Closer to You

Midorino Mizu

Disclaimer: Tennis no Ohjisama and all associated characters are the property of Konomi Takeshi.

Author’s Note: Yukimura is my angst muse. I’ve decided that. He angsts almost as much as he breathes.

Yukimura Seiichi had a headache.

It was partially due to the paperwork spread before him on the table, and it was partially due to the boy sitting across from him.

Unlike him, Sanada Genichirou seemed to be solely focused on deciding the match order for the upcoming tournament.

“Genichirou,” Yukimura murmured. The vice-captain looked up silently. “Could you pass me the match order form for the match versus Hyoutei?”

He was quite proud of himself, really. His voice didn’t even crack when he spoke of the Tokyo school.

“Certainly,” Sanada returned. He passed over the single sheet of paper and waited patiently while his captain perused it.

“Hmm,” said Yukimura thoughtfully. “I’m not sure this utilizes the team’s particular skills completely.”

Sanada lifted an eyebrow. “How so, Yukimura?”

He had managed the team for the majority of the tennis season, and he had decided match order himself.

Sanada was quite certain that the order he had chosen would allow them to defeat Hyoutei.

“Well,” started Yukimura finally, “I agree that Akaya should be placed in Singles 3. He’ll almost certainly be playing against Kabaji, and it will be an interesting challenge for him.” He paused for a moment, cocking his head to one side in thought. “Jackal might have been a better match for Kabaji, with his stamina, but that would involve placing Akaya in doubles, and that could be disastrous.”

Sanada nodded. Kirihara Akaya had not learned that doubles was an art form, and he usually ended up infuriating his partner just as much as his opponents.

The last time they’d tried him in doubles, during a practice match, Marui Bunta had ended up sticking gum in the junior’s hair.

It was an experience none of them wanted to repeat.

“However,” Rikkai’s captain continued, “I think most of the rest of the positions should be changed. Jackal should be put on reserve,” he noted, pointing a finger at the Doubles 2 match-up. “I don’t think that his particular skills would be of that much value against the Oshitari-Mukahi pair.

“And Bunta should be in Singles 2 – we should counter their volley specialist with our own.”

“Who do you propose putting in Doubles 2, Yukimura?” asked Sanada. His voice was expressionless, but he was surprised.

He and Yukimura had disagreed over position before – during the district preliminary and prefectural tournaments. But this was the first time the captain had been so blunt and assertive about his disagreement.

Sanada had always thought of Yukimura as very gentle, and more passive than aggressive. He was beginning to wonder if that was really the case.

“Hiroshi and Niou,” Yukimura said finally. “Niou and Oshitari Yuushi both have a tendency to pull off the unexpected.”

Sanada nodded in assent – he had to admit that this change, at least, made sense. He opened his mouth to ask Yukimura what he planned for Doubles 1, when he was interrupted.

“You should be in Singles 1,” he said.

Sanada’s eyebrows rose. “I should be?” he asked. Atobe Keigo, of course, was the player they expected Hyoutei to place in their top position.

With that in mind, Sanada had placed Yukimura in the opposing position.

“You are our captain, Yukimura,” he said, “and you’re undefeated in singles.”

Yukimura lifted his shoulder in acknowledgement but shook his head. “That may be,” he said, “but considering Atobe’s unique talents, I don’t think that’s wise.”

There was the Hyoutei’s captain “Insight” to consider, certainly, but that wasn’t the real reason Yukimura wanted to avoid playing him.

He had no desire to play the scorned lover seeking revenge on the tennis court, and he was certain that that was the kind of match he and Atobe Keigo would have played.

Not that he could tell Sanada that, of course.

His vice-captain was speaking again. “That leaves you and Renji in Doubles 1. You haven’t played together competitively before.

“And Ohtori Choutarou and Shishido Ryoh are rumored to be one of the best combinations in Kanto – as well-matched as Niou and Hiroshi, or Seigaku’s Golden Pair.”

Yukimura’s lips curved in amusement. “Yes, they are quite good,” he said. “But I’m sure we’ll be fine.

“Even if we should lose,” he added, “it’s unlikely that we will be handed a loss in singles, so we still have the victory.”

“Very well,” said Sanada. He bent his head to the paperwork again, filling out the forms that had become so familiar to him during the regular tennis season. He looked up again. “Are there any changes you would like to make, to the other matches, Yukimura?”

“Hmm?” asked Yukimura. “No, Hyoutei was the only one where I could see room for improvement.”

“Then, when you’ve finished making adjustments, I’ll take them down to be sent to the tournament administration.”

