Happy Spring kish_t_rethya!
Title: What a picture is worth
Recipient's name: kish_t_rethya
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): Inui/Fuji, with hints of Atobe/Ryoma, Tezuka/Ryoma and Fuji/Eiji
Disclaimer: please use the standard disclaimer!
Warnings: Bad puns and gratuitous sexual innuendo.
Author's Notes: I love your fic Kish, as many of us do, so I really hope you enjoy this ♥. Thank you to my betas for everything - any mistakes left are my own. While it isn't essential, knowledge of Kish's fic Manipulation will mean you get a couple of jokes. Also, Inui stalking Atobe for data is Rajipuri canon.
To Inui, dates were inherently useful things, and so it was downright confusing when a certain type of date seemed to defy all of his previous experiences with the concept.
Dates were essential to his data collection in many different senses of the word. They had enabled him to measure the Seigaku team's progress over time. They had enabled him to develop the training menus that had contributed to Seigaku's win over Rikkai Dai at Nationals.
And now that he'd toned down said menus to a level that didn't leave people wondering whether the team slept at night, they had enabled him to begin updating his data on the more promising first and second years in Seigaku's tennis club.
He had, however, run into an unexpected snag, and while there was an eighty-seven percent chance that Fuji could help him solve this problem, the odds on whether Fuji would choose to do so were another matter entirely. Still, the only way to find out was to ask, and that was why Inui found himself outside of the darkroom in classroom 11 one lunch time, waiting for an answer to his knock.
"Okay, you can come in now Inui." A lock clicked open and Kikumaru peered into classroom 11 with a grin, beckoning. "Have to go, Fujiko," he continued, hefting his backpack and bounding towards the main classroom door. "Momo owes me lunch and I've decided that today's the day. Bye bye!"
The familiar, yet unidentifiable smell of chemicals assaulted Inui's nostrils as he stepped into the makeshift darkroom, where print after black-and-white print glowed almost eerily down at him in the dim red light.
"Ah, Fuji," Inui greeted, blinking in the darkness.
"Hello, Inui." Fuji turned, smiling, from where he was pegging the photos to a line hanging over the bench. He leaned around Inui to flick the regular light switch on.
Inui blinked again, trying to readjust to the brighter light so he could study the photographs more closely. Slightly blurry images of a large stuffed bear, a dumpster, and Momoshiro swatting Echizen over a burger in McDonalds contrasted sharply with pristine shots of what looked like cactus spines, an array of tools on a bench, and a neat row of paper cranes laid out on a window sill.
"Some interesting perspectives there, Fuji." Inui automatically opened his notebook. "The hatchet and chainsaw contrast nicely with the origami."
"Thank you," Fuji beamed over his shoulder. "I really like how they've turned out. Well, except for this one." Inui watched as Fuji hung up a final photograph of Saint Rudolph's Mizuki, who was attempting to remove something dark and sticky-looking from his shirt. "While I'm personally very satisfied with it, I'm not sure it meets the requirements for my assignment."
"Heh." Inui grinned. "What are the requirements?"
"A candid action shot."
"Hmmm." The odds of Fuji agreeing to help him had definitely just slanted in his favor.
Fuji turned, leaning back against the bench and peering up. "So, Inui. Was there something you wanted, or did you just drop by to admire my stalking abilities?"
"Funny you should mention that." Inui tilted his head, catching the fluorescent light on his glasses just so. "I think we might be able to help each other out."
"Oh?"
~ π ~
"I had no idea that you'd added breaking and entering to your data collection repertoire, Inui," Fuji said merrily. "Should I put extra locks on my windows?"
Inui didn't bother looking down. "Echizen Nanjiroh-san knows we're here, Fuji. You don't think this ladder just appeared out of nowhere, do you?" He pushed at the window in front of him, which was open just as Echizen-san had said it would be, and crawled into the attic of the shed behind the Echizen's tennis court. Fuji wasn't far behind him.
"I assume that knocking at the front door wasn't as much fun as this idea, then," Fuji continued.
"And not have an easy escape route if we're caught? I'm sure you know that I've considered every angle, Fuji." Inui crawled over the dusty floorboards to the far window, setting his backpack and juice flask down and beginning to pull out equipment. "Besides, the Echizens are out this evening, so there would be no one to answer our knock, and if my data on your extracurricular interests is correct then you like the idea of sneaking round like this just as much as I do."
Fuji grinned twenty-eight percent wider than usual, but said nothing. He settled down on the other side of the window and unpacked his tripod and digital camera, testing the line of sight and fiddling with the focus. "What kind of data on Echizen did you have to offer Echizen-san in trade for this?" he asked shrewdly, peering through the viewfinder. Inui chuckled.
"I'm to report back immediately on any dates that Echizen either makes or accepts with any girls. Names, dates, places, physical contact; the usual data."
"Ah, I see. So cruel, Inui."
"It's for the greater good, Fuji." Inui shifted back from the window a little as the creak of a gate signaled an arrival. Three seconds later, two figures sauntered into view by the court. Inui opened notebooks labeled "Echizen Ryoma" and "Hyoutei Gakuen: Atobe Keigo" to fresh pages, and tapped at the paper with his pen. "I want to leave Echizen the most comprehensive training menu possible when we graduate. It's in Seigaku's best interest that I leave no stone unturned."
"Mm. So honorable, too," Fuji smiled, adjusting his focus again and taking a test shot. "I see that Kabaji-kun hasn't made it."
"Yes, interesting," Inui replied, already taking notes. "My data indicates that he accompanies Atobe approximately seventy-six percent of the time, so this is definitely unusual."
"Even when he showers?"
Inui snapped his head around to look at Fuji, but his expression was nothing out of the ordinary. "How did you know I'd taken data in Atobe's bathroom?"
"I didn't." Fuji turned to look back at him, eyes wide and full of laughter, and Inui had the oddest sensation of his glasses being completely transparent for approximately 2.3 seconds. "Ii data, Inui."
Inui grit his teeth and let out a breath, wondering briefly if the payoff of these shots was going to be worth Fuji's teasing. Well. Okay, of course it was going to be, but still... the fact that Fuji seemed able to extract data out of him so effortlessly was more irritating than it should have been, especially since he had to work so hard for every piece of Fuji's.
Out on the court, the bouncing of a ball interrupted Inui's thoughts -- the bounce-pattern indicated that it was Echizen who was preparing to serve -- and he shook his head to clear it a little before shifting into a better position by the window. He quickly lost himself in recording data; the scratch of his pencil and the clicking of both his stopwatch and Fuji's camera shutter the only noise during the four minutes and thirty-four seconds it took for Echizen to win the first game.
