Shishido, if you were a man, you would have taken off your shorts first. Tsktsktsk."
Shishido growled. "Fuck you, Atobe, you took off your shirt first."
"You took off your socks," retaliated their captain.
Shishido had nothing to say to that.
"Ohtori-kun?"
"Y-yes, uhm, Oshitari-sempai?" Choutarou mumbled, without looking, because he was still busy trying to return the hits that Shishido was sending at him.
This was hard, he realized, trying to listen to someone while you're trying your best not to lose a point (and clothes). If Choutarou wasn't careful, he might blank out so he really tried to concentrate. After all, he liked to believe that he was fairly good at multi-tasking.
"I believe you'd be delighted to know that Shishido has boxers with Garfield on them."
"Yes, I already know that, sempai."
"And the one with the Doraemon?"
"Yes."
"He's wearing those right now."
"What? No, he's wearing the Gar ---"
Choutarou squeaked. So did Shishido.
Point for Choutarou but that was hardly the first thing on his mind right now.
The room was deathly silent. Even Gakuto had stopped yelling to stare at them.
"A-ah, I mean, uhm. W-what did you say again, Oshitari-sempai? I wasn't listening properly and, and --" Choutarou flushed, not looking at Shishido. "Can you repeat that?"
Oshitari's grin told Choutarou no, I don't have to.
Atobe's grin was of massive proportions. (As massive as it could be without ruining Atobe's beauty.) "Take off your shorts, Shishido. You lost a point."
Shishido was beet red, and he glared at Atobe, promising death. He glared at Oshitari too, but he promised torture. He took off his shorts.
Kabaji stared.
Jiroh's snoring hitched a beat.
Gakuto burst into laughter.
Even Hiyoshi had to hide his wicked grin behind his hand.
"Hmm," Oshitari drawled out, enjoying every moment of this. "Garfield."
"Ohtori," Atobe continued, amusement on his face. "Can I ask how you know of this?"
Choutarou looked torn, and he swallowed, peeking at his captain through his bangs with a nervous smile. "Can I refuse?"
If Shishido wasn't dying of embarrassment here, he'd have died from blood loss. Choutarou's cute was dangerous. Time to distract himself.
He growled. "Let's get on with the game, Choutarou! And you two, stop fucking around!"
Choutarou jumped, immediately going into his position, but he still didn't have the courage to look up in Shishido's direction.
Shishido was annoyed by that. This was all Oshitari and Atobe's fault. Somehow, he felt that some sort of maiming, or torturing, or just basically inflicting of SLOW, HORRIBLE PAIN should be done for him to feel justified.
Choutarou wasn't even looking at him anymore! That can't be!
Shishido served.
He wished that the ball would magically curve and hit Oshitari in the eye and break his glasses and bounce off to break Atobe's nose. Yeah, that would make him feel justified.
Another white blur whizzed past above his shoulder.
Shishido gaped.
Choutarou still wasn't looking at him.
Gakuto cackled. "If you're a man, Shishido, take off your boxers!"
Hiyoshi stared at him. "Who's a man, Gakuto-sempai?"
Gakuto pretended not to hear.
Shishido flipped him the bird. Not wanting to back down (even though he still had his shirt), he grabbed the waistband of his underwear.
It happened in slow motion.
Choutarou's head had whipped up and his eyes had widened. As if in reflex, he ran towards his doubles partner, arm outstretched and his mouth forming the words Shishido-san, dooon't ---.
As he ran to save his sempai from further humiliation, he unconsciously threw away his paddle. The paddle hit Jiroh with a loud thunk, and the blonde woke up with a start, before he groaned and moved his arms to grab at his head --- which meant that he let go of Kabaji's neck so Kabaji panicked because Jiroh was about to fall, so he bent a little forward so that Jiroh could lean against him but doing that also made him sidestep, to bump into Hiyoshi whose paddle also slipped from his fingers and hit Oshitari's head. Surprised, Oshitari moved to hold his aching head, but his hand hit Atobe's face instead, who then gasped at the blasphemy of having his face hit, and fell backwards into Gakuto.
