Initial D: Ignition (IDP #1) (NC-17)
Summary: Natsuki Mogi started it.
Notes: This one is all sylverice2's fault. We were talking about Initial D, and doujinshi, and the truly terrible things doujins do to Takumi, and I said there ought to be a series of doujins out there where Takumi gets laid after every race. Not that I know of, she said, but if you wanted to write it...
Thus began the IDP project. I hope the characters still resemble their canonical selves, even if I'm stripping them naked and tossing them into bed together. (Metaphorically. So far.)
IGNITION
*
Natsuki Mogi started it. So far as Takumi had been aware, it was just a nice picnic. Unexpected, since he'd barely talked to Natsuki in years, but nice.
Then, as he chewed on the last rice ball, she said, "Do you hate me?"
He blinked at her over the rice ball. "No." He'd thought she might hate him for hitting her boyfriend like that, back in middle school.
"I'm glad," she said, then sat up straight on the blanket she'd brought along. Takumi took another bite of the rice ball, and lazily admired the push of her breasts against her sweater. "Then -- then Natsuki has something important to say!"
Takumi swallowed his rice, and said cautiously, "Mogi?"
She met his eyes for a moment. "Please, Takumi-kun."
"I'm listening." He set down the rest of the rice, and folded up his legs.
She took another deep breath and looked down at her hands. "For a long time Natsuki thought you must hate her, because Natsuki tried to thank you for what you did and you said nothing." Thank him? Takumi didn't have time to ask, because she wasn't finished. "But then Natsuki watched you with your friends, and with other girls, and she realized the truth." She looked straight up at Takumi again. "You like boys!"
After a long moment, Takumi remembered to breathe again. He was glad he'd put down the rice ball. "...what?"
Natsuki didn't hear, or still wasn't finished. "At first Natsuki was very sad, because I liked you. But Natsuki has other ways to be happy! And it's not fair for Takumi not to be happy as well!"
"Mogi--"
"Natsuki won't ask why you haven't told your friends," Natsuki continued. "But if you don't want them to know, you must have a reason. So to help you, Natsuki will pretend to be your girlfriend, so they won't ask any questions."
No questions? For a moment, Takumi's brain kicked back into gear. Hadn't she met Itsuki? He opened his mouth to try to interrupt again.
"I hope you don't mind that I've volunteered for this, but I couldn't think of anyone else who could help you."
Takumi closed his mouth again.
"Let's go to the beach on Sunday," Natsuki said. "I like driving with you, and I have a new swimsuit." She leaned over, and kissed Takumi's cheek. "Thank you for your attention, Takumi-kun. I'll see you on Sunday."
"Um," Takumi said, then, "Yes, of course."
He helped pack up the remains of the picnic in a confused daze. He didn't mind going to the beach with Natsuki. He liked her. She was the cutest girl in their grade.
She thought he was gay.
When the hell had he stumbled into a shoujo manga?
*
If you race that FD and win...
He had to explain to Natsuki that she was wrong, but it wasn't like there was any privacy at school, and there wasn't time to suggest another picnic. So Takumi went along with her suggestion, asked for the car and everything. The old man said no. Then he changed his mind and said yes, with a full tank of gas thrown in -- if Takumi went and raced the Red Suns.
It shouldn't be a problem. He'd raced this Keisuke Takahashi once, a bright yellow car that he'd passed on the way home from delivery. Iketani and the rest talked about 86 versus FD, but if he'd done it once, he could do it again. He'd leave the car details to them. And after he explained that yes, he had experience driving, Iketani gave way and let him drive.
Then Keisuke Takahashi got out of the yellow car to introduce himself.
He'd raced him before, but Takumi hadn't seen the driver he was racing. It was just some yellow car on the road. He'd seen the driver at that initial meeting of Red Suns and Speed Stars, but he didn't know his name: it was just some guy talking big. And he thought he remembered seeing the yellow car with its driver at the gas station, but he'd paid more attention to his job than to either car or driver.
Up here, standing at the top of Mount Akina, with crowds of people around them and the purr of the engines beside them...it was like his wheels skidding under him, perspective shifting whether he wanted it to or not. Now Keisuke Takahashi wasn't just some loud-mouth, or a random car on the road. He was a guy like Takumi, with dyed hair, and long-fingered hands, and dark eyes that focused on him like a hawk. He remembered Natsuki's cheerful you like boys!, and met Takahashi-san's narrowed gaze, and caught himself thinking what kissing him would feel like.