Atobe had taken the second, as expected, in three minutes and fifty-nine seconds before Fuji broke the relative silence.
"I'd better get these motion shots for you before the sun gets any lower." He reached into the bag beside him.
Inui felt a little confused. "Haven't you been taking them already?"
"Only the regular kind." He sat up a little and began screwing a different lens onto the front of his camera; a lens that Inui estimated to be approximately 17.2 centimeters long and about five hundred grams in weight. "I thought you wanted me to get up close and personal, Inui."
Inui blinked, watching as Fuji's fingers expertly twisted the lens in and out to test the focus. Two could play at that game.
"Of course. The closer, the better." He grabbed his juice bottle and took a sip. "Very impressive lens there, Fuji."
"Yumiko-neesan gave it to me on my last birthday." Fuji swiveled around on his knee and pointed the lens into Inui's face before clicking open the shutter, grinning. "She knows exactly what toys I like."
"So I see." Inui was very pleased with how even his voice sounded. "I assume that bigger is better then, in the camera world?"
"Mm, I suppose," Fuji replied, snapping the camera back onto the tripod, "although we both know that it's not about the size of one's equipment, right? Only the quality of one's shots."
This time Inui choked on his juice. Down on the court, Echizen swiveled around at the noise and missed an easy backhand, taking a ball to his temple instead.
"Shhh, Inui." Fuji didn't bother to keep the laughter out of his voice. "You want them to know we're up here?"
Inui coughed into his sleeve, pulling a handkerchief out of his backpack and swiping at his mouth. "You clearly want this mission to fail, Fuji. Echizen's data is of utmost importance, you know." Thankfully, Echizen had returned to playing his match.
"Yes, yes, I know." Fuji shifted closer and held the camera's LCD screen out, which showed the ball caught perfectly in mid-bounce off the side of Echizen's head. "How's that for data?"
Inui wanted to reply, he really did, but Fuji's breath was warm and unexpected against his ear, and it momentarily threw him off. It didn't help that Fuji's hip was digging into his own, either.
"I love digital cameras for this," Fuji continued, as if nothing at all was wrong. "Such immediate gratification. Even if the chemical reaction of light on film produces a much more organic shot."
"I like chemistry," Inui mumbled, stupidly.
Fuji's eyes glinted green in the dying sunlight as he stared straight through Inui's glasses. "And I like reactions."
Fuji held his gaze for a moment longer than would normally be considered appropriate, and Inui felt the sudden urge to bring the conversation back into safe territory. "That's one piece of data that I've always had on you, Fuji."
Fuji just smiled an unknowable smile and went back to his camera. Inui tried to go back to his own recording, but Fuji hadn't moved, and it was difficult to concentrate when every second movement of his arm had him knocking Fuji's bicep, or brushing his knuckles against Fuji's knee. Fuji didn't seem the least bit concerned, for his part, and happily attempted shots of the Cyclone Smash that took the match to 5-4.
This was awkward. Even though Inui was eighty-four percent certain that Fuji was doing this deliberately, it unsettled him anyway, and when Fuji's fingers brushed over the top of his thigh for the fourth time in three minutes, he did the only thing he could think of to cover his awkwardness.
"Actually, I've been researching photography recently and the chemical reactions for imprinting an image on film are fascinating. Did you know that the density of developed film is proportional to the logarithm of the total amount of light to which the film was exposed? It’s all very mathematical. The digital photography process is fascinating too, though--"
"Inui."
"--the camera records the image as binary data for easy storage and analysis, so digital photography has been used since the early 1980s by NASA to predict the movements of the stars and planets--"
"Inui."
Inui turned his head. "Hm--?" He'd planned to keep on going, but it was difficult to speak when another mouth was being pressed up against his own.
"-buh?" said Inui, when Fuji let him speak again.
"That's funny," Fuji replied, breath warm against Inui's mouth. "I thought people looked to the stars for predictions of their own movements."
Inui blinked, trying to process an answer in amongst the misfire of his synapses. "No- no such thing, Fuji. Only data can accurately predict movements-"
Fuji kissed him again, longer this time, slow, and with a barely-there swipe of tongue across his bottom lip that sent Inui's blood rushing. "I see," Fuji murmured, the light streak of pink across his nose at odds with the confidence of his voice and actions. "Did... did your data predict that movement?"
Inui paused for a moment, his breathing irregular, his glasses slipping down his nose as he met Fuji's eyes with his own. He knew he should move away, knew that Fuji was playing a game he didn't know the rules to, but clearly his brain was in need of a reboot because his body wasn't responding to any of its commands at all. Well, except to let him shake his head in response to Fuji's question.
Fuji obviously took that as a positive sign, though, because then his mouth was back, his lips softer than anything Inui could have predicted, his tongue licking until Inui's mouth fell open with an involuntary groan, until Inui's notebooks fell to the ground beside them and his pencil rolled away into the darkness. Not that it mattered anyway, because then Fuji's tongue was in his mouth, sliding against Inui's, erasing his mind and turning all of his limbs into some kind of improbable jelly.
Inui wasn't sure how long it went on for, or even if he was doing it right, but there was only a pink afterglow left of the sunset and a distinct lack of noise from the court below when Fuji's mobile phone beeped with a message from his sister, telling him it was time to come home.
~ π ~
It was a popular habit among the girls at Seigaku to leave origami notes for others, especially in shoe alcoves. Inui had only ever had one before, and that had actually been for Kaidoh.
And it certainly hadn't been from a boy.
But when Inui arrived at school the next morning, there it was, a lucky star decorated with multicolored "^_^"s sitting there next to his slippers. He carefully unfolded the star into one long strip of paper and read the note within:
Gemini: An unusual meeting yields some unexpected, yet very promising results. Interesting images will be revealed if you visit perfectapples.co.jp/topsecretdata. Help is available from someone who's aided you before; all you need to do is ask. Your evil twin has some explaining to do. ^_^
Inui thought for a moment. In fact, Inui had been up thinking until 2.39 am the night before, so technically he thought for a moment more. Not that it seemed to be doing him any good; if anything, he felt even more confused than he had after Fuji had walked home.
He couldn't imagine why Fuji had kissed him. Was he bored? Playing a game? Wondering what experimental juice number eighty-four (Super Tenaci-Tea) tasted like? If it had been the latter, however, Fuji could have just asked for sip, so that made it only eleven percent likely. This was Fuji he was considering, though. Fuji, who seemed to make a habit of doing the most unlikely things possible, and so his thoughts had continued around and around in a never-ending circle.
