Rating: Going to go for a tentative R here
Genre: hmm General, Dramaish? Bit of Angst… like that’s a surprise
Pairing: FujixOshitarixFuji (somehow that’s so much easier to do for GW)
Chapter: One Shot!!! If the plot bunnies decide to die.
Summary: When you’re fighting for control, how can you be sure that you’re winning?
Warnings: Well, this is sharona1x2 ‘s fault …blame her… lemon…for starters. Yaoi… most definitely, spoiler for the main part of episode 111… and did I mention I’m insane?
Fuji almost laughed when he pulled the straw that gave him his Hyotei opponent. How… appropriate. His eyes rose to meet those of his rival, fellow prodigy, frequent lover, whatever you wanted to call him, and smiled… the smile of challenge.
This was going to be way too much fun.
He stood on the courts, preparing his racket, when Momoshiro offered him some…advice.
“Hyotei’s Oshitari-san…He’s a passionate guy,” the junior said.
And it was all Fuji could do to keep from answering: I know. He turned to look over at where the Hyotei regular stood. Purple eyes answered his own, the same challenge that always existed between them evident in that gleam.
Fuji smiled. Funnily enough, for all the games they played, and the distractions they thought up for themselves…they’d always managed to avoid playing a game of tennis.
They stood across from each other, only the net separating them, and Fuji could glimpse that predatory look in Oshitari’s eyes. It was a look that usually set Fuji’s blood on fire, and right then was no exception. Instead of answering it and the images it conjured, Fuji let his smile fade slightly, and refused to reveal his eyes. “Good luck.” He used the tone they both knew well. He knew it would spark a flame in Oshitari’s eyes…and he knew he wouldn’t be disappointed.
In a way Fuji was thankful that Oshitari hadn’t spoken a word yet. That voice had ways of affecting him, which the Seigaku prodigy wasn’t quite sure would be good for his tennis play. Of course, he could also be wrong… maybe it would make him play better.
He watched Oshitari speaking to Gakuto, and concentrated on his strings. Always better to not appear to be listening to a conversation that you weren’t supposed to be hearing. Still, Fuji wasn’t overly fond of the red head, and he knew the feeling was mutual. The voices were low, but if Fuji concentrated… he could hear… well enough.
The red head’s grating voice almost made Fuji give up. “Yuushi, you’re playing against Fuji. Don’t be careless.”
There was a slight pause as Oshitari answered, that smooth deep voice sending ripples up and down Fuji’s spine. “I know”
“You remember Jirou’s match, don’t you? He has the Hakugei.” That comment didn’t bother Fuji in the slightest… he wasn’t just his triple counters, just like people weren’t data.
There was confidence in the answer the Hyotei prodigy gave, and Fuji paused to take it in fully. “Leave it to me, Gakuto. As long as I play normally, I’ll win. Also, wind is needed to use the Hakugei. A pity that there is no wind today.”
Ahhh, yes… such a pity. Fuji fought against a smile. He wondered mildly just how Oshitari could be so confident. Did he really think he knew Fuji that well? Did he really think that because they had partaken of each other’s bodies it meant that Yuushi had a hold over Fuji?
Gakuto’s answer was almost reverent, and Fuji had to choke back a barked laugh as the redhead spoke. “That’s just like you, Yuushi. You see through everything.”
Oshitari’s eyes focused on Fuji as if he heard the suppressed laughter, and yet the Seigaku senior just ignored him. So Yuushi thought he knew Fuji, did he? Fuji smiled before turning around to face his opponent. Had Oshitari seen that smile he would have paled, because it was a warning and a threat rolled into one… and even if he knew nothing else about Fuji Syusuke…he knew the warning signs.
The match began.
Oshitari’s serve was made with a confidence Fuji found amusing. The same confidence was evident when the dark haired boy thought he was actually in charge of any given situation. Each hit of the ball elicited a grunt from one of them…
A rhythm developed… an all too familiar rhythm, and Fuji’s thoughts wavered, not entirely on the game. He couldn’t help it, and he didn’t really want to.