Natsuki might have been right about him.
Well, fuck.
*
He left immediately after the race. Originally, he'd meant to go straight home, but he slowed down after he hit town limits, and finally pulled over into a dark parking lot, turning off the car and leaning back in his seat.
He'd raced.
He'd enjoyed it. Some. More than just driving home after delivering tofu, seeing how close he could get to the guard rails because he needed something to keep him awake all the way home.
He'd definitely enjoyed beating Keisuke Takahashi again. But now that he didn't have the race to distract him, he was right back thinking about the way Keisuke-san looked at him, and whether he kissed the way he drove. It wouldn't be anything like Natsuki's kiss on his cheek, gentle and hesitant. Keisuke-san would go full speed ahead, no matter what.
Takumi thumped his head against the headrest. He had to stop thinking like this. Getting home was going to be awkward enough, especially with the old man waiting up for him. He didn't want to think about making the delivery tomorrow, coming down the same route he'd just driven.
The sound of a car pulling in next to him made him sit up and look around. No customers should be here at this hour. Besides, he'd tucked the Trueno into a back corner, where nobody should've been able to spot him. He'd been wrong, apparently. That was the yellow FD, and Keisuke Takahashi getting out of it. What?
Oblivious to Takumi's bemusement, Keisuke came over and rapped on his window. "Oi."
Takumi sighed, unbuckled his seat belt, and got out of the car.
Keisuke stepped back enough for the car door to open, and stayed there, arms folded over his chest. "Why did you leave?"
Takumi shrugged. "I wanted to get home."
"This isn't your home," Keisuke pointed out sharply. "You're supposed to stick around."
"How would I know that?"
"Don't bullshit me!" Keisuke slapped one hand down on the 86's roof, startlingly loud in the quiet parking lot. "You're too good not to have raced before." He was glaring at Takumi again, eyes narrowed as he looked him up and down. Then they widened again, and a smile that Takumi didn't like appeared. "Or maybe that wasn't the reason."
"What?" Takumi refused to flinch back.
Keisuke closed the distance between them again, and slid his hand down Takumi's front, cupping the erection Takumi had been trying to ignore. "Afraid to ask?" he asked, half-mocking, and kissed Takumi, quick and hard.
He'd been right, Takumi thought, his own eyes narrowing. "That depends," he said, and pulled Keisuke in for another kiss. Not so quick this time, and gradually Keisuke's lips softened against his, more like a kiss and less like an attack.
"Depends on what?" The words came out muffled, separated by kisses. Maybe Keisuke didn't care if Takumi could hear him, because he started to move his hand, rubbing Takumi through his pants.
On you, Takumi thought, and shifted again to free one of his hands. He wasn't interested in some kind of prize for winning the race. Not on his own. Especially not when Keisuke was just as hard, from the race or the kissing or both, Takumi didn't know and didn't care.
Keisuke's breath caught, and he pulled back again. "Fuck," he said, sounding almost admiring, and started unbuttoning Takumi's jeans. The back of his knuckles rubbed against Takumi's erection, and Takumi tried to bite back a groan.
Keisuke caught it with another kiss as Takumi's zipper slid down. He broke the kiss just long enough to say, "Come on," then kissed Takumi, open-mouthed and biting. Takumi didn't bother to hold back the groan this time. Instead, he tackled Keisuke's jeans, tugging them open enough to get his hand in. He wasn't going to let Keisuke get ahead of him again.
It should have been awkward. It was awkward. The angle was wrong, the zipper dug into his wrist, and the night air crept in around the edges of clothes and hands, a lot more chilly than it had felt an hour ago. But awkward didn't matter, not when Keisuke's hand closed tight around his cock, and Keisuke said his name in his ear like some kind of challenge. He leaned back against his car, and nuzzled Keisuke's neck.
Keisuke pulled his hand out of Takumi's pants for a moment. Takumi froze for a moment: had he done something wrong? But Keisuke met his eyes, and licked his palm, slow and wet.