When his questions had resulted in even fewer answers, he'd got to work sorting out the evening's data instead. Entering statistics into his database, plotting his variables and devising the following week's data collection schedule always had a soothing effect, even if the memory of Fuji's tongue persisted stubbornly on the edge of his thoughts, causing him to make four errors and take twenty-three minutes longer than average.
Now, there was Fuji's note to add to the mess in his head. On one hand it seemed to be poking fun at the uncertainty of their situation, and on the other it hinted at answers he wasn't even sure he knew the questions to. Inui sighed and massaged his temples, then reached into his pocket for his phone:
Cute, Fuji. I'd ask you why you didn't just text me like a normal person, but I know better. :) Thanks for the url, I'll look at lunchtime.
He debated for exactly 5.5 seconds on whether to add one more sentence, before sending the message as it was. Fuji's reply vibrated in his pocket only a minute later:
And I'd tell you that normality is overrated, and nowhere near as much fun, either, but I know better too. ^_^. Let me know if you have problems accessing the photos.
Well. That was par for the course. Inui pushed up his glasses and walked into class, determined to think about it later.
~ π ~
Lunchtime in the library was a busy affair of late, the low hum of students studying in groups for their upcoming exams reaching into even the farthest corners of the stacks.
Inui sat with his laptop in the private carrel he had calculated to have the best access to the teacher's wireless network, looking at the photos Fuji had posted and saving them off onto his hard-drive. He noted with interest that Fuji had some excellent security in place for hotlinkers - he certainly wouldn't want a photo of that popping up in place of a stolen image.
Almost all of Fuji's photos were useful - close-ups and full-length shots of Echizen's Twist Serve, Drive B, Cyclone Smash and split-step - and they definitely added the extra dimension to his data that he'd been looking for, but as he cataloged them all in his database, it still felt like something was missing.
Inui knew he could never get complete data on Echizen - the Seigaku freshman's tendency to evolve during a match, and his ability to attain Muga no Kyouchi, only opened the door to even more possibilities - so his aim had always been just to get as much useful data as possible.
Still, something was nagging at the edge of his consciousness. He hadn't seen the end of the match with Atobe, so perhaps he should try to observe Echizen again? He knew that they were playing another match at the end of the week, at the street courts this time, so there would be no need to bargain with Echizen Nanjiroh-san for the use of his back shed.
...the back shed. Fuji. So many questions and not enough answers; nowhere, not even when he had a quick poke around in Fuji's root directory:
Error 404 - directory not found.
It's not even worth bothering, Inui. ^_^
Inui grinned. As expected of Fuji. He packed up his laptop and walked out into the quadrangle. Of course he'd need to ask Fuji to help him out with photography again, but he'd do that later; right now, he had a phone call to make.
He flipped open his phone and hit speed-dial one, the phone ringing the usual 1.8 times before being answered.
"Aa. Inui."
"Tezuka. I'm currently compiling some in-depth data on Echizen's tennis. I've sent you a progress report, which you should find in your inbox along with some photos of his twilight match against Atobe last night at Echizen's home-"
The usual 'click' of Tezuka hanging up on him sounded in Inui's ear.
~ π ~
"I should have predicted that Echizen would be late," Inui murmured. It was twenty-three minutes and eleven seconds past eight pm and Atobe and Echizen still hadn't arrived. "I could have incorporated it into my schedule."
"Maybe they found something more interesting to do with their time?" Fuji replied.
Inui and Fuji had set themselves up on Yumiko's picnic blanket in a well-sheltered spot among the trees near the changing block. Inui had brought his usual essential data collection equipment: a notebook, two pencils, a green gel pen (which wrote very nicely), a stop-watch, a pair of infrared binoculars that he'd procured from Somewhere, a Swiss Army Knife with seven more attachments than standard, and a compact flashlight. He was appropriately dressed for the occasion too, in a black cap and a pair of cargo pants that were now slightly too short in the leg, although he'd stopped short at face paint.
Fuji, however, was taking the whole mission far less seriously.
"Oh, I like your binoculars, Inui. How big would you say those were?"
Inui jumped. He'd been jumping all evening. He was glad that only Fuji could see how nervous he was, or his carefully cultivated reputation as a cold and calculating Data Master might possibly have been in danger.
"A decent size. I haven't measured them." He was hardly going to admit that he'd brought them along merely to show them off.
"Can I touch them?"
Inui managed to hand them over without even raising an eyebrow. The last few days had been relatively normal. Well, as far as normal went, for Inui. It had been easy to pretend that nothing had happened when there was tennis to practice and homework to do and Kaidoh to train up, but now that they were alone together, Inui felt like there was an elephant sitting between them.
Fuji, on the other hand, seemed to be completely untroubled by it.
"Dessert, Inui?"
"Sorry?" Inui replied.
"Would you like some dessert?" Fuji asked again, giving Inui's binoculars back to him and pulling various containers out of his backpack. Inui wondered if the ichinen felt the same way about accepting drinks from him as he felt about accepting any kind of food from Fuji.
Even dessert. Especially dessert.
"Yumiko made apple pie tonight, but Yuuta couldn't make it at the last minute so I thought I'd bring some leftovers."
"Oh." Inui felt a sense of relief at the mention of Yumiko's name. It still didn't mean that wasabi hadn't been involved post-baking, but the odds were much more favorable. "All right."
Fuji set a plate down on the blanket in front of him. "Ta-da!" he said, waving his hands with a flourish.
"Thank you, Fuji." Inui took a bite, chewing carefully for a moment. "...Oh, it's just apple pie," he exclaimed, without any thought process between words and mouth. "I mean, well, it's not just apple pie, of course, but-"
Fuji laughed a little at the relief in Inui's voice, and leaned forward - "Yes, Inui. It's just apple pie," - and then he kissed him. Inui was so surprised that he dropped his still-laden fork in his lap.
Fuji shook his head. "Tch, now you've got your pants all sticky."
"Yes. So it would seem." Inui hunted around for a napkin and, finding none, he scooped the pie up and into his mouth with his fingers instead.
Fuji waited until Inui had finished swallowing before grabbing Inui's wrist, pulling it up towards his mouth, and Inui watched very attentively as Fuji sucked on each of his fingers in turn, even the ones that hadn't been covered in pie, and every little bit of nervousness in his body dissolved into something else entirely.
"How about you let me apologize properly, then?" Fuji replied, eyes open and heavy and his voice not sounding at all apologetic, and the words to the affirmative were barely out of Inui's mouth before he found himself being tackled to the blanket and kissed, very, very thoroughly.