Pushed up against a wall, legs wrapped around Yuushi’s waist, Fuji couldn’t help but moan at the invasion. He buried his head in the crook of Oshitari’s neck, biting down as the rhythm picked up. A gasp emerged from his taller lover as he slammed in and out of Fuji.
Cerulean eyes gleamed; sweat running down his face, as Fuji let himself writhe with satisfaction at having gotten exactly what he wanted when and where he wanted it. A blinding burst of pleasure made his body shudder, and he threw his head back, abandoning his work on the taller boy’s neck.
They heaved in unison, a coupling that was fast and hard and bittersweet. The aftermath left them panting, Fuji clinging less to Yuushi than the other did to the wall, holding them both upright.
The sweat and semen began to cool. Their eyes finally met… and Fuji smiled his smile.
The ball dropped over the net. He’d broken Oshitari’s serve and yet somehow, couldn’t bring himself to be pleased. There was a look in those deep eyes, an almost mocking expression. It was that edge of superiority that had first attracted Fuji to the other boy…with the aim to take him down a few pegs. No one deserved to be that blatantly arrogant.
Oshitari’s next words made Fuji open his eyes. “Is this it for Seigaku’s prodigy?”
Some emotion he couldn’t acknowledge ran through Fuji, almost making him take the match seriously. It wasn’t until Oshitari managed to fake him out with a pretended back step on his back swing that Fuji actually got slightly annoyed.
“Too bad,” fell from the other prodigy’s lips, and Fuji glared at him… but Oshitari wasn’t finished yet. “Did you think you spotted one of my habits? I can see through you.”
That the other boy read his move was unthinkable. Throughout their entire relationship he had never let Oshitari have an upper hand that Fuji himself wasn’t in complete control of. It irked him, annoyed him, made him want to get his own back… and he had to admit that it also made him lose a little concentration.
Fuji served, aiming for a serve and volley, realising too late, that it was just what Oshitari wanted.
“No big deal,” he heard the taller boy mutter, that snide smile even obvious in his tone.
Fuji looked up, eyes slightly shocked, realising that Oshitari was using one of Fuji’s own moves against him. Yet another notch to the pissed off scale. Had everything been a plan for Oshitari to get close enough to Fuji that he might know how to read him when they finally faced each other? But Fuji dismissed that thought, Oshitari didn’t deserve that much credit… at least, not yet.
It didn’t take much longer for Fuji to decide that he didn’t like playing against that style of tennis. It felt far too much like playing himself… and Fuji never allowed himself to be played.
The bed groaned when Fuji finally pinned Oshitari’s arms above his head. Rubbing his own toned body along the length of the purple-eyed boy’s, Fuji grinned and leaned down to nip at Oshitari’s neck.
Yuushi moaned beneath him, hips bucking slightly as Fuji attacked one of his sensitive spots. A low chuckle emerged from Fuji’s throat, the question lingering in the air like chocolate on the verge of becoming a liquid treat. “Give?” His breath tickled, making the form beneath him writhe that little bit more.
Sullen eyes tinged with lust, no longer partially concealed by spectacles, looked up at Fuji rebelliously, until the neck was nipped just once more in a strategic place. A moan rushed out from Oshitari’s lips, the answer practically dragged from him. “I give…”
Fuji smiled, letting the electricity that sparked when he rubbed himself against the boy beneath him carry him. It was a wave of sensations in which you could drown if you let yourself. But Fuji rarely let himself drown… that would mean a loss of control, something that Fuji never afforded himself. It was too risky.
But he would ride the wave, watching the myriad of emotions cover his lover’s face while he sheathed himself in a ocean of warmth that threatened to engulf him If he let his guard down too far. It was dangerous for him, offering him so much that most people would long for, in exchange for everything that he’d striven to become.
He loved the thrill.
