Stand-Alone: Makka (Scarlet): Part 3
Title: Makka (Scarlet)
Part 3/3
Pairing: Still OshiGaku
Rating: Carnelian
Notes: The end!
Disclaimer: Still not mine
*_*_*_*
Hiroe was pissed he hadn't shown up last night--Gakuto could see it in the way he glared across the courts--but what the Hell, Gakuto didn't much care. He'd show up at the clubroom for sex when he damned well wanted to, and if he didn't want to show up some nights--well, Hiroe would just have to deal, like everyone else. Thank the gods it was singles training today--he didn't really think too much of Yamamoto-buchou's training thingamabobbies, 'cause why the Hell would you split up something that worked?--but today was different, 'cause... it wasn't that he didn't want to be near Yuushi, he just needed his space, that was all. He just needed to fly by himself, for once. He'd done it just about forever, right?
But when he leapt, it didn't feel like his feet were leaving the court, and after he hit the ground badly, once, scraping a red line up his arm that wasn't quite deep enough to bleed much, Gakuto quit trying. His heart just wasn't into the game today, not when he was so angry that the ball blurred red when he hit it, and this wasn't the way he played, not when he flew, but what was flying if there wasn't anyone there to welcome him back to the ground with long strides, a grip on his racquet firm enough to return even the most brutal shots, and a familiar, too-sexy smile?
He won, anyway. Fucking pre-regulars.
Fucking Yamamoto-buchou, who made all the Regulars stay after for longer practices, and then the doubles teams even longer, but his game was off, and it wasn't his fault that he'd gone for the ball and ended up on the floor again. Happened, sometimes. He had a cream that kept these things from scarring, in his room, why the Hell did Yamamoto-buchou want to keep him after to babble at him about things like safety? Did the idiot think he didn't know?
And Hiroe was waiting for him in the clubroom after the lecture. Smirking. Crowding close with his big body, Hell, hadn't he showered? "Whatsamatter, Mukahi?"
Gakuto wrinkled his nose. Apparently, it was a day that didn't look like it was going to get all that much better for Mukahi Gakuto, at least until he got home and saw Oshitari--oh, shit, maybe that wasn't going to help matters any, either.
"Get the fuck away from me, Hiroe." He was too tired for a fight.today, and he turned to get the rest of his stuff. He'd shower at home today. And maybe he'd use up all the hot water.
He didn't expect the hand on his shoulder that whirled him around and pushed him into the metal structure so hard that it clattered, locks and metal behind him, bruises on his back screaming, wasn't it funny how he'd completely forgotten about them last night, what the fuck?! "No-one stands me up, Mukahi," Hiroe snarled, and damn it, he was a big guy, wasn't he? "You didn't give it to me last night? You'll give it to me now."
Maybe that was what he needed. One fuck. Just... just one fuck, to erase the taste of Oshitari from his mouth, sandpaper off the way his skin still burned against Gakuto's.
But... not like this.
Gakuto smiled up at him, all teeth. "I don't fucking think so. You're pretty bad at this."
His smile disappeared, ripped off, when Hiroe's hand slammed onto his throat, pinning him to the lockers, and Gakuto coughed around it, hands flying to that wrist that looked as big as a branch this close.He couldn't--he couldn't breathe--what the Hell did he think he was--
"You're such an uppity little bitch," Hiroe snarled, but he was smiling, Fuck that wasn't even a little bit of a good smile. What the Hell was he--he couldn't possibly--"You think you've got a choice? If you weren't such a great piece of ass, someone would've slapped you around by now--teach you a good lesson 'bout keeping that mouth shut--"
Oh fuck, oh fuck, he was pulling off Gakuto's shorts, oh fuck no, but he couldn't kick with Hiroe's body pressing him to the lockers and some damned lock slamming into his back when Hiroe shoved his hips against Gakuto's, his cock against Gakuto's belly, couldn't he see that Gakuto wasn't even just a little hard? But that breath washed over him in a hot, sweat-stinking wind, Gakuto turned his face away so that the slobbery lips couldn't get him, this wasn't happening, it couldn't be happening, ouch, what the Hell did Hiroe think he was doing, grabbing his crotch like that--ow, what the--
No, this wasn't going to happen, it wasn't--
Yuushi!
An instant later, Hiroe was on the floor, and Gakuto could breathe again, could slump to the floor, gasping--thank the fucking gods, maybe Atobe had come in and pulled him off, 'cause Hiroe was enough of a dumbass to forget to lock the clubroom door--
But then he couldn't breathe, because he'd never seen his roommate so totally pissed
It wasn't in the mouth. The mouth was smooth, and relaxed, and easy. Maybe that was why that dumb Hiroe was still grinning; it was a damned good thing for Hiroe that Gakuto wasn't a girl, 'cause he'd never have fucked a guy whose stupidity could be passed on to future generations if he'd been one.
Because anyone who could read even a little bit of Oshitari's expression behind the glasses and had even a little bit of sense would have been running for cover so fast that they'd have left tennis shoe skid marks on the ground.
Hell, if Gakuto hadn't still been trying to breathe, he'd have been running for cover.
"Whatsa matter, Glasses?" Hiroe sneered, up at Oshitari, as he pushed himself up off the floor. "Aw, c'mon. No need to get all pissy about things. Want a piece of the bitch? We can share. Teach him a lesson--"
Oh, fuck.
Oshitari's expression didn't change when he kicked Hiroe in the balls. Once. Twice. Three times. Drawing his leg back, leisurely, before slamming forwards. Easy. As slow and smooth as if he were doing suburi outside on the courts into an early wind after warm-ups. Oh, geez, Hiroe'd been hard, Gakuto'd felt it against his stomach, and holy shit that had to hurt--
Never mind that Hiroe couldn't even scream--his eyes bugging out so wide that Gakuto was more than a little surprised they weren't rolling on the floor, curled up into a tiny little bundle with his mouth open, and he didn't look so big anymore, not next to a very, very angry Oshitari Yuushi.
Whose face didn't change even when he grabbed Hiroe by the collar--dragged him to the clubroom door--dumped him outside--holy shit, he hadn't known that Yuushi was that strong...
The expression didn't even twitch when Yuushi adjusted his glasses, and cocked his head at Gakuto, his hair stuck to his cheeks--it'd been stuck to his cheeks like that, last night, but last night, Yuushi hadn't brushed it back with a careless push of those long, knowing fingers.
"You're not going near him again. Ever," his partner informed him, pleasantly, and Gakuto found those long hands dry and cool through his when Yuushi reached out and gently lifted him to his feet--so pleasantly that Gakuto was standing already, and Yuushi's fingers were gently testing over the swelling bruises at the base on his throat by the time he realised what the Hell his partner was talking about. "These are going to show through your uniform tomorrow."
Gakuto's mouth fell open, and he shoved himself back to stability, not leaning against the lockers, and definitely not leaning forwards into his roommate. Yuushi was fucking telling him what to do? What. The. Hell?! It was a shiver that coursed down his back, Yuushi never told him what to do, never--wait, no, I don't think you should go, he'd said, last night, come, now, but his eyes were angrier. What right did he have to be angry? "Why the Hell not?"
"In case you didn't notice, he was planning to rape you, Gakuto!" Yuushi's eyes were full of dark fire and darker silk and bright red comforters at night-time under lamplight... no! It wasn't passion there, because Yuushi never let anything creep out from under the ice, but... "Do you like that, too?"
Oh, fuck, right, he'd said he liked it rough, with bruises, last night, hadn't he?
"What do you care, anyway?" Gakuto spat. There wasn't any way he was going to take that back. "It's not like you give a flying fuck. No strings, right?"
Oh.
Shit.
That... that wasn't at all what he'd meant to say.
Yuushi just looked at him for one long moment, and Gakuto waited, his hackles up, shit, this hurt, his chest hurt in long spears that felt like maybe they were going to send diamond-edged bits to every little corner of his body, for Yuushi to agree, because of course Oshitari never gave a fuck about much of anything, and that included what the Hell happened to the bruises on Gakuto's back.
But he'd left an ice pack in the freezer.
His fingers were rough, callused, and so gentle as he stroked Gakuto's bruises, .
And, finally, those lips curved into a bitter little smile, and Yuushi's thumbs came to rest in the hollow of his collarbone, spread across his shoulders like wings. "Who said?"
Gakuto felt his heart stop with one sharp thump that echoed through his chest. Or maybe it'd stopped breaking. He wondered, distantly if Yuushi could feel it. He couldn't... that expression on that face he'd gotten to know so well wasn't familiar at all, and hadn't Oshitari said that everything would be just the same?
"Wh-what?" he meant it to be a shriek. Something to show Yuushi how angry he was, 'cause, no strings, right? But it came out a weird, broken little whisper. Like someone had grabbed his little heart, and it was beating in his throat, now, hiccuping because it wasn't working quite right. He was Mukahi Gakuto, and he didn't care about things like hearts or caring or... breaking. He didn't, he didn't--
"Who says I don't want strings, Ga-ku-to?" Gakuto felt the way his name stretched in Oshitari's mouth as if Yuushi were grabbing him by the neck and pulling him to pieces, like the sudden quiet bitterness in that smile was digging into his stomach in a rush of acid. Gods, he didn't ever want to see Yuushi's smile so melted with something that wasn't brilliance or smug satisfaction. "If I'm not mistaken--it was you who wanted that. I was willing to abide by your decision. That's all. So don't ascribe your own preferences to me."