Yukimura nodded as he neatly reprinted the names of the match sheet. “Thank you, Genichirou,” he said, handing the taller player the corrected form. “You can go home after you’ve finished that. I can get everything else done myself.”

“I’ll come back here, Yukimura,” Sanada stated.

“It’s not necessary, Genichirou.”

“It is, Yukimura,” Sanada returned. “It’s my job. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Genichirou,” Yukimura snapped. He winced slightly; that had come out sharper than he had intended. Sanada had even noticed it, judging from his vice-captain’s widened eyes.

Yukimura smiled sweetly, an expression he had long since perfected. “Just go home,” he said. “It’ll be fine.”

Sanada hesitated, then nodded. “Very well, Yukimura,” he said, turning on his heel and walking out the door.

He shut the door softly behind him, and stared at the blank piece of wall across the hall from the Rikkai captain’s work area.

Something about Yukimura Seiichi had changed.

It was hardly a drastic change, by any means; in fact, it was very subtle. Yukimura was still, for the most part, quiet, soft-spoken, and polite. But now he was…different.

He was more blunt, more assertive, more willing to disagree.

Sanada wasn’t used to that; the Yukimura he had known had always listened, smiled, and offered alternative suggestions.

He glanced back at the closed door. The shift just seemed so abrupt to him, and yet it didn’t really seem at odds with the captain’s personality.

As if the boy he’d known for three years hadn’t been the real Yukimura at all. But that was ridiculous.

“Is there something wrong, Genichirou?” a familiar voice asked from his left.

Sanada turned his head and looked into the smiling face of his best friend. “No, nothing, Renji,” he said. He looked down at the sheaf of papers in his hand. “I need to get these to the office,” he said.

“Oh, are those the match-ups for the fall tournament?” Renji asked with mild interest. “I’m on reserve for the Hyoutei match, right?”

“You were,” affirmed Sanada. “But Yukimura changed the order.”

“Oh?”

Sanada nodded, a distinctly perplexed look on his face. “Jackal’s on reserve now,” he said. “You are playing Doubles 1 with Yukimura.”

“Ah,” Renji said. He smiled. “I’m sure we’ll be fine; we’ve played together in practice.”

“Yeah,” said Sanada. “But I would have thought that he would have wanted to be in Singles 1.”

Renji’s lips twitched. Sometimes, he thought, Sanada Genichirou was just dense. “Perhaps,” he said, “he’s afraid his knee would prove to be too much of a weakness against Atobe Keigo’s Insight.”

Sanada inclined his head. “He said something about that.”

“Then I wouldn’t worry about it,” Renji said. He laid a hand on Sanada’s shoulder. “It’s sounds like a logical decision.”

“Maybe,” Sanada said. He still wasn’t convinced.

Something told him that there was another reason that Yukimura didn’t want to play against Keigo, but he didn’t know what it was.

He didn’t think his captain knew about his relationship with the Hyoutei player…he certainly hadn’t said anything about it.

“You should get to the office if you want those mailed today,” Renji was saying. Sanada looked over at his taller friend, who was checking his watch. “They’re probably getting ready to close, now.”

Sanada shook off his reverie and nodded. “Yeah,” he said. “I’ll see you tomorrow at practice, then?”

Renji nodded. “Of course,” he said.

He waited until Sanada’s long strides had taken him around the corner, towards the junior high departmental office, before he turned and slid open the door to the classroom Yukimura and Sanada had been using as a makeshift office.

Yukimura Seiichi was standing at the window, rubbing absently at a line between his eyes.

“I—“ he began, before pausing. A smile broke across his face. “Oh, Renji,” he said. “I thought that Genichirou had come back.”

The data specialist shook his head and smiled as he walked up behind the captain.

“No,” he said. “I just sent him off to the office, actually. He was lingering outside the door.”

Yukimura tipped back his head so that he could look his friend in the eye. “Was he?” he asked. “I must have confused him.”

Renji’s mouth quirked up in an amused smile. “That’s probably a safe assumption, Seiichi,” he said. He gave the captain a rather penetrating look. “I understand we’re playing doubles together, now.”

“Mmm,” said Yukimura, turning to stare back out at the Rikkai tennis courts. They were empty now; everyone else had gone home. “Yes.”

“Are you sure you want to do that? You’ve always preferred singles.”

Yukimura lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “It’s the best solution. Bunta is best suited against Akutagawa Jiroh, and Akaya will be able to counter Kabaji Munehiro successfully.”

Renji nodded. “Yes,” he agreed. “But you would probably do as well against Atobe.”

“Perhaps,” Yukimura said. “But I like tennis; I’d rather not play the game like that.”

The Rikkai’s captain’s statement was ambiguous; it would have confused anyone else. But Renji knew what Yukimura was saying.