Okay, cut the slow motion.
Choutarou took Shishido's hand and dragged him out of the room, leaving a heap of teenage boys piled on top of each other, groaning with pain.
Choutarou yelled behind him tearfully. "I'M SORRY, SEMPAI-TACHI!!!"
Shishido wasn't though, because oh, yeah, justice.
“Ch-Choutarou, h-hey! W-wait up a bit, where the hell are we going?”
Choutarou rounded the corner sharply, his fingers still enclosed around Shishido’s wrist, dragging him. Shishido almost tripped with that corner turn and he closed his eyes, waiting for the impact, but he just felt himself being turned more and more and more and then Choutarou stopped him by grabbing his shoulders firmly and shaking them.
Shishido thought he saw birds.
Looking past the birds, he realized that they somehow managed to return to their shared room. (It was actually Shishido's room. Choutarou's room was further down the hall but... yeah.)
“Shishido-san!”
“Huh, uh, huuuh?”
Not exactly the most coherent reply ever, but Choutarou didn’t mind.
“You can’t, Shishido-san!”
Shishido blinked the birds away from his eyes. “W-what?” He closed his eyes hard, before opening them again, trying to focus on Choutarou’s face. “I can’t what?”
Choutarou looked determined, even though he still looked flustered. (And probably panic-stricken at having caused so much trouble.)
“You can’t strip in front others!”
Shishido stared at him, long and hard. Choutarou stared back, meaning every word.
“I…” Shishido started, slowly, testing. “It’s strip ping pong.”
If possible, Choutarou’s cheeks darkened. “I-I know…” he started lamely, eyes darting to the side again. Shishido hated that. “B-but you still can’t!”
Shishido stared at him yet again. Choutarou didn’t have the courage to look at him in the eye anymore.
Then.
Shishido burst out laughing.
Choutarou flushed. He then realized that he had been clutching his sempai's shoulders the whole time, and he immediately let go, looking apologetic.
As soon as he did so, Shishido stepped forward and quickly invaded his personal space.
Choutarou didn't even need to think twice. He wrapped his arms around his sempai's body, kissing back just as hard.
Shishido was still laughing by the time they pulled away. Choutarou was even more embarrassed by that.
Finally letting out the last of his chuckles, Shishido punched his kohai's shoulder affectionately. "Only if you don't."
"I-I won't!" Choutarou immediately replied, a determined look on his face.
"Okay," Shishido grinned.
Then he realized that he had no shorts on.
Choutarou realized that too. He quickly pulled away, a blush on his cheeks. "S-sorry, Shishido-san!"
Shishido smirked. Such a saint, this kid. It made Shishido all worked up and dokidoki and all.
It was bad.
"A-ah!" Choutarou's head whipped up, and he looked miserable all over again, much like before when he let out that little freudian slip. "Sorry about the..." he glanced at his sempai's choice of underwear. "Garfield."
Shishido rolled his eyes. "They probably already knew about us anyway. You know those perverts."
Choutarou relaxed. "R-right." Then he stiffened again. A horrible realization came upon him, and he groaned, sitting back down on the bed with his burning face buried in his hands.
Shishido panicked. "What is it, Choutarou?"
Choutarou looked grief-stricken. "Shishido-san," he mourned, looking at his sempai with wet eyes and a morose expression. "Atobe-san won't make me run laps for this, will he? I should apologize, I guess... I mean, I didn't mean it, I think, I just... well... Actually, I don't know how that happened because I was just running towards Shishido-san but... they might think it's my fault since I ran away... and I don't want to run laps, Shishido-san..." he groaned.
Shishido couldn't help it.
He burst out laughing yet again.
The Hyotei regulars swore to never play ping pong ever again.
And since everyone was focused on Shishido at that time, no one noticed the paddle flying out of Choutarou's grip and hitting Jiroh's head and starting the chain reaction.
They all thought Jiroh was at fault.
But since Jiroh was Jiroh, and nobody had the balls to be mad at Jiroh, the Hyotei regulars returned back to Hyotei Gakuen, refreshed, and closer to each other than ever.
Not.