Oshitari turned to go, and it was like watching him head back into his room last night, leaving Gakuto standing by the window--except worse, because this was in sunlight not lamplight, and something was broken inside Gakuto, and maybe that was bad, or maybe he'd needed to break it--"Yuushi?"
His roommate sounded... he sounded so tired. "What, Gakuto."
He definitely didn't like hearing Yuushi like that. There were so many things he wanted to say, but... damn it, none of them were coming out of his mouth. His partner would understand, right? He... he always understood. "Yuushi, you..." Gakuto had to swallow to get out the rest of it. "You don't ever want strings. I thought... right?"
Oshitari stopped walking, and that was good--that was good, wasn't it? He was going to agree, but if he was going to, why would he stop like that? "Why would you think that?" his voice was slow, and soft, and coolly deadly, and Gakuto couldn't see his eyes.
"'Cause..." it was true, wasn't it? Gakuto's nails raked across the locker, flaking orange paint under his neat, trimmed nails. "No-one ever leaves you. You always leave them. You know. After you get what you want."
And fuck. Fuck, he sounded so bitter. Maybe he was. 'Cause... there was the truth, right there, for him to look at and wonder if he'd see himself bleeding if he looked at it for too long.
One fucking long heartbeat later, Gakuto was plastering himself against the wall--not hard enough for it to hurt, nowhere near hard enough for it to hurt, because... oh shit oh shit he wasn't actually scared Yuushi was going to hit him, but oh God Yuushi was mad again, and this time, it was at him. Gakuto was pretty sure that Yuushi had been shorter than Hiroe the last he'd checked, thinner, but he seemed twice as terrifying--with Oshitari's hands pressed to the wall on either side of his head, and the violet in those eyes swallowed up with how dark they were, and he couldn't see himself in them, not with Yuushi's glasses flashing like that before they nudged down his nose--and it was even scarier when Yuushi looked at him over the edge of them, and his eyes were sleek and opaque as a cat's without Gakuto's reflection.
"Look, you little idiot," his roommate snarled, and the way his voice echoed through the locker room--it wasn't fear that shook down Gakuto's spine. It wasn't being scared that made his knees want to just go liquid right out from under him. "Perhaps I am not being clear. Don't mistake what I do, or what you do, with anyone else, for what we have." Yuushi's face was too close to his, his mouth was hard and firm, and godgodgods how that mouth had felt like against his. "I wouldn't do that to you unless it was what you wanted. You are the one who did not want more. Do you understand me?"
I want this.
It surprised him, for a second, scared him almost, the way the words pulsed through his world--but just a second.
His fingers were on Yuushi's glasses before he even thought about just how stupid he was being when he pushed at the little bridge, nudging them back up where they were supposed to be, and the anger in that gaze faded a little--oh, good for him, he'd managed to confuse Yuushi just a little bit.
I want this.
Gakuto smiled, and that felt real--not the bruises, not the wall, just the way Oshitari was looking down at him and maybe for a second neither of them knew what they were doing. "You're sexy when you're mad," he observed--not objective, no way in Hell that was one of Yuushi's objective observations, and pushed away from the wall with his fingertips on the white plastery stuff. Almost into his roommate's chest. "Anyone ever tell you that, Yuushi?"
The eyes behind the glasses, the taut edge of Yuushi's cheekbones, softened, just a little, before they were back to being hard and slick as crystal when he stepped back from the wall and lifted his head, looking at a spot that was just over Gakuto's cherry-bright hair. "You are avoiding the issue. And I am not playing this game with you."
Gakuto took one step forwards, and looked up at his partner through his lashes--no-one really could ever turn him down when he gave them that look. That was, if he could get Yuushi to look at him. Right? "You won't even let me apologise to you?" he reached out, and Yuushi's skin was just as warm as he remembered under his fingers, the ripple of tendon along those forearms when he tensed--oooh, yeah.
Yuushi's mouth twitched, just a second, before it straightened out again--but yes, he'd gotten a smile, just a little one. "Gakuto, you never apologise for anything."
Well. Yeah, but... "What if I want to?"
I want this.
But those eyes were on his again, just a moment, before Yuushi shrugged, and began to turn away. "Then you can buy me dinner. That's what you chose, isn't it?"
That... that was... damn it, his partner was just not cooperating.
Well, he'd worked on people more hard-headed than Oshitari Yuushi. Maybe. Okay, people who were straighter than Oshitari Yuushi, anyway. Which was close enough.
Gakuto grinned, and cocked his head. "Well... I guess I am pretty hungry."
That got him a look--almost startled, violet eyes going a little wider behind those glasses when Yuushi's face turned down towards him.
The eyes were wider still when Gakuto reached out to lay his fingertips against Yuushi's chest--the familiar coarse rough of the Regular jersey--and trailed it down, slow friction, a slower caress, oh yeah this was his game, this was what he knew how to play, and his mouth was dry already with anticipation when he licked his lips. Maybe Yuushi's chest looked different by sunlight than by lamplight. "Starving, even," the smile started low in him, curling upwards, touching the edge of his lips--no-one ever said no to him, not when he made it damned clear what he wanted. "Maybe you could make me another... snack?" Oooh, that'd be good...
He saw Yuushi's Adam's apple jump, once, when he swallowed--and his voice was very, very quiet, a sexy rough rasp. "Tempting, Gakuto."
Yes! Victory tasted so good, and Gakuto grinned, maybe he'd steal just one kiss--
Yuushi's hand removed Gakuto's from his chest, and dropped it; his voice was just as quiet, just as cool, when he murmured, "...but no."
And something went crack inside Gakuto when his roommate turned away, started walking away, a hot splintering pain--maybe whatever was holding him upright had just broken, because all of a sudden his back was to the wall again, and his knees were going brittle as ice melting, the smile biting his lips with frost before he dropped it, and he almost reached out towards that familiar smooth back--almost called back out, almost said--
I want this.
Yuushi didn't ever look back. He didn't ever look back, didn't ever look when he was supposed to--and Gakuto was tired, that was why he was leaning against the wall--so damned tired of the head games, and too much thinking, and maybe there wasn't anything that would erase the way Oshitari's skin had felt against his, and the way Yuushi's mouth curved into a little smile when he was asleep and he had such long, dark lashes--Gakuto'd only looked in on him for a second, just a second.
It would be okay if they were just friends, right? They were, they were, that was why Yuushi wasn't going to sleep with him. Which was pretty damned funny, because... wasn't that why Gakuto hadn't wanted to fuck Yuushi in the first place?
He could still look in on Yuushi sleeping, some nights, right, even if Yuushi didn't look back, right?
You're such a bastard, Yuushi, but his throat was too empty and aching to say it.
But halfway through the clubroom, Yuushi looked back. Over his shoulder.
I want you.
It took one very, very, very long second for Gakuto to realise that he'd said it aloud.
One long second for Yuushi to see him leaning against the wall, and he tried to push away, but damned this hurt, damned he didn't want...but without Yuushi standing there, without the silk warmth of his body a hand's length away and Yuushi's shadow falling over him, the clubroom's sunlight was frost on his skin, the fine, fine hairs on his forearms prickling--he was shivering, suddenly, hunched over with his arms around himself, but his hands were freezing all the same.
But then Oshitari was on him, picking him up, and gods that mouth, that mouth--the kissing had been good last night, he remembered it being good, but how could it have been this good--how could it have swept into him, down him, driving the cold before it as strong arms came hot around him, and the contrast made his mouth fall open as much as the shock. Gods he was hard again already, but that was okay because... because Yuushi was, too, he could feel it, rocking between his thighs when he hooked his leg over Oshitari's hip, oh yeah.
"You're such a little idiot, Gakuto," Yuushi murmured, but it was against Gakuto's mouth, it was with Yuushi holding him, his heat melting all of Gakuto's insides, Yuushi wasn't walking out the clubroom door, and he heard himself moan.
Yuushi was way, way too good at getting him out of his clothes, Gakuto decided. Even without the ripping and tearing stuff--he could've sworn he hadn't had time to so much as blink before his shirt was sitting in a corner of the clubroom in a little pile, oh, yeah, he didn't have his shorts and boxers on anymore, but it wasn't cold anymore, the sunlight was just sunlight. And oh gods, Yuushi's hand was on him, his thumb brushing glistening wet over the head of him in a long, slow stroke that just about arched Gakuto off the bench where Yuushi had put him down, the exhaustion rolling off him and away from the fluid heat that dripped from where Yuushi's tongue was moving in a long, sleek slide over the inside of his thigh. "Nnn," Gakuto whimpered, but Hell, he wasn't trying to be coherent. He hadn't thought--but then Yuushi'd turned--"You... gonna... give it to me... how I like it?"