Later, as Inui lay in bed both very satisfied and very much still lacking in Echizen's data, he mused that it wasn't only apple pie that had resulted in sticky pants and fingers that night.
~ π ~
The next few days continued in a similar pattern. Inui was very satisfied in some ways and extremely lacking in others, and the exponential plots in either direction were driving him up the wall with their inability to meet in the middle. So much so that even teaming up with Kaidoh to work on their doubles techniques, which would normally have sent him into a state of measurement bliss, had had almost the opposite effect, and Oishi and Momoshiro were unfortunately taking the brunt of it.
Oishi strained, barely returning the third, full-strength serve that Inui had sent his way. The ball hit the net and rolled dejectedly off the court, echoing Inui's mood.
"You seem a little tense, senpai," Kaidoh said.
"Something wrong, Inui?" Oishi called.
"Yeah, Inui-senpai," said Momoshiro. "I'd like to finish practice without an injury, if it's all the same to you."
Inui cast a quick glance over to Court B, where Fuji and Kikumaru were playing doubles against Tezuka and Echizen. The so-called Dream Pair were particularly enthused; any time their combination resulted in a point it seemed to be a cause for celebration, and Kikumaru had spent a total of three minutes and twenty-one seconds in close physical contact with Fuji so far.
Inui gritted his teeth and sent another blistering serve down the court, eliciting a satisfying squawk from Momoshiro ("That hurt! You don't care, Inui-senpai, you don't care at all!"). It wasn't like he had a claim over Fuji, he reasoned. It wasn't as though they were dating.
It really wasn't, Inui thought as he buttoned his uniform shirt in the clubhouse afterwards. Fuji was helping him gather data and taking some photos for his own purposes, and that was all. Just because their four stalki... data-gathering missions had resulted in some extraneous physical contact didn't actually mean anything.
Neither did the fact that Fuji had left him three more origami notes since that first one (the crane in his Pumas had been particularly cute), or that he'd created a new directory for each of his image posts (/superdataman007 had been his favorite, although /stickyapplepie was a close second). Because if Fuji actually liked him, he would have talked about something other than vector calculations for a new counter move, or something other than exactly what data Inui had gathered in Atobe's bathroom that time, when they were IMing on the weekend.
"Inui," Fuji said, appearing out of nowhere and making Inui jump. Again. "Good work with Tezuka and Echizen."
Inui turned, his forehead crinkling. "I'm sorry? What are you talking about?"
"The data on Atobe and Echizen. You sent it on to Tezuka, right?" Fuji leaned against Inui's locker "Well, whatever you did it must have worked, because Tezuka and Echizen seem to be over whatever little spat they were having."
That helped a little, but Inui still felt like he was missing something. "Spat?"
"Mm. I'm not sure on the details, but I think Tezuka was too focused on his game for Ryoma-kun's liking. Not that Echizen can talk, but I'm fairly certain he accepted those dates with Atobe to make Tezuka jealous." Fuji looked at him. "I thought you knew all of this," he said mildly.
Inui's mind started whirring at approximately a million kilometers an hour. Those were dates? "Those were dates?" he said out loud.
"Well, yes, of course they were. Did you think they were playing in the off-season to work on their tennis moves?"
"Well. They didn't seem very date-like to me."
"Oh, Inui," Fuji said patiently. "Think about it. Echizen is obsessed with tennis. Atobe is obsessed with tennis, among other things. They're going to do something they have in common and both enjoy, right?" Fuji stepped a little closer and smiled what seemed to Inui to be a very genuine smile. "For instance, what would you ask me to do if we went on a date?"
And just like that, a hundred pixelated puzzle pieces snapped into place and Inui finally saw the forest for the trees.
"Fuji." Inui lowered his glasses, blinking down at Fuji standing in a shaft of afternoon sunlight. "Are you free tomorrow night?"
~ π ~
It was a crisp, cloudless evening in late spring, just perfect for star-gazing. Especially when one had an uninterrupted view of the Milky Way from the roof of the Atobe mansion.
"I would ask you how you managed this," Fuji said against Inui's mouth, before lying back on the fine jarrah boards of the rooftop patio, "but sometimes it's more fun just not to know."
Inui grinned. "I have some very useful connections, you know." He stretched out alongside Fuji and kissed him again, licking Fuji's tongue and lips in a manner that was thirty-two percent less messy than the first time he'd taken the lead with this.
"Oh, I know it, and they're most impressive."
Inui smiled even wider, brushing Fuji's hair away and dropping his head down into the crook of Fuji's shoulder, dragging his teeth experimentally along his jawline. He felt very smug about the shiver he could feel running through Fuji's body as a result. "Now that we're here, you should read the stars and tell me my future."
Fuji laughed quietly. "Well that's interesting," he began, wrapping one arm around Inui's neck and using the other to pull Inui's hips down over his own, before lacing their fingers together. "Gemini seems to be very successful at getting what they want right now. You should definitely ask out that person you like."
"Oh should I?" Inui grinned stupidly, but he was too busy rocking his hips down into Fuji's to care. "Anything else I should know?"
Fuji's breath caught and he tilted his head back, then unlaced their fingers and slid his hand just under the hem of Inui's shirt. "Well, I don't know about the stars, but I'm - oh - I'm very curious about what you intend to tell Echizen Nanjiroh-san regarding his son's dating habits."
"Oh, that," Inui smirked, stilling their hips for a moment. "I'm an honorable person, as you know, Fuji, and I followed Echizen-san's request to the letter." Inui slid his own hand up under Fuji's t-shirt, the skin of his hip and stomach smooth and addictive under his fingers. "'Echizen-kun's date has purple hair, great legs and is very athletic. High maintenance, though, and I don't predict a second date will be made.'"
Fuji managed to laugh and arch his hips up impatiently at the same time, somehow multiplying Inui's satisfaction by a factor of five, minimum, although it was becoming harder and harder to tell. He sucked a little on the shell of Fuji's ear, trying to keep up his mental list of Fuji's reactions to each bit of stimuli but he was rapidly losing his concentration, until he remembered that there was one more essential piece of data still missing from his research.
"There's something I'm still curious about too, now that you mention it. Well, there are always things I'm curious about, of course, but one thing in particular."
"Oh?"
Inui propped himself back up, unsure of exactly how to phrase this, but in the end he figured that the direct approach was best.
"Fuji. What are you intending to do with the hatchet and chainsaw you took photographs of?"
"Oh, those." Fuji grinned a very wicked grin. "You know, I was thinking of taking up ice sculpture."