He didn’t want to use tennis as a vehicle for his anger and hurt.

Renji gazed at Yukimura’s face, reflected in the clear glass of the window. Seiichi was sad again, he thought. During the past few days, ever since he had first discovered Sanada’s relationship with Atobe Keigo, the captain had been keeping his mood up; he hadn’t allowed himself to think too much about it.

But that was changing, Renji noted, and Yukimura was hurting again.

Renji lightly laid his hands on Yukimura’s shoulders, leaning close to his teammate. “How are you?” he murmured, lightly brushing his lips across the shell of Yukimura’s ear.

Yukimura shivered slightly, and turned his head so that he was looking Renji in the eyes again. Their lips were close, almost touching.

“There have been better days,” he admitted, his breath feathering across Renji’s parted lips. “It was kind of…hard, to have to work with Genichirou this afternoon.”

“I understand,” Renji said. His brushed his hand lightly up the side of Yukimura’s face, running his fingers through his friend’s dark hair. He bent his head, brushing his lips across Yukimura’s own. “It will get better.”

Yukimura let his eyes drift shut, and ran his hand lightly up Renji’s arms, and linking them loosely around the other player’s neck. “I know,” he murmured back.

It had been three days since they had first been together, in the tennis clubroom.

Renji’s hand slipped from Yukimura’s shoulder, falling to his waist, and he pulled the slighter player closer to him, leaning down for another kiss.

The last kiss had been a gentle brush of lips, meant to comfort; this kiss was different. It was deeper, and almost demanding.

Yukimura’s hands tightened at the back of Renji’s neck and he leaned up, seeking even more contact.

When they finally broke away, both Rikkai seniors were breathing in short puffs. Yukimura’s face was flushed, and his eyes were dazed.

Renji ran a fingertip down the curve of Yukimura’s cheek. “We seem to choose convenient places, don’t we?” he asked.

Yukimura smiled, his eyes falling to focus on Renji’s neatly knotted tie for a moment, before flicking back up to his face. “Yeah,” he said, humor sparkling in his brown eyes.

They seemed to be showing a distinct fondness for the school, in particular.

Yukimura’s eyes never left Renji’s face as he slipped his fingers under the green and gold striped tie, slowly loosening the knot before slipping it off his friend’s neck and letting it fall to the floor. He slowly opened the first few buttons before stopping, letting his fingers caress the line of Renji’s collarbone. He had a thoughtful look on his face.

Renji slid his own hand up the back of Yukimura’s shirt, his fingers coasting over the soft skin. “What are you thinking?” he asked, whispering in the captain’s ear before running his teeth lightly across a tendon in Yukimura’s neck. “Seiichi?”

Yukimura gasped softly, knotting his fingers in the cotton fabric of Renji’s shirt. “Renji!”

The other senior seemed to have an uncanny ability to find the most sensitive areas possible.

Renji chuckled, untangling his fingers from Yukimura’s hair and loosening the other player’s own tie. “What were you thinking about, Seiichi?” he asked again.

Faint color rose in Yukimura’s cheeks and he looked down, unfastening more of the buttons on Renji’s school shirt. “I was just thinking that this is…nice,” he murmured.

A small smile curved Renji’s mouth. “I’m glad,” he said.

He wrapped his arm around Yukimura’s waist, guiding him backwards, until they bumped into the worktable where Yukimura had been doing the paperwork for the upcoming tournament.

The data specialist pushed the scattered papers to one side, and lifted Yukimura onto the table.

“Renji!” said his friend with a light laugh. “I do have to finish those, you know.”

“Shh,” said Renji as he leaned over his teammate. He captured Yukimura’s lips in a brief kiss. “I’ll help you with them. Later.”

Yukimura stared up at him for a moment, before his mouth quirked upwards in a small smile.

In the past, he remembered, his token protests had always been ignored…and whatever he might have had to do forgotten. It wasn’t that way with Renji.

“Okay,” Yukimura said finally. He leaned up and pushed Renji’s shirt off him, letting it fall to the ground with a faint rustle.

Renji smiled, unbuttoning Yukimura’s own shirt, dropping it on the table, before leaning back over his captain and brushing his hair out of his eyes.

Yukimura’s eyes were dark with desire, and his fingers were clinging to Renji’s shoulders.

Renji brushed his lips lightly over Yukimura’s shoulder. The smaller player smelled good – like soap and salt and sweat – and Renji was tempted to linger there for a while.

But, he thought as he nipped at sharp planes of Yukimura’s shoulder blade, Seiichi would probably be disappointed if he did. The Rikkai captain tended to be the impatient sort.