He gasped as teeth sank gently into the ticklish bit of skin just beside his knee--and again as Yuushi soothed the bite with a slow lap of that tongue, and his partner was smiling again when he stepped back and pulled off his own shirt, letting his jersey, his tennis shorts, fall to the ground, and that felt so good, the smile warm little tickles of invisible sensation on his skin. "You didn't like it last night?"
Last night, on top of Yuushi's bed with Gakuto being able to see himself in those violet eyes, and that cock stroking leisurely and raw inside him, slow rocking as his roommate watched him, that mouth molten sex against his lips... gods. Gakuto moaned, and buried his fingers in that hair, tugging, his back arching as Yuushi moved upwards, that tongue sliding slow over the base of his cock and fingers cupping his balls in leisurely strokes. "Bastard, you know I did." And gods, he'd never forget the way it felt, never ever. "It's just... c'mon, Yuushi, pound me into the wall."
"Goodness, you are pushy," Oshitari laughed, but Gakuto'd always liked seeing him laugh like that. He liked it better now that the chill edge of blue was gone from his roommate's eyes--hey, wait, when'd it gone? "I do hope you have lube secreted somewhere, because you do remember what happened the last time you called me a bastard, don't you?"
His smile was a slow roll of pure sex, upwards at the corners, and... Oh god. Ohgod, yes. Oh, god, he had the most amazing mouth ever. "Locker," Gakuto squeaked out, past the slow curls of Yuushi's tongue over the very tip of him, the tiniest catch just under the head. "D-damn, you really like sucking cock, don't you...?"
"No, not particularly," Oshitari murmured, but the way his lips were moving in a long, rocking slide over him, vibrating with his words when he reached past Gakuto into the cubbyhole, fumbled--gods, why didn't Gakuto believe that? Especially not when those lips, oh geez, tightened in a smile. "I'm just very good at it."
Well, okay. Yeah. Oh, yeah, he was. There had to be something he could say to that, but it really was hard when it felt like Yuushi was licking away every inch of his mind, empty and damp before... oh, gods, oh gods, he almost fell off the bench when Yuushi gave him two fingers, not just one--damn, Gakuto was impressed, he must've gotten the tube open and lube on his fingers one-handed--pushing him open with one slick stroke--scissoring his fingers inside him--oh, wow yeah that was incredible just how the tips of his fingers just about danced over just the right spots in the most teasing little nudges, and if Yuushi's other arm hadn't been wrapped around his waist, Gakuto was pretty sure he'd have squirmed himself right off the bench. Damned locker room.
Yuushi was way too into being careful, Gakuto was going to have to break him of that. Then again, the way Yuushi was watching Gakuto's eyes, that slow little smile on his face... he'd never, ever seen that smile before, that was new, that was special... Next time, maybe. Oh. Yeah. 'Cause there was definitely gonna be a next time. Gakuto grinned at the thought. "What's the matter, Yuushi? Not gonna--ooooh," there went the dancing fingers again, and there went the rest of what he'd been thinking, "do me tight again?"
On the other hand, damn, he was as good with his fingers as he was with his cock. Gakuto wouldn't've been all that surprised if Yuushi could make him come just trying to get him ready for the real thing, if he ever stopped fooling around and just fluttering the tips of his fingers like that--
Damn it, his roommate had to be psychic. Because there really wasn't any way to explain the way Yuushi gave him three fingers just that second, stretching--and with a "Didn't you say last night that you wanted me to be creative?" Gakuto felt his partner curl his fingertips and send fire the same gold as that tanned skin streaking down every single one of Gakuto's nerves, hot on the heels of those smooth lips wrapping around the head of his cock all over again, just holding him there. "So I'm going to give you what you want."
Gakuto heard himself scream, high and thin--and an instant later, he couldn't scream past Yuushi's mouth moving against him, down him, curved and taut and smiling.
"You are loud," Yuushi murmured when he pulled off, so seriously, but there was laughter in his eyes along with all that heat when he slid his fingers out, and Gakuto whimpered at how empty it was. Damn it, he was way too close to the edge. Damn it, Yuushi's laughing did the weirdest, shakiest things to his insides. "Do you really want the rest of the Regulars to know what we're up to?"
"Don't care," Gakuto whimpered--before he grinned, just a little. "B'sides. Hiroe's blocking the door anyway."
Oops. Maybe that hadn't been the right thing to say--'cause Yuushi's eyes went darker for a second, almost black behind his glasses with just the tiniest little ring of violet and not even a little bit of laughter, before he stood up, and something went clunking down the bench beside Gakuto, and he wasn't wearing his glasses anymore. What the Hell was he up to--
Gakuto didn't have time to ask, before his partner picked him up in one long sexy spine-curling motion and left his feet dangling as he kicked away the bench.
Whoa. Wait. Wait, wait, seriously, Yuushi knew he had a bruise, he'd gotten him an ice pack, what the Hell was he thinking wanting to fuck him up against the lockers?!
Gakuto tried to squirm away, shocked, but Oshitari was already pushing his knees up, one arm wrapped around the arc of his back--what the Hell, this wasn't right! He'd wanted this, yeah, but he didn't want Yuushi to fuck him the way Hiroe'd been fucking him, Yuushi was his roommate and Yuushi wouldn't hurt him like that--
But when his back came to rest against the cool metal, Gakuto blinked--because nothing was hitting his bruise. Maybe Yuushi'd put him up against the middle of the locker. It wouldn't help, Gakuto was pretty sure, 'cause when Yuushi thrust it'd shove him upwards and the locks were staggered, he'd end up pressed against one anyway--but if he'd done this with Hiroe, he couldn't say no to the one guy he'd really wanted, even if it did leave him with new bruises, could he? Maybe it'd be different. Maybe it'd be--
No. Gods. No.
Gakuto's mouth fell open in a strangled little yelp as his roommate slid into him--one long, smooth stroke that drove him up against the locker, and he waited for the familiar pain of that damned lock shoving into his poor bruised back--but all he felt was cool metal, drowning in the heat of that fullness inside him, a good stretching ache that became a better pulse of sheer zinging pleasure as Yuushi hit all the right places, that flat stomach stroking up the length of his cock--and, it didn't hurt, it didn't, not at all...
The flick of silver caught his eye first.
Gakuto looked down, past Yuushi's shoulder, at the combination lock lying beside his roommate's glasses on the bench, with its little loop open and dull as pewter, except where it would've chafed and shone against the locker.
Yuushi'd... he'd...
Yuushi reached for his lips, and by the time he broke away, Gakuto figured out he'd wrapped his legs around that slim, powerful waist, his arms over Yuushi's shoulders, clinging--and really realised that there wasn't any way he was letting go when his roommate murmured, "It doesn't hurt, right?" and his fingertips, free now that Gakuto was clinging onto him, came to rest just above Gakuto's hipbone in the back, his palm cushioning Gakuto's bruises against a lock that wasn't even there anymore.
For the first time in a long time, Gakuto really, really felt like smiling.
"No," he managed to whisper, past the choking lump in his throat that felt as big as a bruise, past the way his eyes were burning, past the way it all felt so right and it didn't have anything to do with just the cock inside him. "Doesn't... doesn't hurt at all," and he buried his face in Yuushi's shoulder so Yuushi wouldn't have to see the way the tears felt good, too.
But maybe that was because it was hard this time, not last night's slow, slow sexy rocking--fast the way he liked it--a quick fuck, maybe, but not short jabs--long, sharp strokes, all the way in and all the way out without even enough time for Gakuto to get his breath back in between before he was being filled like that again--and Yuushi's mouth was on his, so he couldn't breathe anyway, didn't want to, he was melting hot and crying hotter and clawing at Yuushi's back but the way his partner's hand cushioned him against the lockers didn't even twitch, didn't hurt him even when he was sure his nails were raking across his partner's shoulders, and gods any second now he was going to just come apart and would he see his reflection in Yuushi's gaze go to pieces if he did--?
But... how close was... wait, wait, he hung onto sanity with his teeth and nails, twisting away from those intoxicating lips so he could bite his own and let the pain dilute the pleasure for a second so he could see the way Yuushi gasped, his face tightening until crinkles radiated from the corners of his closed eyes when Gakuto tightened up around him, clenching around that cock--oh, wow, the look on Oshitari's face before he wrenched his eyes open again and smiled, tight and hot and surprisingly... certain.
He'd always liked it when Yuushi felt like that.
"Yuushi?" he whispered, his mouth pressed to the curb of that long throat. Gods, he could feel the coarse hiss of it when Yuushi breathed, and it was one thing to know that everyone found him hot, and something else to figure out that he could make his partner's breath go all raspy like that... "Wanna... wanna see... you let go."
The long thrusts slowed, stopped, and Gakuto whimpered in disappointment--or maybe it was relief, 'cause he really wasn't sure he could've hung on even a second longer and he did want to see his roommate come--but Yuushi's hair brushed wet across his forehead as his roommate bowed his head and smiled at him. "Well, then," his voice was slow, smooth, deliberate--he could've been asking about when their next match was going to be or what they were having for dinner. "Do you now?"