His attention turned to the form beneath him. Sweat ran in rivulets down their bodies, mingling with another, becoming one… making the friction between them just that much sweeter. One of Oshitari’s now released hands fisted in the blanket, the other raked trails down Fuji’s back, causing him to moan involuntarily. Ttheir rhythm increased.
When he came, it was a sweet relief, emptying himself into the boy beneath him... an escape in many ways, and yet sometimes it felt like imprisonment. Fuji would wait, just long enough for Oshitari to finish… as always, before slipping out. He wasn’t the clingy type… he couldn’t afford to be. And so he watched the other boy quake in the throes, through lidded eyes, always maintaining that grip… just this side of losing it.
Had he lost it? Had he seriously underestimated Oshitari? 5:4 in his lover’s favour. No… he wouldn’t let it end like that… there was more to Fuji Syusuke than that… so very much more. He hadn’t expected him to be that good. Did that mean Fuji was actually going to have to put in an effort? Actually going to have to…work at something.
He smiled slightly, eyes open, focused on the opposite end of the court. It was proving to be more trying than he’d originally thought…it seemed Yuushi was more than Fuji originally anticipated. Maybe that was a good thing…
And finally Fuji decided to use the Higuma Otoshi. Whatever he had been expecting after he finished the move, winning the point… Oshitari’s question was not one of them.
“So, you’re finally in the mood?” Oshitari spoke in that irritating tone that Fuji hated so much. Fuji turned, cerulean eyes locking with those purple orbs… only to wish he could knock that smirk off his lover’s face with the next words the other boy spoke. “You started your engine too late.”
Fuji didn’t break the gaze. “I didn’t expect you to be this good.” And there was that undertone, that Fuji knew Oshitari would hear. The implication that Fuji hadn’t thought he was worthy of any more effort than he usually exerted for games… and he knew Yuushi wouldn’t like that inference.
“You just noticed?” There was indignation in that tone, that no one but Fuji would have recognised, and the Seigaku prodigy almost smiled at the fact that his bait had been taken. Still, he listened to Oshitari’s next words, just in case. “Now I’m ready to show you my Higuma Otoshi.”
Fuji wanted to laugh, but settled for shocked silence. He wanted to chuckle and comment that he’d already seen all of Oshitari that he needed to, but that wouldn’t be very subtle at all. So, he settled on subtle... it being just more his style.
And so it continued. The others gathered around the court referred to it as: The battle of the Higuma Otoshis!
Oshitari spoke, and Fuji wondered just when the other boy had become such a talker.
“How long do you plan to continue this? With your skinny arms, you won’t win against me.” There was so much confidence in Oshitari’s voice that Fuji sorely wanted to remind him how many times he’d been pinned down by Fuji… but again…The Seigaku prodigy was more refined than that. He’d retaliate in his own way.
And after yet another failed slam, Fuji realised that unless he did pull out all stops and play seriously using his full strength, that he would in fact lose. That was something Yuushi would never let him live down, and so that became something Fuji had to prevent at all costs.
Another snide comment, full of Yuushi’s own self importance bristled at Fuji. “Don’t waste your time. Now matter how you smash, you won’t make it.”
And Fuji wondered just how happy Oshitari would be if he knew he’d given Fuji an idea. Just how he smashed it, heh? Well… they’d see. Rare determination seeped into Fuji’s game… the determination to put his lover in his place… for once and for all.
Tongues clashed in their never-ending fight for dominance. Fuji smiled slightly as he pulled back just that little bit. It was always safer to pretend not to be in control… that way you never lost sight of the situation. Hands roamed his body, skilled, calloused fingers sending shivers down Syusuke’s spine. Just because he maintained a tenuous grip on control, didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy himself.
Buttons flew off his shirt, as impatience got the better of Oshitari, and a low rumbling chuckle started deep in Fuji’s chest, only to be cut off by a kiss. Pants were undone and pushed down roughly, and Fuji felt himself lifted, carried somewhere, the now button free shirt flapping around him with the movement.