Recipient's name: kish_t_rethya
Rating: PG-13
Pairing(s): Inui/Fuji, with hints of Atobe/Ryoma, Tezuka/Ryoma and Fuji/Eiji
Disclaimer: please use the standard disclaimer!
Warnings: Bad puns and gratuitous sexual innuendo.
Author's Notes: I love your fic Kish, as many of us do, so I really hope you enjoy this ♥. Thank you to my betas for everything - any mistakes left are my own. While it isn't essential, knowledge of Kish's fic Manipulation will mean you get a couple of jokes. Also, Inui stalking Atobe for data is Rajipuri canon.
To Inui, dates were inherently useful things, and so it was downright confusing when a certain type of date seemed to defy all of his previous experiences with the concept.
Dates were essential to his data collection in many different senses of the word. They had enabled him to measure the Seigaku team's progress over time. They had enabled him to develop the training menus that had contributed to Seigaku's win over Rikkai Dai at Nationals.
And now that he'd toned down said menus to a level that didn't leave people wondering whether the team slept at night, they had enabled him to begin updating his data on the more promising first and second years in Seigaku's tennis club.
He had, however, run into an unexpected snag, and while there was an eighty-seven percent chance that Fuji could help him solve this problem, the odds on whether Fuji would choose to do so were another matter entirely. Still, the only way to find out was to ask, and that was why Inui found himself outside of the darkroom in classroom 11 one lunch time, waiting for an answer to his knock.
"Okay, you can come in now Inui." A lock clicked open and Kikumaru peered into classroom 11 with a grin, beckoning. "Have to go, Fujiko," he continued, hefting his backpack and bounding towards the main classroom door. "Momo owes me lunch and I've decided that today's the day. Bye bye!"
The familiar, yet unidentifiable smell of chemicals assaulted Inui's nostrils as he stepped into the makeshift darkroom, where print after black-and-white print glowed almost eerily down at him in the dim red light.
"Ah, Fuji," Inui greeted, blinking in the darkness.
"Hello, Inui." Fuji turned, smiling, from where he was pegging the photos to a line hanging over the bench. He leaned around Inui to flick the regular light switch on.
Inui blinked again, trying to readjust to the brighter light so he could study the photographs more closely. Slightly blurry images of a large stuffed bear, a dumpster, and Momoshiro swatting Echizen over a burger in McDonalds contrasted sharply with pristine shots of what looked like cactus spines, an array of tools on a bench, and a neat row of paper cranes laid out on a window sill.
"Some interesting perspectives there, Fuji." Inui automatically opened his notebook. "The hatchet and chainsaw contrast nicely with the origami."
"Thank you," Fuji beamed over his shoulder. "I really like how they've turned out. Well, except for this one." Inui watched as Fuji hung up a final photograph of Saint Rudolph's Mizuki, who was attempting to remove something dark and sticky-looking from his shirt. "While I'm personally very satisfied with it, I'm not sure it meets the requirements for my assignment."
"Heh." Inui grinned. "What are the requirements?"
"A candid action shot."
"Hmmm." The odds of Fuji agreeing to help him had definitely just slanted in his favor.
Fuji turned, leaning back against the bench and peering up. "So, Inui. Was there something you wanted, or did you just drop by to admire my stalking abilities?"
"Funny you should mention that." Inui tilted his head, catching the fluorescent light on his glasses just so. "I think we might be able to help each other out."
"Oh?"
~ π ~
"I had no idea that you'd added breaking and entering to your data collection repertoire, Inui," Fuji said merrily. "Should I put extra locks on my windows?"
Inui didn't bother looking down. "Echizen Nanjiroh-san knows we're here, Fuji. You don't think this ladder just appeared out of nowhere, do you?" He pushed at the window in front of him, which was open just as Echizen-san had said it would be, and crawled into the attic of the shed behind the Echizen's tennis court. Fuji wasn't far behind him.
"I assume that knocking at the front door wasn't as much fun as this idea, then," Fuji continued.
"And not have an easy escape route if we're caught? I'm sure you know that I've considered every angle, Fuji." Inui crawled over the dusty floorboards to the far window, setting his backpack and juice flask down and beginning to pull out equipment. "Besides, the Echizens are out this evening, so there would be no one to answer our knock, and if my data on your extracurricular interests is correct then you like the idea of sneaking round like this just as much as I do."
Fuji grinned twenty-eight percent wider than usual, but said nothing. He settled down on the other side of the window and unpacked his tripod and digital camera, testing the line of sight and fiddling with the focus. "What kind of data on Echizen did you have to offer Echizen-san in trade for this?" he asked shrewdly, peering through the viewfinder. Inui chuckled.
"I'm to report back immediately on any dates that Echizen either makes or accepts with any girls. Names, dates, places, physical contact; the usual data."
"Ah, I see. So cruel, Inui."
"It's for the greater good, Fuji." Inui shifted back from the window a little as the creak of a gate signaled an arrival. Three seconds later, two figures sauntered into view by the court. Inui opened notebooks labeled "Echizen Ryoma" and "Hyoutei Gakuen: Atobe Keigo" to fresh pages, and tapped at the paper with his pen. "I want to leave Echizen the most comprehensive training menu possible when we graduate. It's in Seigaku's best interest that I leave no stone unturned."
"Mm. So honorable, too," Fuji smiled, adjusting his focus again and taking a test shot. "I see that Kabaji-kun hasn't made it."
"Yes, interesting," Inui replied, already taking notes. "My data indicates that he accompanies Atobe approximately seventy-six percent of the time, so this is definitely unusual."
"Even when he showers?"
Inui snapped his head around to look at Fuji, but his expression was nothing out of the ordinary. "How did you know I'd taken data in Atobe's bathroom?"
"I didn't." Fuji turned to look back at him, eyes wide and full of laughter, and Inui had the oddest sensation of his glasses being completely transparent for approximately 2.3 seconds. "Ii data, Inui."
Inui grit his teeth and let out a breath, wondering briefly if the payoff of these shots was going to be worth Fuji's teasing. Well. Okay, of course it was going to be, but still... the fact that Fuji seemed able to extract data out of him so effortlessly was more irritating than it should have been, especially since he had to work so hard for every piece of Fuji's.
Out on the court, the bouncing of a ball interrupted Inui's thoughts -- the bounce-pattern indicated that it was Echizen who was preparing to serve -- and he shook his head to clear it a little before shifting into a better position by the window. He quickly lost himself in recording data; the scratch of his pencil and the clicking of both his stopwatch and Fuji's camera shutter the only noise during the four minutes and thirty-four seconds it took for Echizen to win the first game.