"Mmmhmm," Gakuto nodded, eyes closed. Why'd he stop--?
He cracked one eye open just in time to catch the smile getting sexy enough to melt him into little bits all on its own--before the world wrenched out of focus, everything a blur but the way Yuushi's lashes shadowed his eyes when his roommate slammed into him--hard enough that Gakuto choked with it, all that smooth wet velvety sensation climbing up his body until he wondered muzzily if he even needed to have his cock stroked.
Geez. Geez, Oshitari definitely had a thing for having Gakuto looking at him during sex, didn't he, he'd have to remember that, Hell, he didn't think he'd ever be able to forget...
"That's..." one thrust, and it surprised him tight as Oshitari growled, into the hair at Gakuto's temple, "something..." another, deeper, right there angled just the right way, Gakuto's mouth fell open, his head back, "you're going to..." Yuushi's lips skimmed over the curve of his ear, teeth, just a hint of teeth, oh yeah, "...have to work for..." Gakuto wailed as the tip of a tongue traced across a whorl, or something, wet and hot before Yuushi slid into him, out, in again, one fast thrust so arrhythmic he was surprised his galloping heart didn't just go 'pop' with it, "don't you think?"
He really wasn't thinking anymore--not when he whimpered, cried, pleaded, he didn't know what the Hell he was saying, he didn't care, not when Yuushi was giving him exactly what he'd asked for, but it was different when he didn't dare close his eyes 'cause maybe Yuushi'd stop, and watching Yuushi's eyes with his pupils drowning out the purple, his smile fading... and in those eyes, Gakuto could see his own reflection, his own eyes wide and drowning in everything that Yuushi was giving him--geez, those narrowed, dark eyes got Gakuto harder--almost--than the pressure inside and the sweet jabs of pure hot sweet ohsofuckinggood--
It all crashed over him, tumbling him down like he was going to break into a thousand little pieces, every muscle in his body going tight and hot and hard as he arced, rubbing up against Yuushi's belly, gods he was so close, gods he was so close--just a little more, and he'd fall, wasn't it funny how his partner never let him fall--
And then Yuushi said his name, once, softly, and those gorgeous eyes went blind and blank right in front of him the second before Yuushi leaned down and licked him, just over a bruise, his mouth latching over it hard enough for it to hurt. Almost. No. Gods. Yes.
Gakuto fell.
No.
Not falling.
Flying, sobbing almost except it felt like laughing, and this was what he'd missed in the game today, this was exactly what he'd wanted, and Yuushi was wrapped around him, so deeply inside him, that mouth hot and sweet and real on Gakuto's neck when Gakuto's back spasmed, almost hard enough to knock his head into the lockers, and maybe he was screaming when the fire took over and melted him into drops of red and white and the tiny, tiny little edge of violet that was left in Yuushi's eyes.
Maybe he was screaming, but it was the screaming when he knew the cord would be there to catch him when he hit the bottom of his jump, and Yuushi was warm gold, firm and there under his nails and against his neck and between his lips when Gakuto yanked his partner to him and kissed him until they'd both stopped shaking, and started breathing again.
His knees almost bumbled to nothing when Oshitari finally lowered him, and his feet touched the ground, but Gakuto grabbed the handle of one of the lockers to keep himself up--which was fine, 'cause Yuushi'd just grabbed him, one hand plastered to the bank of lockers, the other gripping onto Gakuto's shoulder.
It took both of them a second, maybe, to realise that Yuushi's knees had almost given out, too--and then they looked at each other and grinned.
Gakuto grinned wider when he realised his roommate's smug grin was maybe just a little sheepish. Maybe just a little, around the edges there. No-one else would've been able to see it, he was pretty damned certain. He was equally sure he'd never seen anything so cute in his life, and sure as Hell he never thought he'd be calling his roommate, well, 'cute,'
So maybe he could hold Yuushi up, sometimes, too.
Damned, but he hadn't felt this fine in... in... ever. Never. Whatever.
He plopped his head forwards on his roommate's shoulder with a happy sigh, and his hair fell around his face. Oh, that'd been good. Just what he'd needed. Just exactly what he'd needed. Not someone else's cock--Yuushi's smile, Yuushi's eyes drowning the violet in lust, and he was never going to be able to get the feel of him off his skin now, was he...? "You're not too bad," he admitted, but he could taste sweat on his lips and on Yuushi's collarbone when he mouthed at it. Okay, it definitely didn't sound as smooth as he'd planned to sound, not when he wasn't quite breathing the way he'd been fifteen minutes ago. Or maybe it'd been longer. Who knew? "And!" he added, triumphantly, "You came before me."
He hadn't, not really--near as Gakuto could figure, they'd come at pretty much the same time--but if Oshitari was anything like him, maybe he wouldn't even notice? Gakuto was pretty sure the world went all white and empty whenever he came, when the sex was good enough, and if that hadn't been good, well, then he'd really been missing out.
Besides, with his roommate, he was kind of going to need every ace he had.
Yuushi just laughed at him. "I most certainly did not," he murmured, in that slow, rough voice. Mmm-mm-mmm. He was definitely gonna have to get Yuushi to talk dirty to him again sometime. Even if it meant that Oshitari was going to have something else to hold over him, 'cause damn, having his roommate talk dirty to him could probably put Gakuto pretty close to climbing the walls with how bad he'd want to be fucked after Yuushi was done... Damn, well, he'd tried. "I think you'll need a good deal more work before you even come close to making me come without satisfying you, Gakuto."
This really was kind of a pointless thing to talk about, because why the Hell would he want Yuushi to come without getting him off, too... but at the same time, the thought of watching Oshitari completely losing it, every thought flying out of that genius head... mmmh, damn, he could get hard just thinking about it again.
The full-of-myself-thank-you smile on Yuushi's face made it pretty damned clear he could feel Gakuto's cock against his leg.
Gakuto wrinkled his nose at him. Smug Oshitari. Smug sexy Oshitari. Some things just damned well never changed. "What makes you think you're worth the trouble of... of... y'know. Working on?" Gakuto tilted his chin up in challenge--damn it, that really didn't work too well when Oshitari was pretty much tall enough to tuck Gakuto underneath his chin if he wanted to. Wonder how that felt like...?
"You said so yourself," Yuushi grinned down against him, and reached over to the bench for his glasses. He left the lock. Far as Gakuto was concerned, it could stay there. He wasn't going to ask how Yuushi'd gotten it off, 'cause that definitely wasn't his roommate's Regular locker. "No-one ever leaves me."
Bastard.
Like always.
Gakuto had to laugh, burying his face in his Yuushi's neck for a moment before he pushed away from the lockers and slipped out. Okay, maybe he wasn't going to take a bath in the room, 'cause, Hell, he was a mess. He was naked already, anyway. Maybe Yuushi wanted to share a shower in the locker room? He hadn't ever done that, but it'd always sounded like fun... "Maybe I'll be different?" he suggested over his own shoulder, grinning, but he didn't mean it. Not really. Not even a little bit.
Oshitari's mouth curved into that slow little 'I understand you so well,' smile as he leaned against the side of the lockers and just watched, gods that was sexy. "I doubt it," he smiled, and for some reason--weird, huh?--Gakuto didn't mind. "Besides, what in the world makes you think I'm ever going to want to leave you?" Oshitari shrugged, a slow roll of his shoulders, all tucked golden muscle. "You're my partner. Separately, we're certainly competent individuals, but together, we're superb."
Yeah. He was Oshitari's partner. He was, maybe that was the end of it, and... maybe it wasn't. Maybe that was why Gakuto stopped walking, because he'd never been much good at head games, but he'd never really been much good at saying what he really, really wanted to say when he wasn't just being funny, either. "I..." he cleared his throat, once, and looked down at his hands. "I kinda wasn't talking about tennis."
But he could almost hear it when Oshitari just smiled, and Gakuto squeaked, because Oshitari's lips were firm and gentle on Gakuto's nape. It was such a little kiss--the softest little press that echoed like a beginning down his spine when his roommate's arms came around him, pulling him against that firm chest.
A hug. He'd never had a hug before. Not from anyone he'd slept with.
"Neither was I," Oshitari purred, low into his ear. "I think we want a shower, don't you?"
~owari~
Start: January 22, 2004
End: April 16, 2004 (Wow. This fic went through a lo-ong moratorium period... *laugh*)
Aaaaand, it's done. ^_^ Monstrous, yes. Not-quite-satisfying smut, yes. At the same time... this is a bunny that was trying to eat my brain for a long, long time, and, well... it's sometimes really nice to go back to something. Right, becchan? *snug the imouto*
The title--well, I suppose you could call it a pun, of a sort. "Makka na uso," 'a scarlet lie,' is what the Japanese call a full-out lie with no truth to it--and, well, I thought it was a nice comparison to what these two boys were going through, for awhile. ^_^
Wow. *laugh* It's been awhile since I genuinely felt that what I was writing had devolved so horridly into OOCness, but... this needed to get done, neh? ^_^
Part 3/3
Pairing: Still OshiGaku
Rating: Carnelian
Notes: The end!