“Renji,” moaned Yukimura. He ineffectually pushed at his partner, trying to force him lower. “Please.”

A grin spread across Renji’s face. “You’re so impatient, Seiichi,” he murmured. “I’m not going to disappear, you know.”

Yukimura’s eyes had drifted shut while Renji had been nipping and licking at the skin of his shoulder and neck, and they opened again now. He peered at his lover through eyes that looked like hot, melting chocolate.

“Yanagi Renji,” he said in a husky murmur, “stop teasing me.”

Renji lifted an eyebrow. That sounded distinctly like a challenge. “Or what?” he couldn’t resist asking.

“Hmm,” said Yukimura. His gaze skimmed down Renji’s bare chest and he lifted a hand, tracing his fingertip from the data specialist’s collarbone to the fastenings of his pants. “Well, I’m sure I could think of some fitting punishment. For disobedience.”

Both of Renji’s eyebrows rose into his hairline, and for the first time, he wondered if he had really analyzed this situation properly. Yukimura Seiichi had always been quiet, honest, and unfailingly polite to everyone. And he had always been attractive, of course; but never…seductive.

There had always been something deeper, of course; something that Seiichi had carefully kept hidden. He’d been afraid of rejection, Renji thought as he bent to kiss Yukimura’s smiling lips. But, maybe, he wasn’t afraid when he was with Renji.

The thought sent a spark of happiness through the center of his being.

“Well,” he whispered when he broke their kiss, a wicked glint lighting his eyes, “I’ll have to be careful then, won’t I?

“I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

The best part about the second time, Renji thought, was that he knew. He knew where Seiichi’s sensitive spots were, he knew exactly when to bite and when to kiss.

In short, he knew precisely what drove his partner insane.

For instance, he mused, there was that spot right above Seiichi’s collarbone, right in the hollow of his throat. A kiss there made the Rikkai captain shiver convulsively and grab at anything that was handy – as if he needed an anchor in a storm.

A light, almost chaste kiss was all it took, Renji thought as he pressed his lips to the aforementioned spot.

Then there was his right nipple – specifically his right, Renji remembered. His left wasn’t nearly as sensitive. A gentle flick with his thumb made Seiichi arch his back and gasp.

“Renji!”

Yes, Renji thought with satisfaction. Just like that.

“Renji,” said his teammate. “You’re teasing again.”

“Oh?” He feigned innocence. “Really?”

Seiichi didn’t honor that with a reply.

“But aren’t you enjoying it, Seiichi?” he asked. His lips coasted back up Yukimura’s exposed throat, nibbling and licking, until he reached the same tendon he had nibbled on before.

Nibbling on it, running his teeth across it, made Seiichi go stiff and gasping, but brushing his tongue lightly across it caused a slightly different reaction, making the slighter player toss his head back and moan.

Sucking on it, Renji thought as he latched his mouth around the stiff tissue at Yukimura’s throat, made Rikkai’s captain scream.

Unfortunately, he added to himself as he swallowed Seiichi’s cries with another kiss, they were in a place where he couldn’t afford to let Yukimura’s screams echo.

The classrooms at Rikkai were certainly not soundproofed, and it was still early enough that there were still people around who could hear.

When their mouths broke apart, Seiichi was gasping. There was bright color staining his cheeks, and his dark hair fell around his face in tangled, damp curls.

“Renji,” he whispered hoarsely. “Please.”

It was just like the last time, he thought; a seemingly endless crescendo of pleasure that never peaked, it only grew sharper and more intense in each moment. Until he couldn’t tolerate it anymore, and simply broke.

With Renji, Yukimura wasn’t exactly when he would shatter, exactly what would make him break into pieces, and it both frightened and excited him.

He had a feeling Renji knew that.

The other senior smiled down at him, brushing his lips across Yukimura’s jaw line and sliding his hands down to loosen his pants.

Renji felt Yukimura relax slightly as he felt the fastenings release, as Renji slowly slid the fabric off his hips, letting it fall to the floor in a tangled heap.

For some reason, it seemed like Yukimura was frightened of too much pleasure. Maybe, he thought, it was because he’d always been in control of it before, and wasn’t now.

“Don’t worry, Seiichi,” he murmured. “I’ll be there to catch you when you fall.”

Yukimura’s lips curved into a small smile, but he didn’t say anything.

He didn’t know what he could say, not to something like that.

The smaller boy sat up, his fingers flicking open the button at Renji’s waist, and lowering the zipper with a soft rasp. He pushed at the heavy, dark cotton until they pooled at the taller player’s feet, and then looked up into Renji’s inquisitive eyes.

The last time, he had let Renji lead him, let him be responsible for everything. But he didn’t want to do it that way, this time.