Atobe had taken the second, as expected, in three minutes and fifty-nine seconds before Fuji broke the relative silence.
"I'd better get these motion shots for you before the sun gets any lower." He reached into the bag beside him.
Inui felt a little confused. "Haven't you been taking them already?"
"Only the regular kind." He sat up a little and began screwing a different lens onto the front of his camera; a lens that Inui estimated to be approximately 17.2 centimeters long and about five hundred grams in weight. "I thought you wanted me to get up close and personal, Inui."
Inui blinked, watching as Fuji's fingers expertly twisted the lens in and out to test the focus. Two could play at that game.
"Of course. The closer, the better." He grabbed his juice bottle and took a sip. "Very impressive lens there, Fuji."
"Yumiko-neesan gave it to me on my last birthday." Fuji swiveled around on his knee and pointed the lens into Inui's face before clicking open the shutter, grinning. "She knows exactly what toys I like."
"So I see." Inui was very pleased with how even his voice sounded. "I assume that bigger is better then, in the camera world?"
"Mm, I suppose," Fuji replied, snapping the camera back onto the tripod, "although we both know that it's not about the size of one's equipment, right? Only the quality of one's shots."
This time Inui choked on his juice. Down on the court, Echizen swiveled around at the noise and missed an easy backhand, taking a ball to his temple instead.
"Shhh, Inui." Fuji didn't bother to keep the laughter out of his voice. "You want them to know we're up here?"
Inui coughed into his sleeve, pulling a handkerchief out of his backpack and swiping at his mouth. "You clearly want this mission to fail, Fuji. Echizen's data is of utmost importance, you know." Thankfully, Echizen had returned to playing his match.
"Yes, yes, I know." Fuji shifted closer and held the camera's LCD screen out, which showed the ball caught perfectly in mid-bounce off the side of Echizen's head. "How's that for data?"
Inui wanted to reply, he really did, but Fuji's breath was warm and unexpected against his ear, and it momentarily threw him off. It didn't help that Fuji's hip was digging into his own, either.
"I love digital cameras for this," Fuji continued, as if nothing at all was wrong. "Such immediate gratification. Even if the chemical reaction of light on film produces a much more organic shot."
"I like chemistry," Inui mumbled, stupidly.
Fuji's eyes glinted green in the dying sunlight as he stared straight through Inui's glasses. "And I like reactions."
Fuji held his gaze for a moment longer than would normally be considered appropriate, and Inui felt the sudden urge to bring the conversation back into safe territory. "That's one piece of data that I've always had on you, Fuji."
Fuji just smiled an unknowable smile and went back to his camera. Inui tried to go back to his own recording, but Fuji hadn't moved, and it was difficult to concentrate when every second movement of his arm had him knocking Fuji's bicep, or brushing his knuckles against Fuji's knee. Fuji didn't seem the least bit concerned, for his part, and happily attempted shots of the Cyclone Smash that took the match to 5-4.
This was awkward. Even though Inui was eighty-four percent certain that Fuji was doing this deliberately, it unsettled him anyway, and when Fuji's fingers brushed over the top of his thigh for the fourth time in three minutes, he did the only thing he could think of to cover his awkwardness.
"Actually, I've been researching photography recently and the chemical reactions for imprinting an image on film are fascinating. Did you know that the density of developed film is proportional to the logarithm of the total amount of light to which the film was exposed? It’s all very mathematical. The digital photography process is fascinating too, though--"
"Inui."
"--the camera records the image as binary data for easy storage and analysis, so digital photography has been used since the early 1980s by NASA to predict the movements of the stars and planets--"
"Inui."
Inui turned his head. "Hm--?" He'd planned to keep on going, but it was difficult to speak when another mouth was being pressed up against his own.
"-buh?" said Inui, when Fuji let him speak again.
"That's funny," Fuji replied, breath warm against Inui's mouth. "I thought people looked to the stars for predictions of their own movements."
Inui blinked, trying to process an answer in amongst the misfire of his synapses. "No- no such thing, Fuji. Only data can accurately predict movements-"
Fuji kissed him again, longer this time, slow, and with a barely-there swipe of tongue across his bottom lip that sent Inui's blood rushing. "I see," Fuji murmured, the light streak of pink across his nose at odds with the confidence of his voice and actions. "Did... did your data predict that movement?"
Inui paused for a moment, his breathing irregular, his glasses slipping down his nose as he met Fuji's eyes with his own. He knew he should move away, knew that Fuji was playing a game he didn't know the rules to, but clearly his brain was in need of a reboot because his body wasn't responding to any of its commands at all. Well, except to let him shake his head in response to Fuji's question.
Fuji obviously took that as a positive sign, though, because then his mouth was back, his lips softer than anything Inui could have predicted, his tongue licking until Inui's mouth fell open with an involuntary groan, until Inui's notebooks fell to the ground beside them and his pencil rolled away into the darkness. Not that it mattered anyway, because then Fuji's tongue was in his mouth, sliding against Inui's, erasing his mind and turning all of his limbs into some kind of improbable jelly.
Inui wasn't sure how long it went on for, or even if he was doing it right, but there was only a pink afterglow left of the sunset and a distinct lack of noise from the court below when Fuji's mobile phone beeped with a message from his sister, telling him it was time to come home.
~ π ~
It was a popular habit among the girls at Seigaku to leave origami notes for others, especially in shoe alcoves. Inui had only ever had one before, and that had actually been for Kaidoh.
And it certainly hadn't been from a boy.
But when Inui arrived at school the next morning, there it was, a lucky star decorated with multicolored "^_^"s sitting there next to his slippers. He carefully unfolded the star into one long strip of paper and read the note within:
Gemini: An unusual meeting yields some unexpected, yet very promising results. Interesting images will be revealed if you visit perfectapples.co.jp/topsecretdata. Help is available from someone who's aided you before; all you need to do is ask. Your evil twin has some explaining to do. ^_^
Inui thought for a moment. In fact, Inui had been up thinking until 2.39 am the night before, so technically he thought for a moment more. Not that it seemed to be doing him any good; if anything, he felt even more confused than he had after Fuji had walked home.
He couldn't imagine why Fuji had kissed him. Was he bored? Playing a game? Wondering what experimental juice number eighty-four (Super Tenaci-Tea) tasted like? If it had been the latter, however, Fuji could have just asked for sip, so that made it only eleven percent likely. This was Fuji he was considering, though. Fuji, who seemed to make a habit of doing the most unlikely things possible, and so his thoughts had continued around and around in a never-ending circle.