"Gekokujou, Gakuto-sempai."
"FUCK YOU, HIYOSHI. LET ME SEE YOU GEKOKUJOU ME IN REAL TENNIS. HA. YOU CAN'T."
"You slapped Ore-sama's face. Ore-sama is not happy."
"It was an accident though."
"If it was, you're not supposed to look happy because you just slapped Ore-sama's face!"
"Happy? Do I?"
"YES. NA, KABAJI?"
"Usu."
"Zzzz."
Choutarou grinned. "I'm glad we took this trip, don't you think so, Shishido-san?"
Shishido turned to him and gave him an exasperated look that clearly stated yeah, fucking right.
Enjoy? XD; ♥
Title: Mental Training, My Ass
Author: ieatchu / shikanashi_kk
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2,600 +
Pairing: Shishido Ryou x Ohtori Choutarou, Hyotei characters (microscopic OshiAto and HiyoGaku)
Disclaimer: Prince of Tennis and all of its characters do not belong to me.
Summary: Hyotei regulars play strip ping pong, a sport that makes Shishido hate the world, Oshitari and Atobe evil, Gakuto lose horribly, Hiyoshi gekokujou, and Choutarou admit something that wasn't supposed to be admitted.
Mental Training, My Ass
They had done it by picking strips of paper from a hat. Shishido's hat, to be exact, which he refused to give at first because did they seriously think that he was just going to give his hat up to Atobe? Or to anyone else for that matter? Okay, maybe Choutarou, but the kid would never take his hat against his will anyway. Bless his soul.
Instead, Choutarou asked for it.
With a shy smile and a blink of his eyes.
Works like magic, Oshitari always says. Just a pity that Ohtori himself hasn't realized it.
(As if he'll even know how to USE it properly -- the kid's a saint!, Gakuto would reply.)
Shishido gave his hat up without a fight, but with a whole lot of grumbling and grunting which he stopped immediately when Choutarou stuttered a sheepish apology.
(Oshitari smirked. Works like magic.)
This was all Atobe's fault, actually. He was probably struck by one of his random ideas again and, being as loaded as he is, suddenly announced that they were all going to the mountains to stay in a hot spring that their family owned for the whole two-day weekend. It was all to unwind from the stress of exams and the last tournament, and for some team recreation and bonding (the word made Shishido cringe.), and while Shishido had no problems (because honestly, who can say no to hot springs and free accomodation which means free food?), he was starting to doubt his decision to go (not that he had much of a choice anyway.) because trust Oshitari to make everything seem so fucking perverse.
Atobe did not raise even a fraction of his perfectly fine eyebrow when he saw the name of Shishido's to-be opponent on the strip of paper. "Ohtori." These two always somehow managed to get together every single time after all. If Ore-sama became surprised every time it happened, it would cause stress which will lead to wrinkles. The thought itself is blasphemy.
The order was something like this:
Table 1
Jiroh vs. Kabaji
Table 2
Atobe vs. Oshitari
Table 3
Gakuto vs. Hiyoshi
Table 4
Shishido vs. Choutarou
Shishido's and Choutarou's fists had met, a smile on their lips and a challenge in their eyes. After all, ping pong was just like tennis, only bit-sized.
At least, until Oshitari pushed his glasses up further the bridge of his nose with a lazy smirk and announced that, "We'll be playing strip ping-pong."
Gakuto had turned red, flustered and stuttering out a "Yuushi, you pervert!" but Atobe had just jutted his hip out in his royal way, and smirked. "It's to heighten the tension. It's good for mental training. Na, Kabaji?"
"Usu."
Shishido and Gakuto's voices were in unison.
"MENTAL TRAINING, MY ASS."
Hiyoshi flexed his wrists, red on his cheeks. Funny. He suddenly suddenly felt more nervous than before. "Gekokujou."
"To hell with this!" Shishido declared, cheeks flaring, which darkened even more when he accidentally managed to glimpse at the predicament of his doubles parter.
Choutarou was staring at the floor, fidgeting in his place, cheeks pink, and eyes darting from side to side. Shishido kind of hated Oshitari right now for making Choutarou so uncomfortable. The pervert.