Disclaimer: Still not mine
*_*_*_*
Hiroe was pissed he hadn't shown up last night--Gakuto could see it in the way he glared across the courts--but what the Hell, Gakuto didn't much care. He'd show up at the clubroom for sex when he damned well wanted to, and if he didn't want to show up some nights--well, Hiroe would just have to deal, like everyone else. Thank the gods it was singles training today--he didn't really think too much of Yamamoto-buchou's training thingamabobbies, 'cause why the Hell would you split up something that worked?--but today was different, 'cause... it wasn't that he didn't want to be near Yuushi, he just needed his space, that was all. He just needed to fly by himself, for once. He'd done it just about forever, right?
But when he leapt, it didn't feel like his feet were leaving the court, and after he hit the ground badly, once, scraping a red line up his arm that wasn't quite deep enough to bleed much, Gakuto quit trying. His heart just wasn't into the game today, not when he was so angry that the ball blurred red when he hit it, and this wasn't the way he played, not when he flew, but what was flying if there wasn't anyone there to welcome him back to the ground with long strides, a grip on his racquet firm enough to return even the most brutal shots, and a familiar, too-sexy smile?
He won, anyway. Fucking pre-regulars.
Fucking Yamamoto-buchou, who made all the Regulars stay after for longer practices, and then the doubles teams even longer, but his game was off, and it wasn't his fault that he'd gone for the ball and ended up on the floor again. Happened, sometimes. He had a cream that kept these things from scarring, in his room, why the Hell did Yamamoto-buchou want to keep him after to babble at him about things like safety? Did the idiot think he didn't know?
And Hiroe was waiting for him in the clubroom after the lecture. Smirking. Crowding close with his big body, Hell, hadn't he showered? "Whatsamatter, Mukahi?"
Gakuto wrinkled his nose. Apparently, it was a day that didn't look like it was going to get all that much better for Mukahi Gakuto, at least until he got home and saw Oshitari--oh, shit, maybe that wasn't going to help matters any, either.
"Get the fuck away from me, Hiroe." He was too tired for a fight.today, and he turned to get the rest of his stuff. He'd shower at home today. And maybe he'd use up all the hot water.
He didn't expect the hand on his shoulder that whirled him around and pushed him into the metal structure so hard that it clattered, locks and metal behind him, bruises on his back screaming, wasn't it funny how he'd completely forgotten about them last night, what the fuck?! "No-one stands me up, Mukahi," Hiroe snarled, and damn it, he was a big guy, wasn't he? "You didn't give it to me last night? You'll give it to me now."
Maybe that was what he needed. One fuck. Just... just one fuck, to erase the taste of Oshitari from his mouth, sandpaper off the way his skin still burned against Gakuto's.
But... not like this.
Gakuto smiled up at him, all teeth. "I don't fucking think so. You're pretty bad at this."
His smile disappeared, ripped off, when Hiroe's hand slammed onto his throat, pinning him to the lockers, and Gakuto coughed around it, hands flying to that wrist that looked as big as a branch this close.He couldn't--he couldn't breathe--what the Hell did he think he was--
"You're such an uppity little bitch," Hiroe snarled, but he was smiling, Fuck that wasn't even a little bit of a good smile. What the Hell was he--he couldn't possibly--"You think you've got a choice? If you weren't such a great piece of ass, someone would've slapped you around by now--teach you a good lesson 'bout keeping that mouth shut--"
Oh fuck, oh fuck, he was pulling off Gakuto's shorts, oh fuck no, but he couldn't kick with Hiroe's body pressing him to the lockers and some damned lock slamming into his back when Hiroe shoved his hips against Gakuto's, his cock against Gakuto's belly, couldn't he see that Gakuto wasn't even just a little hard? But that breath washed over him in a hot, sweat-stinking wind, Gakuto turned his face away so that the slobbery lips couldn't get him, this wasn't happening, it couldn't be happening, ouch, what the Hell did Hiroe think he was doing, grabbing his crotch like that--ow, what the--
No, this wasn't going to happen, it wasn't--
Yuushi!
An instant later, Hiroe was on the floor, and Gakuto could breathe again, could slump to the floor, gasping--thank the fucking gods, maybe Atobe had come in and pulled him off, 'cause Hiroe was enough of a dumbass to forget to lock the clubroom door--
But then he couldn't breathe, because he'd never seen his roommate so totally pissed
It wasn't in the mouth. The mouth was smooth, and relaxed, and easy. Maybe that was why that dumb Hiroe was still grinning; it was a damned good thing for Hiroe that Gakuto wasn't a girl, 'cause he'd never have fucked a guy whose stupidity could be passed on to future generations if he'd been one.
Because anyone who could read even a little bit of Oshitari's expression behind the glasses and had even a little bit of sense would have been running for cover so fast that they'd have left tennis shoe skid marks on the ground.
Hell, if Gakuto hadn't still been trying to breathe, he'd have been running for cover.
"Whatsa matter, Glasses?" Hiroe sneered, up at Oshitari, as he pushed himself up off the floor. "Aw, c'mon. No need to get all pissy about things. Want a piece of the bitch? We can share. Teach him a lesson--"
Oh, fuck.
Oshitari's expression didn't change when he kicked Hiroe in the balls. Once. Twice. Three times. Drawing his leg back, leisurely, before slamming forwards. Easy. As slow and smooth as if he were doing suburi outside on the courts into an early wind after warm-ups. Oh, geez, Hiroe'd been hard, Gakuto'd felt it against his stomach, and holy shit that had to hurt--
Never mind that Hiroe couldn't even scream--his eyes bugging out so wide that Gakuto was more than a little surprised they weren't rolling on the floor, curled up into a tiny little bundle with his mouth open, and he didn't look so big anymore, not next to a very, very angry Oshitari Yuushi.
Whose face didn't change even when he grabbed Hiroe by the collar--dragged him to the clubroom door--dumped him outside--holy shit, he hadn't known that Yuushi was that strong...
The expression didn't even twitch when Yuushi adjusted his glasses, and cocked his head at Gakuto, his hair stuck to his cheeks--it'd been stuck to his cheeks like that, last night, but last night, Yuushi hadn't brushed it back with a careless push of those long, knowing fingers.
"You're not going near him again. Ever," his partner informed him, pleasantly, and Gakuto found those long hands dry and cool through his when Yuushi reached out and gently lifted him to his feet--so pleasantly that Gakuto was standing already, and Yuushi's fingers were gently testing over the swelling bruises at the base on his throat by the time he realised what the Hell his partner was talking about. "These are going to show through your uniform tomorrow."
Gakuto's mouth fell open, and he shoved himself back to stability, not leaning against the lockers, and definitely not leaning forwards into his roommate. Yuushi was fucking telling him what to do? What. The. Hell?! It was a shiver that coursed down his back, Yuushi never told him what to do, never--wait, no, I don't think you should go, he'd said, last night, come, now, but his eyes were angrier. What right did he have to be angry? "Why the Hell not?"
"In case you didn't notice, he was planning to rape you, Gakuto!" Yuushi's eyes were full of dark fire and darker silk and bright red comforters at night-time under lamplight... no! It wasn't passion there, because Yuushi never let anything creep out from under the ice, but... "Do you like that, too?"
Oh, fuck, right, he'd said he liked it rough, with bruises, last night, hadn't he?
"What do you care, anyway?" Gakuto spat. There wasn't any way he was going to take that back. "It's not like you give a flying fuck. No strings, right?"
Oh.
Shit.
That... that wasn't at all what he'd meant to say.
Yuushi just looked at him for one long moment, and Gakuto waited, his hackles up, shit, this hurt, his chest hurt in long spears that felt like maybe they were going to send diamond-edged bits to every little corner of his body, for Yuushi to agree, because of course Oshitari never gave a fuck about much of anything, and that included what the Hell happened to the bruises on Gakuto's back.
But he'd left an ice pack in the freezer.
His fingers were rough, callused, and so gentle as he stroked Gakuto's bruises, .
And, finally, those lips curved into a bitter little smile, and Yuushi's thumbs came to rest in the hollow of his collarbone, spread across his shoulders like wings. "Who said?"
Gakuto felt his heart stop with one sharp thump that echoed through his chest. Or maybe it'd stopped breaking. He wondered, distantly if Yuushi could feel it. He couldn't... that expression on that face he'd gotten to know so well wasn't familiar at all, and hadn't Oshitari said that everything would be just the same?
"Wh-what?" he meant it to be a shriek. Something to show Yuushi how angry he was, 'cause, no strings, right? But it came out a weird, broken little whisper. Like someone had grabbed his little heart, and it was beating in his throat, now, hiccuping because it wasn't working quite right. He was Mukahi Gakuto, and he didn't care about things like hearts or caring or... breaking. He didn't, he didn't--
"Who says I don't want strings, Ga-ku-to?" Gakuto felt the way his name stretched in Oshitari's mouth as if Yuushi were grabbing him by the neck and pulling him to pieces, like the sudden quiet bitterness in that smile was digging into his stomach in a rush of acid. Gods, he didn't ever want to see Yuushi's smile so melted with something that wasn't brilliance or smug satisfaction. "If I'm not mistaken--it was you who wanted that. I was willing to abide by your decision. That's all. So don't ascribe your own preferences to me."