When his questions had resulted in even fewer answers, he'd got to work sorting out the evening's data instead. Entering statistics into his database, plotting his variables and devising the following week's data collection schedule always had a soothing effect, even if the memory of Fuji's tongue persisted stubbornly on the edge of his thoughts, causing him to make four errors and take twenty-three minutes longer than average.
Now, there was Fuji's note to add to the mess in his head. On one hand it seemed to be poking fun at the uncertainty of their situation, and on the other it hinted at answers he wasn't even sure he knew the questions to. Inui sighed and massaged his temples, then reached into his pocket for his phone:
Cute, Fuji. I'd ask you why you didn't just text me like a normal person, but I know better. :) Thanks for the url, I'll look at lunchtime.
He debated for exactly 5.5 seconds on whether to add one more sentence, before sending the message as it was. Fuji's reply vibrated in his pocket only a minute later:
And I'd tell you that normality is overrated, and nowhere near as much fun, either, but I know better too. ^_^. Let me know if you have problems accessing the photos.
Well. That was par for the course. Inui pushed up his glasses and walked into class, determined to think about it later.
~ π ~
Lunchtime in the library was a busy affair of late, the low hum of students studying in groups for their upcoming exams reaching into even the farthest corners of the stacks.
Inui sat with his laptop in the private carrel he had calculated to have the best access to the teacher's wireless network, looking at the photos Fuji had posted and saving them off onto his hard-drive. He noted with interest that Fuji had some excellent security in place for hotlinkers - he certainly wouldn't want a photo of that popping up in place of a stolen image.
Almost all of Fuji's photos were useful - close-ups and full-length shots of Echizen's Twist Serve, Drive B, Cyclone Smash and split-step - and they definitely added the extra dimension to his data that he'd been looking for, but as he cataloged them all in his database, it still felt like something was missing.
Inui knew he could never get complete data on Echizen - the Seigaku freshman's tendency to evolve during a match, and his ability to attain Muga no Kyouchi, only opened the door to even more possibilities - so his aim had always been just to get as much useful data as possible.
Still, something was nagging at the edge of his consciousness. He hadn't seen the end of the match with Atobe, so perhaps he should try to observe Echizen again? He knew that they were playing another match at the end of the week, at the street courts this time, so there would be no need to bargain with Echizen Nanjiroh-san for the use of his back shed.
...the back shed. Fuji. So many questions and not enough answers; nowhere, not even when he had a quick poke around in Fuji's root directory:
Error 404 - directory not found.
It's not even worth bothering, Inui. ^_^
Inui grinned. As expected of Fuji. He packed up his laptop and walked out into the quadrangle. Of course he'd need to ask Fuji to help him out with photography again, but he'd do that later; right now, he had a phone call to make.
He flipped open his phone and hit speed-dial one, the phone ringing the usual 1.8 times before being answered.
"Aa. Inui."
"Tezuka. I'm currently compiling some in-depth data on Echizen's tennis. I've sent you a progress report, which you should find in your inbox along with some photos of his twilight match against Atobe last night at Echizen's home-"
The usual 'click' of Tezuka hanging up on him sounded in Inui's ear.
~ π ~
"I should have predicted that Echizen would be late," Inui murmured. It was twenty-three minutes and eleven seconds past eight pm and Atobe and Echizen still hadn't arrived. "I could have incorporated it into my schedule."
"Maybe they found something more interesting to do with their time?" Fuji replied.
Inui and Fuji had set themselves up on Yumiko's picnic blanket in a well-sheltered spot among the trees near the changing block. Inui had brought his usual essential data collection equipment: a notebook, two pencils, a green gel pen (which wrote very nicely), a stop-watch, a pair of infrared binoculars that he'd procured from Somewhere, a Swiss Army Knife with seven more attachments than standard, and a compact flashlight. He was appropriately dressed for the occasion too, in a black cap and a pair of cargo pants that were now slightly too short in the leg, although he'd stopped short at face paint.
Fuji, however, was taking the whole mission far less seriously.
"Oh, I like your binoculars, Inui. How big would you say those were?"
Inui jumped. He'd been jumping all evening. He was glad that only Fuji could see how nervous he was, or his carefully cultivated reputation as a cold and calculating Data Master might possibly have been in danger.
"A decent size. I haven't measured them." He was hardly going to admit that he'd brought them along merely to show them off.
"Can I touch them?"
Inui managed to hand them over without even raising an eyebrow. The last few days had been relatively normal. Well, as far as normal went, for Inui. It had been easy to pretend that nothing had happened when there was tennis to practice and homework to do and Kaidoh to train up, but now that they were alone together, Inui felt like there was an elephant sitting between them.
Fuji, on the other hand, seemed to be completely untroubled by it.
"Dessert, Inui?"
"Sorry?" Inui replied.
"Would you like some dessert?" Fuji asked again, giving Inui's binoculars back to him and pulling various containers out of his backpack. Inui wondered if the ichinen felt the same way about accepting drinks from him as he felt about accepting any kind of food from Fuji.
Even dessert. Especially dessert.
"Yumiko made apple pie tonight, but Yuuta couldn't make it at the last minute so I thought I'd bring some leftovers."
"Oh." Inui felt a sense of relief at the mention of Yumiko's name. It still didn't mean that wasabi hadn't been involved post-baking, but the odds were much more favorable. "All right."
Fuji set a plate down on the blanket in front of him. "Ta-da!" he said, waving his hands with a flourish.
"Thank you, Fuji." Inui took a bite, chewing carefully for a moment. "...Oh, it's just apple pie," he exclaimed, without any thought process between words and mouth. "I mean, well, it's not just apple pie, of course, but-"
Fuji laughed a little at the relief in Inui's voice, and leaned forward - "Yes, Inui. It's just apple pie," - and then he kissed him. Inui was so surprised that he dropped his still-laden fork in his lap.
Fuji shook his head. "Tch, now you've got your pants all sticky."
"Yes. So it would seem." Inui hunted around for a napkin and, finding none, he scooped the pie up and into his mouth with his fingers instead.
Fuji waited until Inui had finished swallowing before grabbing Inui's wrist, pulling it up towards his mouth, and Inui watched very attentively as Fuji sucked on each of his fingers in turn, even the ones that hadn't been covered in pie, and every little bit of nervousness in his body dissolved into something else entirely.
"How about you let me apologize properly, then?" Fuji replied, eyes open and heavy and his voice not sounding at all apologetic, and the words to the affirmative were barely out of Inui's mouth before he found himself being tackled to the blanket and kissed, very, very thoroughly.