"We're not playing some hentai game! Let's go, Choutarou!"
"E-eh?" Startled, Choutarou almost jumped. "U-uhn! H-hai, Shishido-san!"
"Oh?" Oshitari drawled out, challenging and confident. A sly smirk was on his lips. "Not man enough, Shishido?"
Shishido stopped dead in his tracks.
And that was how they ended up in this situation. It was like they were being... forced to play ping pong by some unseen audience or something.
A white blur whizzed past Shishido's cheek. He gaped at Choutarou. Choutarou, face still rather pink, smiled at him cheekily.
So, he wasn't going to back down, huh?
(Shishido liked that part about him. Even though he liked all the parts about him. Which is not the point.)
Well, Shishido wasn't going to either.
Shishido all but tore off his sock from his feet.
Choutarou almost laughed at his sempai's choice of cloth.
And with good reason too.
Two tables over, with Oshitari and Atobe hitting balls and sending them to the other court as if they weren't even missing a heartbeat, it was like they were sending out lightning bolts instead of ping pong balls.
First point went to Oshitari. He looked very proud of himself.
Atobe looked affronted. With a stubborn look, he boldly took off his shirt, feeling satisfied at Oshitari's surprised look.
The next point went to Atobe, but they all knew that Oshitari lost on purpsoe so that he could take off his shirt as well, in the same bold manner that Atobe did.
Shishido muttered about something like idiots.
Table 1 wasn't having much action, though Shishido figured that he would have much rather preferred that.
Jiroh was draped over the table, snoring and drooling, with Kabaji standing like a stone on the other side, a paddle in one hand and a ball in the other. Kabaji didn't have the heart to wake up his opponent. Bless his soul too. (But Choutarou's more.)
Gakuto was... losing horribly. He was only in his boxers now and five minutes hadn't even passed. He was red up to his ears and all around his neck and Hiyoshi was looking very proud of himself and at his gekokujou.
"Gekokujou, my ass," Gakuto muttered, flustered and indignant, "I'LL GEKOKUJOU YOUR ASS IN REAL TENNIS. COME ON, YOU AND ME. ONE SET MATCH. RIGHT NOW."
Hiyoshi whistled innocently. "But you still have your boxers on, sempai. The game's not done yet."
"...Fuck you, Hiyoshi."
Ten minutes later, and Shishido and Choutarou have lost both their socks. They were having... fun, really. No, not because of the strip thing. (You should be ashamed.) Everything was just a whole lot more fun when done with each other (and each other only because Shishido wasn't exactly crazy with eating hamburgers with Seigaku's Inui) and table tennis was no exception. (Strip or not. But preferrably not.)
Kabaji had given up and just hoisted Jiroh on his back, watching Atobe's match.
Until Atobe and Oshitari had taken off both their shorts, and then both of their socks, and had ended up in their boxers.
They both wanted to avoid humiliation, so they called it a truce.
Gakuto was still busy insulting Hiyoshi and trying to find out a way to rile him up enough so that the second year will play a lawn tennis match with him instead. Hiyoshi kept calm. (They both knew that once the ball was put into play, Gakuto would lose his boxers.
Hiyoshi was a very merciful person.)
Fifteen minutes later, Shishido and Choutarou were still playing heatedly. Only their socks have been discarded, and everyone in the room were now crowding around them (okay, except for Gakuto and Hiyoshi) and just basically making them even more flustered than before.
"Shishido, if you were a man, you would have taken off your shorts first. Tsktsktsk."
Shishido growled. "Fuck you, Atobe, you took off your shirt first."
"You took off your socks," retaliated their captain.
Shishido had nothing to say to that.
"Ohtori-kun?"
"Y-yes, uhm, Oshitari-sempai?" Choutarou mumbled, without looking, because he was still busy trying to return the hits that Shishido was sending at him.
This was hard, he realized, trying to listen to someone while you're trying your best not to lose a point (and clothes). If Choutarou wasn't careful, he might blank out so he really tried to concentrate. After all, he liked to believe that he was fairly good at multi-tasking.