His back hit the softness of cool sheets, and Oshitari continued his ministrations. Cerulean eyes closed, and a soft smile spread over Fuji’s face as he followed the pattern the tongue traced on his chest. One nipple was engulfed, which caused Fuji to arch into Yuushi’s waiting hand.
So bent to his task was the Hyotei prodigy that he failed to notice the look of triumph on his lover’s face.
Preparation was a necessary evil in Fuji’s eyes. When he wanted something he wanted it right then, and hated having to wait. But logic dictated that it was healthier that way… and so he complied.
But nothing compared to the feeling of being filled… of being able to squeeze his own muscles and wrench gasped expletives from his usually composed lover. The sensations made Fuji’s vision dance, and the sheets rubbed against his flesh, getting warmer by the minute. Being held and letting himself be held… pushing him so close to that edge he refused to fall off.
Maybe that meant he never fully experienced all that he could, but that didn’t matter. In all honesty, he just wanted what he wanted. And that was all there was to it.
And when it was over, Fuji squirmed out from under the other boy, the sweet scent of sweat and semen in danger of giving him claustrophobia. He never remained in that embrace, and they never fell asleep in each other’s arms. That was too romantic for someone like Fuji, it spoke of an actual commitment he wasn’t sure if he wanted to admit to having.
He wasn’t sure how Oshitari felt about it. All he was sure of, was that this was the way that Fuji could have and still maintain who he was. Still maintain control.
Control… heh? Fuji smiled. Hefting his grip of the racket up a little higher, he slammed.
The look on Oshitari’s face, when he realised that his Higuma Otoshi would go out… was priceless. Fuji couldn’t help the look of smug self-satisfaction that crossed over his own face. He knew how the other boy would react…knew that Yuushi could be just as stubborn, and had in some way… been counting on that.
If Oshitari thought he was going to use things he thought he learned about Fuji… then the Seigaku prodigy had no compunction in doing exactly the same.
The call came. “Game, Fuji. 6 to 5”
Fuji prepared to serve, thoughts running through his mind. He smiled, not a nice smile by any stretch of the imagination, laughed softly… and served. He could see the frustration in Oshitari’s eyes, in his stance, in the way he began to move. Higuma Otoshi should have been unbeatable… but that was the price you pay for forcing a person into a battle… who knew the move, if not better, then at least as well.
And Fuji was planning on making him pay for far more than that.
Again and again, Fuji smashed, with a strength that he hadn’t had before… a strength born of training, skill… and sheer determination.
He slammed into Oshitari, panting with the exertion. One of the taller boys legs hooked over his shoulder, the other wrapped around his waist. Fuji’s weight was held up by his hands, which pinned Oshitari’s own to the mattress.
Sweat dripped from his hair, the strands mingling with deep blue ones on Yuushi’s face. Syusuke nipped at the lips beneath him, before covering that mouth with his own in a kiss so deep, he felt he could devour Oshitari’s soul. Maybe he could… maybe, if he made the other a part of himself…he wouldn’t feel that need for him he felt of late.
Hips snapped back and forth, skin met skin with that soft thick thud that only skin can sound like. Fuji aimed with precision, drawing keening moans from his lover’s throat while pounding him into the bed, as if he was aiming for through it. Maybe if he put enough of himself into the task, he could send them both to oblivion and not have to worry about the thoughts running around in his mind… pushing at him… tempting him to just let go and allow himself to feel everything.
Even when he came, and that white blinding gorge threatened to engulf him… sheer determination still held him steady. Fuji refused to let anything escape his grasp.
And he’d be damned if he’d let anything escape it now. Another slam, another point, and he refused to look, to see that stubborn confusion on his lover’s face… because wasn’t that what he’d wanted all along? To take the other boy down a notch or two?
Fuji’s arm shook with the force of the shots he was making, but he didn’t let it show. He grinned and continued, analysing, seeking, finding… destroying. Finding the target’s weak spots and exploiting them in the way that only Fuji knew how. He refused to feel guilty for doing so… just plain refused.
So why did it hurt him when he accidentally glanced at Oshitari’s face? Fuji shook his head, and continued, lining himself up to serve.