Later, as Inui lay in bed both very satisfied and very much still lacking in Echizen's data, he mused that it wasn't only apple pie that had resulted in sticky pants and fingers that night.
~ π ~
The next few days continued in a similar pattern. Inui was very satisfied in some ways and extremely lacking in others, and the exponential plots in either direction were driving him up the wall with their inability to meet in the middle. So much so that even teaming up with Kaidoh to work on their doubles techniques, which would normally have sent him into a state of measurement bliss, had had almost the opposite effect, and Oishi and Momoshiro were unfortunately taking the brunt of it.
Oishi strained, barely returning the third, full-strength serve that Inui had sent his way. The ball hit the net and rolled dejectedly off the court, echoing Inui's mood.
"You seem a little tense, senpai," Kaidoh said.
"Something wrong, Inui?" Oishi called.
"Yeah, Inui-senpai," said Momoshiro. "I'd like to finish practice without an injury, if it's all the same to you."
Inui cast a quick glance over to Court B, where Fuji and Kikumaru were playing doubles against Tezuka and Echizen. The so-called Dream Pair were particularly enthused; any time their combination resulted in a point it seemed to be a cause for celebration, and Kikumaru had spent a total of three minutes and twenty-one seconds in close physical contact with Fuji so far.
Inui gritted his teeth and sent another blistering serve down the court, eliciting a satisfying squawk from Momoshiro ("That hurt! You don't care, Inui-senpai, you don't care at all!"). It wasn't like he had a claim over Fuji, he reasoned. It wasn't as though they were dating.
It really wasn't, Inui thought as he buttoned his uniform shirt in the clubhouse afterwards. Fuji was helping him gather data and taking some photos for his own purposes, and that was all. Just because their four stalki... data-gathering missions had resulted in some extraneous physical contact didn't actually mean anything.
Neither did the fact that Fuji had left him three more origami notes since that first one (the crane in his Pumas had been particularly cute), or that he'd created a new directory for each of his image posts (/superdataman007 had been his favorite, although /stickyapplepie was a close second). Because if Fuji actually liked him, he would have talked about something other than vector calculations for a new counter move, or something other than exactly what data Inui had gathered in Atobe's bathroom that time, when they were IMing on the weekend.
"Inui," Fuji said, appearing out of nowhere and making Inui jump. Again. "Good work with Tezuka and Echizen."
Inui turned, his forehead crinkling. "I'm sorry? What are you talking about?"
"The data on Atobe and Echizen. You sent it on to Tezuka, right?" Fuji leaned against Inui's locker "Well, whatever you did it must have worked, because Tezuka and Echizen seem to be over whatever little spat they were having."
That helped a little, but Inui still felt like he was missing something. "Spat?"
"Mm. I'm not sure on the details, but I think Tezuka was too focused on his game for Ryoma-kun's liking. Not that Echizen can talk, but I'm fairly certain he accepted those dates with Atobe to make Tezuka jealous." Fuji looked at him. "I thought you knew all of this," he said mildly.
Inui's mind started whirring at approximately a million kilometers an hour. Those were dates? "Those were dates?" he said out loud.
"Well, yes, of course they were. Did you think they were playing in the off-season to work on their tennis moves?"
"Well. They didn't seem very date-like to me."
"Oh, Inui," Fuji said patiently. "Think about it. Echizen is obsessed with tennis. Atobe is obsessed with tennis, among other things. They're going to do something they have in common and both enjoy, right?" Fuji stepped a little closer and smiled what seemed to Inui to be a very genuine smile. "For instance, what would you ask me to do if we went on a date?"
And just like that, a hundred pixelated puzzle pieces snapped into place and Inui finally saw the forest for the trees.
"Fuji." Inui lowered his glasses, blinking down at Fuji standing in a shaft of afternoon sunlight. "Are you free tomorrow night?"
~ π ~
It was a crisp, cloudless evening in late spring, just perfect for star-gazing. Especially when one had an uninterrupted view of the Milky Way from the roof of the Atobe mansion.
"I would ask you how you managed this," Fuji said against Inui's mouth, before lying back on the fine jarrah boards of the rooftop patio, "but sometimes it's more fun just not to know."
Inui grinned. "I have some very useful connections, you know." He stretched out alongside Fuji and kissed him again, licking Fuji's tongue and lips in a manner that was thirty-two percent less messy than the first time he'd taken the lead with this.
"Oh, I know it, and they're most impressive."
Inui smiled even wider, brushing Fuji's hair away and dropping his head down into the crook of Fuji's shoulder, dragging his teeth experimentally along his jawline. He felt very smug about the shiver he could feel running through Fuji's body as a result. "Now that we're here, you should read the stars and tell me my future."
Fuji laughed quietly. "Well that's interesting," he began, wrapping one arm around Inui's neck and using the other to pull Inui's hips down over his own, before lacing their fingers together. "Gemini seems to be very successful at getting what they want right now. You should definitely ask out that person you like."
"Oh should I?" Inui grinned stupidly, but he was too busy rocking his hips down into Fuji's to care. "Anything else I should know?"
Fuji's breath caught and he tilted his head back, then unlaced their fingers and slid his hand just under the hem of Inui's shirt. "Well, I don't know about the stars, but I'm - oh - I'm very curious about what you intend to tell Echizen Nanjiroh-san regarding his son's dating habits."
"Oh, that," Inui smirked, stilling their hips for a moment. "I'm an honorable person, as you know, Fuji, and I followed Echizen-san's request to the letter." Inui slid his own hand up under Fuji's t-shirt, the skin of his hip and stomach smooth and addictive under his fingers. "'Echizen-kun's date has purple hair, great legs and is very athletic. High maintenance, though, and I don't predict a second date will be made.'"
Fuji managed to laugh and arch his hips up impatiently at the same time, somehow multiplying Inui's satisfaction by a factor of five, minimum, although it was becoming harder and harder to tell. He sucked a little on the shell of Fuji's ear, trying to keep up his mental list of Fuji's reactions to each bit of stimuli but he was rapidly losing his concentration, until he remembered that there was one more essential piece of data still missing from his research.
"There's something I'm still curious about too, now that you mention it. Well, there are always things I'm curious about, of course, but one thing in particular."
"Oh?"
Inui propped himself back up, unsure of exactly how to phrase this, but in the end he figured that the direct approach was best.
"Fuji. What are you intending to do with the hatchet and chainsaw you took photographs of?"
"Oh, those." Fuji grinned a very wicked grin. "You know, I was thinking of taking up ice sculpture."