"I believe you'd be delighted to know that Shishido has boxers with Garfield on them."
"Yes, I already know that, sempai."
"And the one with the Doraemon?"
"Yes."
"He's wearing those right now."
"What? No, he's wearing the Gar ---"
Choutarou squeaked. So did Shishido.
Point for Choutarou but that was hardly the first thing on his mind right now.
The room was deathly silent. Even Gakuto had stopped yelling to stare at them.
"A-ah, I mean, uhm. W-what did you say again, Oshitari-sempai? I wasn't listening properly and, and --" Choutarou flushed, not looking at Shishido. "Can you repeat that?"
Oshitari's grin told Choutarou no, I don't have to.
Atobe's grin was of massive proportions. (As massive as it could be without ruining Atobe's beauty.) "Take off your shorts, Shishido. You lost a point."
Shishido was beet red, and he glared at Atobe, promising death. He glared at Oshitari too, but he promised torture. He took off his shorts.
Kabaji stared.
Jiroh's snoring hitched a beat.
Gakuto burst into laughter.
Even Hiyoshi had to hide his wicked grin behind his hand.
"Hmm," Oshitari drawled out, enjoying every moment of this. "Garfield."
"Ohtori," Atobe continued, amusement on his face. "Can I ask how you know of this?"
Choutarou looked torn, and he swallowed, peeking at his captain through his bangs with a nervous smile. "Can I refuse?"
If Shishido wasn't dying of embarrassment here, he'd have died from blood loss. Choutarou's cute was dangerous. Time to distract himself.
He growled. "Let's get on with the game, Choutarou! And you two, stop fucking around!"
Choutarou jumped, immediately going into his position, but he still didn't have the courage to look up in Shishido's direction.
Shishido was annoyed by that. This was all Oshitari and Atobe's fault. Somehow, he felt that some sort of maiming, or torturing, or just basically inflicting of SLOW, HORRIBLE PAIN should be done for him to feel justified.
Choutarou wasn't even looking at him anymore! That can't be!
Shishido served.
He wished that the ball would magically curve and hit Oshitari in the eye and break his glasses and bounce off to break Atobe's nose. Yeah, that would make him feel justified.
Another white blur whizzed past above his shoulder.
Shishido gaped.
Choutarou still wasn't looking at him.
Gakuto cackled. "If you're a man, Shishido, take off your boxers!"
Hiyoshi stared at him. "Who's a man, Gakuto-sempai?"
Gakuto pretended not to hear.
Shishido flipped him the bird. Not wanting to back down (even though he still had his shirt), he grabbed the waistband of his underwear.
It happened in slow motion.
Choutarou's head had whipped up and his eyes had widened. As if in reflex, he ran towards his doubles partner, arm outstretched and his mouth forming the words Shishido-san, dooon't ---.
As he ran to save his sempai from further humiliation, he unconsciously threw away his paddle. The paddle hit Jiroh with a loud thunk, and the blonde woke up with a start, before he groaned and moved his arms to grab at his head --- which meant that he let go of Kabaji's neck so Kabaji panicked because Jiroh was about to fall, so he bent a little forward so that Jiroh could lean against him but doing that also made him sidestep, to bump into Hiyoshi whose paddle also slipped from his fingers and hit Oshitari's head. Surprised, Oshitari moved to hold his aching head, but his hand hit Atobe's face instead, who then gasped at the blasphemy of having his face hit, and fell backwards into Gakuto.
Okay, cut the slow motion.
Choutarou took Shishido's hand and dragged him out of the room, leaving a heap of teenage boys piled on top of each other, groaning with pain.
Choutarou yelled behind him tearfully. "I'M SORRY, SEMPAI-TACHI!!!"
Shishido wasn't though, because oh, yeah, justice.
“Ch-Choutarou, h-hey! W-wait up a bit, where the hell are we going?”
Choutarou rounded the corner sharply, his fingers still enclosed around Shishido’s wrist, dragging him. Shishido almost tripped with that corner turn and he closed his eyes, waiting for the impact, but he just felt himself being turned more and more and more and then Choutarou stopped him by grabbing his shoulders firmly and shaking them.