With every ounce of resolve he had left, with every emotion he didn’t want that was running through his body, Fuji lined up his last slam and poured everything into it. He vaguely heard Oshitari mutter “I won’t give up yet…”
Even before the impact of the ball, Fuji knew it was futile, there was no way the Hyotei prodigy would be able to return that shot unless he’d found out a way to modify the Higuma Otoshi.
“Syusuke…” his named moaned from between his lovers lips, as Yuushi’s seed spilled between them…purple eyes fixed on him, full of lust… and something else…
The ball dropped through the racket, strings ruined, leaving stunned silence around the court, and a look of pure disbelief on Oshitari’s face. Fuji felt the need to turn away… to not see that brief glimpse of pain reflected on the other boy’s face, but like a moth to a flame, it drew him.
The cold hard tiles in the shower rubbed against his back as he clenched his thighs tighter around Oshitari. The dark haired teen’s face buried against Fuji’s chest as the strength in those arms managed to raise the Seigaku prodigy higher and higher, making the intrusion inside so much deeper when he was lowered down. Delicate hands wound themselves in wet strands of dark blue hair…and Fuji frantically pushed away the thought that where one of them ended, the other began.
“Game to Fuji. 7 to 5.”
And yet the smiling boy couldn’t figure out why he didn’t feel great, why he didn’t feel victorious.
Gentle arms encircled him, tracing soft lines through his shirt. The voice that spoke was soft and warm… care evident, even if you tried to ignore it. “Siblings fight, Fuji. It’s the way things are…”
Fuji’s eyes reflected a sadness that not many people saw, before he smiled back, closing himself off after having shown that moment of weakness. But calloused fingers on his lips stopped his off hand reply, and purple eyes focused intently on his face… If Fuji had wanted to let go, he could have been swallowed up.
The fingers were slowly followed by a pair of lips, capturing his own, in a rare display of true affection. It was those times, it would have been easier for Fuji to sink through the floor than to continue with his obstinate struggle to maintain his focus.
He was lowered to the bed, one of those handfuls of times that it wasn’t about sex, dominance or competition… but one of those rare times…they actually let the other glimpse who it was they were. Just for a short while…
Fuji looked up, smile fixed to his face and approached the net. Oshitari spoke before turning around. “As expected from you.” And he turned to face Fuji, eyes open… this time hiding nothing. “I completely lost.”
Fuji was taken aback by the words. It was almost as if… almost as if they were an apology for using the information that had been gathered in their times together. Almost as if he was asking if he had lost what they had, because what he had used had been revealed. The Seigaku prodigy recovered fast, and he hoped his response was enough. “Na, if your strings didn’t break, we couldn’t have said that.”
There was only slight recognition in those purple depths. He’d heard what Fuji meant… that if Oshitari hadn’t done what he’d done, they’d never have gotten this part of who they were out in the open. One fact remained… they were both competitive as hell. Fuji almost held his breath, waiting to see what the other prodigy would say. He didn’t even want to contemplate the fact that he was pretty sure he needed to hear what would be said.
And suddenly, he was standing so close, grasping Fuji’s hand in what appeared to be a simple handshake, and yet felt like so much more. The words that tumbled from the taller boy’s lips set Fuji at ease. “It’s alright.” And that voice lowered just that tiny bit, making Fuji tingle. “I had fun.”
Fuji resisted the urge to laugh, and instead answered. “Yeah.” He watched his lover walk away to talk to team-mates, quite certain that nothing irreparable had happened.
They’d played each other, and Fuji had come out on top, at least he was fairly certain he had. He shook his head ruefully at his own snapped strings… and wondered… just idly… if he’d ever let himself admit that control was purely subjective.
Well.. there you go... comments? questions? rotten tomatoes?
I'm still not sure about it since it's a little... different from what I usually write, but I've been doing that a lot lately... lol and for want of a better title it's got lumped with prodigies... but hey yeah well...
feedback muchly appreciated if you're so inclined.