Oshitari turned to go, and it was like watching him head back into his room last night, leaving Gakuto standing by the window--except worse, because this was in sunlight not lamplight, and something was broken inside Gakuto, and maybe that was bad, or maybe he'd needed to break it--"Yuushi?"
His roommate sounded... he sounded so tired. "What, Gakuto."
He definitely didn't like hearing Yuushi like that. There were so many things he wanted to say, but... damn it, none of them were coming out of his mouth. His partner would understand, right? He... he always understood. "Yuushi, you..." Gakuto had to swallow to get out the rest of it. "You don't ever want strings. I thought... right?"
Oshitari stopped walking, and that was good--that was good, wasn't it? He was going to agree, but if he was going to, why would he stop like that? "Why would you think that?" his voice was slow, and soft, and coolly deadly, and Gakuto couldn't see his eyes.
"'Cause..." it was true, wasn't it? Gakuto's nails raked across the locker, flaking orange paint under his neat, trimmed nails. "No-one ever leaves you. You always leave them. You know. After you get what you want."
And fuck. Fuck, he sounded so bitter. Maybe he was. 'Cause... there was the truth, right there, for him to look at and wonder if he'd see himself bleeding if he looked at it for too long.
One fucking long heartbeat later, Gakuto was plastering himself against the wall--not hard enough for it to hurt, nowhere near hard enough for it to hurt, because... oh shit oh shit he wasn't actually scared Yuushi was going to hit him, but oh God Yuushi was mad again, and this time, it was at him. Gakuto was pretty sure that Yuushi had been shorter than Hiroe the last he'd checked, thinner, but he seemed twice as terrifying--with Oshitari's hands pressed to the wall on either side of his head, and the violet in those eyes swallowed up with how dark they were, and he couldn't see himself in them, not with Yuushi's glasses flashing like that before they nudged down his nose--and it was even scarier when Yuushi looked at him over the edge of them, and his eyes were sleek and opaque as a cat's without Gakuto's reflection.
"Look, you little idiot," his roommate snarled, and the way his voice echoed through the locker room--it wasn't fear that shook down Gakuto's spine. It wasn't being scared that made his knees want to just go liquid right out from under him. "Perhaps I am not being clear. Don't mistake what I do, or what you do, with anyone else, for what we have." Yuushi's face was too close to his, his mouth was hard and firm, and godgodgods how that mouth had felt like against his. "I wouldn't do that to you unless it was what you wanted. You are the one who did not want more. Do you understand me?"
I want this.
It surprised him, for a second, scared him almost, the way the words pulsed through his world--but just a second.
His fingers were on Yuushi's glasses before he even thought about just how stupid he was being when he pushed at the little bridge, nudging them back up where they were supposed to be, and the anger in that gaze faded a little--oh, good for him, he'd managed to confuse Yuushi just a little bit.
I want this.
Gakuto smiled, and that felt real--not the bruises, not the wall, just the way Oshitari was looking down at him and maybe for a second neither of them knew what they were doing. "You're sexy when you're mad," he observed--not objective, no way in Hell that was one of Yuushi's objective observations, and pushed away from the wall with his fingertips on the white plastery stuff. Almost into his roommate's chest. "Anyone ever tell you that, Yuushi?"
The eyes behind the glasses, the taut edge of Yuushi's cheekbones, softened, just a little, before they were back to being hard and slick as crystal when he stepped back from the wall and lifted his head, looking at a spot that was just over Gakuto's cherry-bright hair. "You are avoiding the issue. And I am not playing this game with you."
Gakuto took one step forwards, and looked up at his partner through his lashes--no-one really could ever turn him down when he gave them that look. That was, if he could get Yuushi to look at him. Right? "You won't even let me apologise to you?" he reached out, and Yuushi's skin was just as warm as he remembered under his fingers, the ripple of tendon along those forearms when he tensed--oooh, yeah.
Yuushi's mouth twitched, just a second, before it straightened out again--but yes, he'd gotten a smile, just a little one. "Gakuto, you never apologise for anything."
Well. Yeah, but... "What if I want to?"
I want this.
But those eyes were on his again, just a moment, before Yuushi shrugged, and began to turn away. "Then you can buy me dinner. That's what you chose, isn't it?"
That... that was... damn it, his partner was just not cooperating.
Well, he'd worked on people more hard-headed than Oshitari Yuushi. Maybe. Okay, people who were straighter than Oshitari Yuushi, anyway. Which was close enough.
Gakuto grinned, and cocked his head. "Well... I guess I am pretty hungry."
That got him a look--almost startled, violet eyes going a little wider behind those glasses when Yuushi's face turned down towards him.
The eyes were wider still when Gakuto reached out to lay his fingertips against Yuushi's chest--the familiar coarse rough of the Regular jersey--and trailed it down, slow friction, a slower caress, oh yeah this was his game, this was what he knew how to play, and his mouth was dry already with anticipation when he licked his lips. Maybe Yuushi's chest looked different by sunlight than by lamplight. "Starving, even," the smile started low in him, curling upwards, touching the edge of his lips--no-one ever said no to him, not when he made it damned clear what he wanted. "Maybe you could make me another... snack?" Oooh, that'd be good...
He saw Yuushi's Adam's apple jump, once, when he swallowed--and his voice was very, very quiet, a sexy rough rasp. "Tempting, Gakuto."
Yes! Victory tasted so good, and Gakuto grinned, maybe he'd steal just one kiss--
Yuushi's hand removed Gakuto's from his chest, and dropped it; his voice was just as quiet, just as cool, when he murmured, "...but no."
And something went crack inside Gakuto when his roommate turned away, started walking away, a hot splintering pain--maybe whatever was holding him upright had just broken, because all of a sudden his back was to the wall again, and his knees were going brittle as ice melting, the smile biting his lips with frost before he dropped it, and he almost reached out towards that familiar smooth back--almost called back out, almost said--
I want this.
Yuushi didn't ever look back. He didn't ever look back, didn't ever look when he was supposed to--and Gakuto was tired, that was why he was leaning against the wall--so damned tired of the head games, and too much thinking, and maybe there wasn't anything that would erase the way Oshitari's skin had felt against his, and the way Yuushi's mouth curved into a little smile when he was asleep and he had such long, dark lashes--Gakuto'd only looked in on him for a second, just a second.
It would be okay if they were just friends, right? They were, they were, that was why Yuushi wasn't going to sleep with him. Which was pretty damned funny, because... wasn't that why Gakuto hadn't wanted to fuck Yuushi in the first place?
He could still look in on Yuushi sleeping, some nights, right, even if Yuushi didn't look back, right?
You're such a bastard, Yuushi, but his throat was too empty and aching to say it.
But halfway through the clubroom, Yuushi looked back. Over his shoulder.
I want you.
It took one very, very, very long second for Gakuto to realise that he'd said it aloud.
One long second for Yuushi to see him leaning against the wall, and he tried to push away, but damned this hurt, damned he didn't want...but without Yuushi standing there, without the silk warmth of his body a hand's length away and Yuushi's shadow falling over him, the clubroom's sunlight was frost on his skin, the fine, fine hairs on his forearms prickling--he was shivering, suddenly, hunched over with his arms around himself, but his hands were freezing all the same.
But then Oshitari was on him, picking him up, and gods that mouth, that mouth--the kissing had been good last night, he remembered it being good, but how could it have been this good--how could it have swept into him, down him, driving the cold before it as strong arms came hot around him, and the contrast made his mouth fall open as much as the shock. Gods he was hard again already, but that was okay because... because Yuushi was, too, he could feel it, rocking between his thighs when he hooked his leg over Oshitari's hip, oh yeah.
"You're such a little idiot, Gakuto," Yuushi murmured, but it was against Gakuto's mouth, it was with Yuushi holding him, his heat melting all of Gakuto's insides, Yuushi wasn't walking out the clubroom door, and he heard himself moan.
Yuushi was way, way too good at getting him out of his clothes, Gakuto decided. Even without the ripping and tearing stuff--he could've sworn he hadn't had time to so much as blink before his shirt was sitting in a corner of the clubroom in a little pile, oh, yeah, he didn't have his shorts and boxers on anymore, but it wasn't cold anymore, the sunlight was just sunlight. And oh gods, Yuushi's hand was on him, his thumb brushing glistening wet over the head of him in a long, slow stroke that just about arched Gakuto off the bench where Yuushi had put him down, the exhaustion rolling off him and away from the fluid heat that dripped from where Yuushi's tongue was moving in a long, sleek slide over the inside of his thigh. "Nnn," Gakuto whimpered, but Hell, he wasn't trying to be coherent. He hadn't thought--but then Yuushi'd turned--"You... gonna... give it to me... how I like it?"