Oh. Lubrication. Good point. Takumi did the same, then on impulse, caught Keisuke's hand before he could lower it again, and licked it as well. It didn't taste like anything in particular, just skin. But Keisuke's breathing went harsh, and he grabbed blindly for Takumi's hand, catching his wrist just as Takumi slid his hand back into Keisuke's pants.
"Fujiwara--"
"Something wrong, Keisuke-san?"
"No," Keisuke growled, and leaned forward so he was pressing against Takumi, the warmth of his body blocking out the cool air.
It was a race now, who could make his opponent come first, and Keisuke had all the advantages. He kept returning to Takumi's mouth with demanding kisses, luring Takumi's response out of him, then wandering off to lick at Takumi's earlobe (which had no right to be a sensitive place at all), or pulling down his collar to nip at the skin there, or saying his name again while his hand on Takumi's cock never stopped moving, not quite fast enough. Let him be close, Takumi thought hazily. Please let him be close, because in another minute Takumi was going to come, and he wasn't going to be abandoned on some unfamiliar place like this.
"Relax," Keisuke said. The words came out tight and gritty. "Just -- Fujiwara --"
Takumi came in hard, helpless jerks of his hips against Keisuke's hand. Keisuke moaned, and Takumi felt reassuring spurts of warmth over his own hand. A loss or a tie, he wasn't sure which. It didn't matter. He took his hand out of Keisuke's pants, and tried to remember how to stand without the car propping him up, and whether there were any napkins in the glove compartment.
He looked up again to make the offer. Keisuke had leaned back against the FD, and casually began licking his hand clean.
Takumi felt a throb of impossible arousal. "Keisuke-san..."
Keisuke finished with a last swipe of his tongue up his wrist, then leaned forward just enough to brush his damp fingers over Takumi's lips. "Good luck on your next race, Fujiwara," he said. Then he turned away, zipping up his jeans, and walked around to the driver's side door. Takumi could only watch as he got in and drove away, back to Akagi.
Takumi zipped himself up, then got back in the car. He should go home. He still had to tell his dad that he'd won.
The rest of it...the rest, he wasn't going to tell his dad. Or Mogi. Or anyone. But maybe he'd think about racing again. Maybe.
-end-
Notes: This one is all sylverice2's fault. We were talking about Initial D, and doujinshi, and the truly terrible things doujins do to Takumi, and I said there ought to be a series of doujins out there where Takumi gets laid after every race. Not that I know of, she said, but if you wanted to write it...
Thus began the IDP project. I hope the characters still resemble their canonical selves, even if I'm stripping them naked and tossing them into bed together. (Metaphorically. So far.)
IGNITION
*
Natsuki Mogi started it. So far as Takumi had been aware, it was just a nice picnic. Unexpected, since he'd barely talked to Natsuki in years, but nice.
Then, as he chewed on the last rice ball, she said, "Do you hate me?"
He blinked at her over the rice ball. "No." He'd thought she might hate him for hitting her boyfriend like that, back in middle school.
"I'm glad," she said, then sat up straight on the blanket she'd brought along. Takumi took another bite of the rice ball, and lazily admired the push of her breasts against her sweater. "Then -- then Natsuki has something important to say!"
Takumi swallowed his rice, and said cautiously, "Mogi?"
She met his eyes for a moment. "Please, Takumi-kun."
"I'm listening." He set down the rest of the rice, and folded up his legs.
She took another deep breath and looked down at her hands. "For a long time Natsuki thought you must hate her, because Natsuki tried to thank you for what you did and you said nothing." Thank him? Takumi didn't have time to ask, because she wasn't finished. "But then Natsuki watched you with your friends, and with other girls, and she realized the truth." She looked straight up at Takumi again. "You like boys!"
After a long moment, Takumi remembered to breathe again. He was glad he'd put down the rice ball. "...what?"
Natsuki didn't hear, or still wasn't finished. "At first Natsuki was very sad, because I liked you. But Natsuki has other ways to be happy! And it's not fair for Takumi not to be happy as well!"
"Mogi--"
"Natsuki won't ask why you haven't told your friends," Natsuki continued. "But if you don't want them to know, you must have a reason. So to help you, Natsuki will pretend to be your girlfriend, so they won't ask any questions."