Shishido thought he saw birds.
Looking past the birds, he realized that they somehow managed to return to their shared room. (It was actually Shishido's room. Choutarou's room was further down the hall but... yeah.)
“Shishido-san!”
“Huh, uh, huuuh?”
Not exactly the most coherent reply ever, but Choutarou didn’t mind.
“You can’t, Shishido-san!”
Shishido blinked the birds away from his eyes. “W-what?” He closed his eyes hard, before opening them again, trying to focus on Choutarou’s face. “I can’t what?”
Choutarou looked determined, even though he still looked flustered. (And probably panic-stricken at having caused so much trouble.)
“You can’t strip in front others!”
Shishido stared at him, long and hard. Choutarou stared back, meaning every word.
“I…” Shishido started, slowly, testing. “It’s strip ping pong.”
If possible, Choutarou’s cheeks darkened. “I-I know…” he started lamely, eyes darting to the side again. Shishido hated that. “B-but you still can’t!”
Shishido stared at him yet again. Choutarou didn’t have the courage to look at him in the eye anymore.
Then.
Shishido burst out laughing.
Choutarou flushed. He then realized that he had been clutching his sempai's shoulders the whole time, and he immediately let go, looking apologetic.
As soon as he did so, Shishido stepped forward and quickly invaded his personal space.
Choutarou didn't even need to think twice. He wrapped his arms around his sempai's body, kissing back just as hard.
Shishido was still laughing by the time they pulled away. Choutarou was even more embarrassed by that.
Finally letting out the last of his chuckles, Shishido punched his kohai's shoulder affectionately. "Only if you don't."
"I-I won't!" Choutarou immediately replied, a determined look on his face.
"Okay," Shishido grinned.
Then he realized that he had no shorts on.
Choutarou realized that too. He quickly pulled away, a blush on his cheeks. "S-sorry, Shishido-san!"
Shishido smirked. Such a saint, this kid. It made Shishido all worked up and dokidoki and all.
It was bad.
"A-ah!" Choutarou's head whipped up, and he looked miserable all over again, much like before when he let out that little freudian slip. "Sorry about the..." he glanced at his sempai's choice of underwear. "Garfield."
Shishido rolled his eyes. "They probably already knew about us anyway. You know those perverts."
Choutarou relaxed. "R-right." Then he stiffened again. A horrible realization came upon him, and he groaned, sitting back down on the bed with his burning face buried in his hands.
Shishido panicked. "What is it, Choutarou?"
Choutarou looked grief-stricken. "Shishido-san," he mourned, looking at his sempai with wet eyes and a morose expression. "Atobe-san won't make me run laps for this, will he? I should apologize, I guess... I mean, I didn't mean it, I think, I just... well... Actually, I don't know how that happened because I was just running towards Shishido-san but... they might think it's my fault since I ran away... and I don't want to run laps, Shishido-san..." he groaned.
Shishido couldn't help it.
He burst out laughing yet again.
The Hyotei regulars swore to never play ping pong ever again.
And since everyone was focused on Shishido at that time, no one noticed the paddle flying out of Choutarou's grip and hitting Jiroh's head and starting the chain reaction.
They all thought Jiroh was at fault.
But since Jiroh was Jiroh, and nobody had the balls to be mad at Jiroh, the Hyotei regulars returned back to Hyotei Gakuen, refreshed, and closer to each other than ever.
Not.
"Gekokujou, Gakuto-sempai."
"FUCK YOU, HIYOSHI. LET ME SEE YOU GEKOKUJOU ME IN REAL TENNIS. HA. YOU CAN'T."
"You slapped Ore-sama's face. Ore-sama is not happy."
"It was an accident though."
"If it was, you're not supposed to look happy because you just slapped Ore-sama's face!"
"Happy? Do I?"
"YES. NA, KABAJI?"
"Usu."
"Zzzz."
Choutarou grinned. "I'm glad we took this trip, don't you think so, Shishido-san?"
Shishido turned to him and gave him an exasperated look that clearly stated yeah, fucking right.