He gasped as teeth sank gently into the ticklish bit of skin just beside his knee--and again as Yuushi soothed the bite with a slow lap of that tongue, and his partner was smiling again when he stepped back and pulled off his own shirt, letting his jersey, his tennis shorts, fall to the ground, and that felt so good, the smile warm little tickles of invisible sensation on his skin. "You didn't like it last night?"
Last night, on top of Yuushi's bed with Gakuto being able to see himself in those violet eyes, and that cock stroking leisurely and raw inside him, slow rocking as his roommate watched him, that mouth molten sex against his lips... gods. Gakuto moaned, and buried his fingers in that hair, tugging, his back arching as Yuushi moved upwards, that tongue sliding slow over the base of his cock and fingers cupping his balls in leisurely strokes. "Bastard, you know I did." And gods, he'd never forget the way it felt, never ever. "It's just... c'mon, Yuushi, pound me into the wall."
"Goodness, you are pushy," Oshitari laughed, but Gakuto'd always liked seeing him laugh like that. He liked it better now that the chill edge of blue was gone from his roommate's eyes--hey, wait, when'd it gone? "I do hope you have lube secreted somewhere, because you do remember what happened the last time you called me a bastard, don't you?"
His smile was a slow roll of pure sex, upwards at the corners, and... Oh god. Ohgod, yes. Oh, god, he had the most amazing mouth ever. "Locker," Gakuto squeaked out, past the slow curls of Yuushi's tongue over the very tip of him, the tiniest catch just under the head. "D-damn, you really like sucking cock, don't you...?"
"No, not particularly," Oshitari murmured, but the way his lips were moving in a long, rocking slide over him, vibrating with his words when he reached past Gakuto into the cubbyhole, fumbled--gods, why didn't Gakuto believe that? Especially not when those lips, oh geez, tightened in a smile. "I'm just very good at it."
Well, okay. Yeah. Oh, yeah, he was. There had to be something he could say to that, but it really was hard when it felt like Yuushi was licking away every inch of his mind, empty and damp before... oh, gods, oh gods, he almost fell off the bench when Yuushi gave him two fingers, not just one--damn, Gakuto was impressed, he must've gotten the tube open and lube on his fingers one-handed--pushing him open with one slick stroke--scissoring his fingers inside him--oh, wow yeah that was incredible just how the tips of his fingers just about danced over just the right spots in the most teasing little nudges, and if Yuushi's other arm hadn't been wrapped around his waist, Gakuto was pretty sure he'd have squirmed himself right off the bench. Damned locker room.
Yuushi was way too into being careful, Gakuto was going to have to break him of that. Then again, the way Yuushi was watching Gakuto's eyes, that slow little smile on his face... he'd never, ever seen that smile before, that was new, that was special... Next time, maybe. Oh. Yeah. 'Cause there was definitely gonna be a next time. Gakuto grinned at the thought. "What's the matter, Yuushi? Not gonna--ooooh," there went the dancing fingers again, and there went the rest of what he'd been thinking, "do me tight again?"
On the other hand, damn, he was as good with his fingers as he was with his cock. Gakuto wouldn't've been all that surprised if Yuushi could make him come just trying to get him ready for the real thing, if he ever stopped fooling around and just fluttering the tips of his fingers like that--
Damn it, his roommate had to be psychic. Because there really wasn't any way to explain the way Yuushi gave him three fingers just that second, stretching--and with a "Didn't you say last night that you wanted me to be creative?" Gakuto felt his partner curl his fingertips and send fire the same gold as that tanned skin streaking down every single one of Gakuto's nerves, hot on the heels of those smooth lips wrapping around the head of his cock all over again, just holding him there. "So I'm going to give you what you want."
Gakuto heard himself scream, high and thin--and an instant later, he couldn't scream past Yuushi's mouth moving against him, down him, curved and taut and smiling.
"You are loud," Yuushi murmured when he pulled off, so seriously, but there was laughter in his eyes along with all that heat when he slid his fingers out, and Gakuto whimpered at how empty it was. Damn it, he was way too close to the edge. Damn it, Yuushi's laughing did the weirdest, shakiest things to his insides. "Do you really want the rest of the Regulars to know what we're up to?"
"Don't care," Gakuto whimpered--before he grinned, just a little. "B'sides. Hiroe's blocking the door anyway."
Oops. Maybe that hadn't been the right thing to say--'cause Yuushi's eyes went darker for a second, almost black behind his glasses with just the tiniest little ring of violet and not even a little bit of laughter, before he stood up, and something went clunking down the bench beside Gakuto, and he wasn't wearing his glasses anymore. What the Hell was he up to--
Gakuto didn't have time to ask, before his partner picked him up in one long sexy spine-curling motion and left his feet dangling as he kicked away the bench.
Whoa. Wait. Wait, wait, seriously, Yuushi knew he had a bruise, he'd gotten him an ice pack, what the Hell was he thinking wanting to fuck him up against the lockers?!
Gakuto tried to squirm away, shocked, but Oshitari was already pushing his knees up, one arm wrapped around the arc of his back--what the Hell, this wasn't right! He'd wanted this, yeah, but he didn't want Yuushi to fuck him the way Hiroe'd been fucking him, Yuushi was his roommate and Yuushi wouldn't hurt him like that--
But when his back came to rest against the cool metal, Gakuto blinked--because nothing was hitting his bruise. Maybe Yuushi'd put him up against the middle of the locker. It wouldn't help, Gakuto was pretty sure, 'cause when Yuushi thrust it'd shove him upwards and the locks were staggered, he'd end up pressed against one anyway--but if he'd done this with Hiroe, he couldn't say no to the one guy he'd really wanted, even if it did leave him with new bruises, could he? Maybe it'd be different. Maybe it'd be--
No. Gods. No.
Gakuto's mouth fell open in a strangled little yelp as his roommate slid into him--one long, smooth stroke that drove him up against the locker, and he waited for the familiar pain of that damned lock shoving into his poor bruised back--but all he felt was cool metal, drowning in the heat of that fullness inside him, a good stretching ache that became a better pulse of sheer zinging pleasure as Yuushi hit all the right places, that flat stomach stroking up the length of his cock--and, it didn't hurt, it didn't, not at all...
The flick of silver caught his eye first.
Gakuto looked down, past Yuushi's shoulder, at the combination lock lying beside his roommate's glasses on the bench, with its little loop open and dull as pewter, except where it would've chafed and shone against the locker.
Yuushi'd... he'd...
Yuushi reached for his lips, and by the time he broke away, Gakuto figured out he'd wrapped his legs around that slim, powerful waist, his arms over Yuushi's shoulders, clinging--and really realised that there wasn't any way he was letting go when his roommate murmured, "It doesn't hurt, right?" and his fingertips, free now that Gakuto was clinging onto him, came to rest just above Gakuto's hipbone in the back, his palm cushioning Gakuto's bruises against a lock that wasn't even there anymore.
For the first time in a long time, Gakuto really, really felt like smiling.
"No," he managed to whisper, past the choking lump in his throat that felt as big as a bruise, past the way his eyes were burning, past the way it all felt so right and it didn't have anything to do with just the cock inside him. "Doesn't... doesn't hurt at all," and he buried his face in Yuushi's shoulder so Yuushi wouldn't have to see the way the tears felt good, too.
But maybe that was because it was hard this time, not last night's slow, slow sexy rocking--fast the way he liked it--a quick fuck, maybe, but not short jabs--long, sharp strokes, all the way in and all the way out without even enough time for Gakuto to get his breath back in between before he was being filled like that again--and Yuushi's mouth was on his, so he couldn't breathe anyway, didn't want to, he was melting hot and crying hotter and clawing at Yuushi's back but the way his partner's hand cushioned him against the lockers didn't even twitch, didn't hurt him even when he was sure his nails were raking across his partner's shoulders, and gods any second now he was going to just come apart and would he see his reflection in Yuushi's gaze go to pieces if he did--?
But... how close was... wait, wait, he hung onto sanity with his teeth and nails, twisting away from those intoxicating lips so he could bite his own and let the pain dilute the pleasure for a second so he could see the way Yuushi gasped, his face tightening until crinkles radiated from the corners of his closed eyes when Gakuto tightened up around him, clenching around that cock--oh, wow, the look on Oshitari's face before he wrenched his eyes open again and smiled, tight and hot and surprisingly... certain.
He'd always liked it when Yuushi felt like that.
"Yuushi?" he whispered, his mouth pressed to the curb of that long throat. Gods, he could feel the coarse hiss of it when Yuushi breathed, and it was one thing to know that everyone found him hot, and something else to figure out that he could make his partner's breath go all raspy like that... "Wanna... wanna see... you let go."
The long thrusts slowed, stopped, and Gakuto whimpered in disappointment--or maybe it was relief, 'cause he really wasn't sure he could've hung on even a second longer and he did want to see his roommate come--but Yuushi's hair brushed wet across his forehead as his roommate bowed his head and smiled at him. "Well, then," his voice was slow, smooth, deliberate--he could've been asking about when their next match was going to be or what they were having for dinner. "Do you now?"