No questions? For a moment, Takumi's brain kicked back into gear. Hadn't she met Itsuki? He opened his mouth to try to interrupt again.
"I hope you don't mind that I've volunteered for this, but I couldn't think of anyone else who could help you."
Takumi closed his mouth again.
"Let's go to the beach on Sunday," Natsuki said. "I like driving with you, and I have a new swimsuit." She leaned over, and kissed Takumi's cheek. "Thank you for your attention, Takumi-kun. I'll see you on Sunday."
"Um," Takumi said, then, "Yes, of course."
He helped pack up the remains of the picnic in a confused daze. He didn't mind going to the beach with Natsuki. He liked her. She was the cutest girl in their grade.
She thought he was gay.
When the hell had he stumbled into a shoujo manga?
*
If you race that FD and win...
He had to explain to Natsuki that she was wrong, but it wasn't like there was any privacy at school, and there wasn't time to suggest another picnic. So Takumi went along with her suggestion, asked for the car and everything. The old man said no. Then he changed his mind and said yes, with a full tank of gas thrown in -- if Takumi went and raced the Red Suns.
It shouldn't be a problem. He'd raced this Keisuke Takahashi once, a bright yellow car that he'd passed on the way home from delivery. Iketani and the rest talked about 86 versus FD, but if he'd done it once, he could do it again. He'd leave the car details to them. And after he explained that yes, he had experience driving, Iketani gave way and let him drive.
Then Keisuke Takahashi got out of the yellow car to introduce himself.
He'd raced him before, but Takumi hadn't seen the driver he was racing. It was just some yellow car on the road. He'd seen the driver at that initial meeting of Red Suns and Speed Stars, but he didn't know his name: it was just some guy talking big. And he thought he remembered seeing the yellow car with its driver at the gas station, but he'd paid more attention to his job than to either car or driver.
Up here, standing at the top of Mount Akina, with crowds of people around them and the purr of the engines beside them...it was like his wheels skidding under him, perspective shifting whether he wanted it to or not. Now Keisuke Takahashi wasn't just some loud-mouth, or a random car on the road. He was a guy like Takumi, with dyed hair, and long-fingered hands, and dark eyes that focused on him like a hawk. He remembered Natsuki's cheerful you like boys!, and met Takahashi-san's narrowed gaze, and caught himself thinking what kissing him would feel like.
Natsuki might have been right about him.
Well, fuck.
*
He left immediately after the race. Originally, he'd meant to go straight home, but he slowed down after he hit town limits, and finally pulled over into a dark parking lot, turning off the car and leaning back in his seat.
He'd raced.
He'd enjoyed it. Some. More than just driving home after delivering tofu, seeing how close he could get to the guard rails because he needed something to keep him awake all the way home.
He'd definitely enjoyed beating Keisuke Takahashi again. But now that he didn't have the race to distract him, he was right back thinking about the way Keisuke-san looked at him, and whether he kissed the way he drove. It wouldn't be anything like Natsuki's kiss on his cheek, gentle and hesitant. Keisuke-san would go full speed ahead, no matter what.
Takumi thumped his head against the headrest. He had to stop thinking like this. Getting home was going to be awkward enough, especially with the old man waiting up for him. He didn't want to think about making the delivery tomorrow, coming down the same route he'd just driven.
The sound of a car pulling in next to him made him sit up and look around. No customers should be here at this hour. Besides, he'd tucked the Trueno into a back corner, where nobody should've been able to spot him. He'd been wrong, apparently. That was the yellow FD, and Keisuke Takahashi getting out of it. What?
Oblivious to Takumi's bemusement, Keisuke came over and rapped on his window. "Oi."
Takumi sighed, unbuckled his seat belt, and got out of the car.
Keisuke stepped back enough for the car door to open, and stayed there, arms folded over his chest. "Why did you leave?"
Takumi shrugged. "I wanted to get home."
"This isn't your home," Keisuke pointed out sharply. "You're supposed to stick around."
"How would I know that?"
"Don't bullshit me!" Keisuke slapped one hand down on the 86's roof, startlingly loud in the quiet parking lot. "You're too good not to have raced before." He was glaring at Takumi again, eyes narrowed as he looked him up and down. Then they widened again, and a smile that Takumi didn't like appeared. "Or maybe that wasn't the reason."