"Mmmhmm," Gakuto nodded, eyes closed. Why'd he stop--?
He cracked one eye open just in time to catch the smile getting sexy enough to melt him into little bits all on its own--before the world wrenched out of focus, everything a blur but the way Yuushi's lashes shadowed his eyes when his roommate slammed into him--hard enough that Gakuto choked with it, all that smooth wet velvety sensation climbing up his body until he wondered muzzily if he even needed to have his cock stroked.
Geez. Geez, Oshitari definitely had a thing for having Gakuto looking at him during sex, didn't he, he'd have to remember that, Hell, he didn't think he'd ever be able to forget...
"That's..." one thrust, and it surprised him tight as Oshitari growled, into the hair at Gakuto's temple, "something..." another, deeper, right there angled just the right way, Gakuto's mouth fell open, his head back, "you're going to..." Yuushi's lips skimmed over the curve of his ear, teeth, just a hint of teeth, oh yeah, "...have to work for..." Gakuto wailed as the tip of a tongue traced across a whorl, or something, wet and hot before Yuushi slid into him, out, in again, one fast thrust so arrhythmic he was surprised his galloping heart didn't just go 'pop' with it, "don't you think?"
He really wasn't thinking anymore--not when he whimpered, cried, pleaded, he didn't know what the Hell he was saying, he didn't care, not when Yuushi was giving him exactly what he'd asked for, but it was different when he didn't dare close his eyes 'cause maybe Yuushi'd stop, and watching Yuushi's eyes with his pupils drowning out the purple, his smile fading... and in those eyes, Gakuto could see his own reflection, his own eyes wide and drowning in everything that Yuushi was giving him--geez, those narrowed, dark eyes got Gakuto harder--almost--than the pressure inside and the sweet jabs of pure hot sweet ohsofuckinggood--
It all crashed over him, tumbling him down like he was going to break into a thousand little pieces, every muscle in his body going tight and hot and hard as he arced, rubbing up against Yuushi's belly, gods he was so close, gods he was so close--just a little more, and he'd fall, wasn't it funny how his partner never let him fall--
And then Yuushi said his name, once, softly, and those gorgeous eyes went blind and blank right in front of him the second before Yuushi leaned down and licked him, just over a bruise, his mouth latching over it hard enough for it to hurt. Almost. No. Gods. Yes.
Gakuto fell.
No.
Not falling.
Flying, sobbing almost except it felt like laughing, and this was what he'd missed in the game today, this was exactly what he'd wanted, and Yuushi was wrapped around him, so deeply inside him, that mouth hot and sweet and real on Gakuto's neck when Gakuto's back spasmed, almost hard enough to knock his head into the lockers, and maybe he was screaming when the fire took over and melted him into drops of red and white and the tiny, tiny little edge of violet that was left in Yuushi's eyes.
Maybe he was screaming, but it was the screaming when he knew the cord would be there to catch him when he hit the bottom of his jump, and Yuushi was warm gold, firm and there under his nails and against his neck and between his lips when Gakuto yanked his partner to him and kissed him until they'd both stopped shaking, and started breathing again.
His knees almost bumbled to nothing when Oshitari finally lowered him, and his feet touched the ground, but Gakuto grabbed the handle of one of the lockers to keep himself up--which was fine, 'cause Yuushi'd just grabbed him, one hand plastered to the bank of lockers, the other gripping onto Gakuto's shoulder.
It took both of them a second, maybe, to realise that Yuushi's knees had almost given out, too--and then they looked at each other and grinned.
Gakuto grinned wider when he realised his roommate's smug grin was maybe just a little sheepish. Maybe just a little, around the edges there. No-one else would've been able to see it, he was pretty damned certain. He was equally sure he'd never seen anything so cute in his life, and sure as Hell he never thought he'd be calling his roommate, well, 'cute,'
So maybe he could hold Yuushi up, sometimes, too.
Damned, but he hadn't felt this fine in... in... ever. Never. Whatever.
He plopped his head forwards on his roommate's shoulder with a happy sigh, and his hair fell around his face. Oh, that'd been good. Just what he'd needed. Just exactly what he'd needed. Not someone else's cock--Yuushi's smile, Yuushi's eyes drowning the violet in lust, and he was never going to be able to get the feel of him off his skin now, was he...? "You're not too bad," he admitted, but he could taste sweat on his lips and on Yuushi's collarbone when he mouthed at it. Okay, it definitely didn't sound as smooth as he'd planned to sound, not when he wasn't quite breathing the way he'd been fifteen minutes ago. Or maybe it'd been longer. Who knew? "And!" he added, triumphantly, "You came before me."
He hadn't, not really--near as Gakuto could figure, they'd come at pretty much the same time--but if Oshitari was anything like him, maybe he wouldn't even notice? Gakuto was pretty sure the world went all white and empty whenever he came, when the sex was good enough, and if that hadn't been good, well, then he'd really been missing out.
Besides, with his roommate, he was kind of going to need every ace he had.
Yuushi just laughed at him. "I most certainly did not," he murmured, in that slow, rough voice. Mmm-mm-mmm. He was definitely gonna have to get Yuushi to talk dirty to him again sometime. Even if it meant that Oshitari was going to have something else to hold over him, 'cause damn, having his roommate talk dirty to him could probably put Gakuto pretty close to climbing the walls with how bad he'd want to be fucked after Yuushi was done... Damn, well, he'd tried. "I think you'll need a good deal more work before you even come close to making me come without satisfying you, Gakuto."
This really was kind of a pointless thing to talk about, because why the Hell would he want Yuushi to come without getting him off, too... but at the same time, the thought of watching Oshitari completely losing it, every thought flying out of that genius head... mmmh, damn, he could get hard just thinking about it again.
The full-of-myself-thank-you smile on Yuushi's face made it pretty damned clear he could feel Gakuto's cock against his leg.
Gakuto wrinkled his nose at him. Smug Oshitari. Smug sexy Oshitari. Some things just damned well never changed. "What makes you think you're worth the trouble of... of... y'know. Working on?" Gakuto tilted his chin up in challenge--damn it, that really didn't work too well when Oshitari was pretty much tall enough to tuck Gakuto underneath his chin if he wanted to. Wonder how that felt like...?
"You said so yourself," Yuushi grinned down against him, and reached over to the bench for his glasses. He left the lock. Far as Gakuto was concerned, it could stay there. He wasn't going to ask how Yuushi'd gotten it off, 'cause that definitely wasn't his roommate's Regular locker. "No-one ever leaves me."
Bastard.
Like always.
Gakuto had to laugh, burying his face in his Yuushi's neck for a moment before he pushed away from the lockers and slipped out. Okay, maybe he wasn't going to take a bath in the room, 'cause, Hell, he was a mess. He was naked already, anyway. Maybe Yuushi wanted to share a shower in the locker room? He hadn't ever done that, but it'd always sounded like fun... "Maybe I'll be different?" he suggested over his own shoulder, grinning, but he didn't mean it. Not really. Not even a little bit.
Oshitari's mouth curved into that slow little 'I understand you so well,' smile as he leaned against the side of the lockers and just watched, gods that was sexy. "I doubt it," he smiled, and for some reason--weird, huh?--Gakuto didn't mind. "Besides, what in the world makes you think I'm ever going to want to leave you?" Oshitari shrugged, a slow roll of his shoulders, all tucked golden muscle. "You're my partner. Separately, we're certainly competent individuals, but together, we're superb."
Yeah. He was Oshitari's partner. He was, maybe that was the end of it, and... maybe it wasn't. Maybe that was why Gakuto stopped walking, because he'd never been much good at head games, but he'd never really been much good at saying what he really, really wanted to say when he wasn't just being funny, either. "I..." he cleared his throat, once, and looked down at his hands. "I kinda wasn't talking about tennis."
But he could almost hear it when Oshitari just smiled, and Gakuto squeaked, because Oshitari's lips were firm and gentle on Gakuto's nape. It was such a little kiss--the softest little press that echoed like a beginning down his spine when his roommate's arms came around him, pulling him against that firm chest.
A hug. He'd never had a hug before. Not from anyone he'd slept with.
"Neither was I," Oshitari purred, low into his ear. "I think we want a shower, don't you?"
~owari~
Start: January 22, 2004
End: April 16, 2004 (Wow. This fic went through a lo-ong moratorium period... *laugh*)
Aaaaand, it's done. ^_^ Monstrous, yes. Not-quite-satisfying smut, yes. At the same time... this is a bunny that was trying to eat my brain for a long, long time, and, well... it's sometimes really nice to go back to something. Right, becchan? *snug the imouto*
The title--well, I suppose you could call it a pun, of a sort. "Makka na uso," 'a scarlet lie,' is what the Japanese call a full-out lie with no truth to it--and, well, I thought it was a nice comparison to what these two boys were going through, for awhile. ^_^
Wow. *laugh* It's been awhile since I genuinely felt that what I was writing had devolved so horridly into OOCness, but... this needed to get done, neh? ^_^