"What?" Takumi refused to flinch back.
Keisuke closed the distance between them again, and slid his hand down Takumi's front, cupping the erection Takumi had been trying to ignore. "Afraid to ask?" he asked, half-mocking, and kissed Takumi, quick and hard.
He'd been right, Takumi thought, his own eyes narrowing. "That depends," he said, and pulled Keisuke in for another kiss. Not so quick this time, and gradually Keisuke's lips softened against his, more like a kiss and less like an attack.
"Depends on what?" The words came out muffled, separated by kisses. Maybe Keisuke didn't care if Takumi could hear him, because he started to move his hand, rubbing Takumi through his pants.
On you, Takumi thought, and shifted again to free one of his hands. He wasn't interested in some kind of prize for winning the race. Not on his own. Especially not when Keisuke was just as hard, from the race or the kissing or both, Takumi didn't know and didn't care.
Keisuke's breath caught, and he pulled back again. "Fuck," he said, sounding almost admiring, and started unbuttoning Takumi's jeans. The back of his knuckles rubbed against Takumi's erection, and Takumi tried to bite back a groan.
Keisuke caught it with another kiss as Takumi's zipper slid down. He broke the kiss just long enough to say, "Come on," then kissed Takumi, open-mouthed and biting. Takumi didn't bother to hold back the groan this time. Instead, he tackled Keisuke's jeans, tugging them open enough to get his hand in. He wasn't going to let Keisuke get ahead of him again.
It should have been awkward. It was awkward. The angle was wrong, the zipper dug into his wrist, and the night air crept in around the edges of clothes and hands, a lot more chilly than it had felt an hour ago. But awkward didn't matter, not when Keisuke's hand closed tight around his cock, and Keisuke said his name in his ear like some kind of challenge. He leaned back against his car, and nuzzled Keisuke's neck.
Keisuke pulled his hand out of Takumi's pants for a moment. Takumi froze for a moment: had he done something wrong? But Keisuke met his eyes, and licked his palm, slow and wet.
Oh. Lubrication. Good point. Takumi did the same, then on impulse, caught Keisuke's hand before he could lower it again, and licked it as well. It didn't taste like anything in particular, just skin. But Keisuke's breathing went harsh, and he grabbed blindly for Takumi's hand, catching his wrist just as Takumi slid his hand back into Keisuke's pants.
"Fujiwara--"
"Something wrong, Keisuke-san?"
"No," Keisuke growled, and leaned forward so he was pressing against Takumi, the warmth of his body blocking out the cool air.
It was a race now, who could make his opponent come first, and Keisuke had all the advantages. He kept returning to Takumi's mouth with demanding kisses, luring Takumi's response out of him, then wandering off to lick at Takumi's earlobe (which had no right to be a sensitive place at all), or pulling down his collar to nip at the skin there, or saying his name again while his hand on Takumi's cock never stopped moving, not quite fast enough. Let him be close, Takumi thought hazily. Please let him be close, because in another minute Takumi was going to come, and he wasn't going to be abandoned on some unfamiliar place like this.
"Relax," Keisuke said. The words came out tight and gritty. "Just -- Fujiwara --"
Takumi came in hard, helpless jerks of his hips against Keisuke's hand. Keisuke moaned, and Takumi felt reassuring spurts of warmth over his own hand. A loss or a tie, he wasn't sure which. It didn't matter. He took his hand out of Keisuke's pants, and tried to remember how to stand without the car propping him up, and whether there were any napkins in the glove compartment.
He looked up again to make the offer. Keisuke had leaned back against the FD, and casually began licking his hand clean.
Takumi felt a throb of impossible arousal. "Keisuke-san..."
Keisuke finished with a last swipe of his tongue up his wrist, then leaned forward just enough to brush his damp fingers over Takumi's lips. "Good luck on your next race, Fujiwara," he said. Then he turned away, zipping up his jeans, and walked around to the driver's side door. Takumi could only watch as he got in and drove away, back to Akagi.
Takumi zipped himself up, then got back in the car. He should go home. He still had to tell his dad that he'd won.
The rest of it...the rest, he wasn't going to tell his dad. Or Mogi. Or anyone. But maybe he'd think about racing again. Maybe.
-end-