Yukimura leaned up, brushing his lips against Renji’s. “This time,” he murmured, “I want you to be inside me. Please, Renji?”

Renji smiled. Sometimes it surprised him just how impatient Seiichi was. But maybe he’d give his lover exactly what he wanted.

Just this once.

“Of course,” Renji said. He stepped closer to his teammate, sliding his hands under Yukimura’s thighs. “Lean back, then.”

Yukimura complied, leaning back on his palms, and letting his head fall back as Renji stretched him with oil-slicked fingers.

The data specialist was a lot more careful with him than anyone else had ever been – he didn’t know why that continued to surprise him. It was Renji, after all, and Renji would be careful.

His eyes flared open as Renji’s long fingers brushed against a spot deep inside. “Renji!” he said in a gasping moan.

“Did you like that?” Renji asked. He smiled, a self-satisfied grin. “I’m glad.”

He brushed his fingers against the same place a second time, and Yukimura’s arms gave way under him. He gasped. “Ren – ohhhh.” His eyes squeezed shut again.

That time, he thought as he felt Renji slowly pull his fingers away, that time, he’d definitely seen stars.

Yukimura started when he felt Renji’s hands close around his bare waist. “Renji?” he asked, startled. Whatever he’d been expecting, it hadn’t been Renji gently pulling him into a sitting position. “What are you…”

Renji stopped his words with a brief, hard kiss. “I want to watch you, Seiichi,” he murmured. He ran his hands up and down the soft skin of Yukimura’s long legs. “Is that so strange?”

Yukimura blushed slightly and shook his head, his hair tumbling around his face. “No,” he said, “I suppose it’s not that strange.”

He smiled, sliding his hands up Renji’s chest, and curling his arms around his shoulders. “I want to watch you, too,” he murmured, tilting his head to nibble gently at Renji’s ear.

Renji sucked in a startled breath when he felt Yukimura’s teeth gently close around his earlobe. “Seiichi,” he moaned softly.

The slighter player eased away, his smile broadening. “I want you, Renji,” he said, tracing his fingertips across the data specialist’s lips. “Don’t you want me?”

Renji’s dark eyes glittered with a predatory light. “I want you,” he said as his lips captured Seiichi’s own, “more than air.”

And, he continued silently to himself as he hitched Yukimura’s legs higher and thrust inside, he might need Yukimura Seiichi just as much.

Yukimura gasped and jerked when Renji entered him. He’d been ready – more than ready – but he hadn’t expected that Renji would give him what he wanted just yet.

The other senior looked pleasant and unassuming, but he liked to tease. He liked to drive his partner as close to the edge as possible before giving him what he wanted.

“Renji!” he gasped. His fingernails dug into the flesh at Renji’s shoulders, and his legs tightened convulsively around his teammate’s hips.

Renji looked up, concern darkening his eyes. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked. He didn’t think he had…but Seiichi had sounded so startled.

Then other boy shook his head. “No,” he said. “I was just surprised.”

An amused smile curved Renji’s mouth. Only Seiichi, he thought, would be surprised to get exactly what he wanted.

“Ah,” he said, sliding his hands under Yukimura’s hips. He pulled the smaller boy closer to him, and his smile widened when Seiichi instinctively tightened his legs. “I apologize for startling you.”

He thrust again, brushing against the same spot he had been teasing earlier. Seiichi’s back bowed back and a faint cry, somewhere between a moan and a scream, broke from his lips, before he buried his head on Renji’s shoulder.

It felt so good, he thought, so wonderful, and he didn’t think he really deserved it. After all, what could he give Renji in return? Because surely, for all this effort, all this comfort, Renji would want something from him. And he wasn’t sure that he could give Renji anything, not yet.

Yukimura Seiichi didn’t remember that, sometimes, the giving was enough.

Suddenly, Yukimura stiffened, his head falling back with a low cry. “Ren—“ he choked off.

The last things he felt before the world fell away was the firm press of Renji’s mouth on his as his lover silenced his screams and the hot, wet trail of a single tear rolling down his cheek.

***

Yukimura opened his eyes slowly, staring for a moment up at the plain white ceiling of the classroom. It was getting late. It wasn’t yet full dark, but the sun was sinking low in the sky.

“Renji,” he murmured quietly, rubbing his hand lightly up and down the damp skin of his partner’s back. “Renji?”

The other boy blinked open his eyes and propped himself up on one elbow. He smiled at Seiichi, a sleepy, sated smile.

For just a moment, Yukimura irrationally wished that he could be the only one to ever see that expression.

“I wasn’t too heavy, was I?” asked Renji in a husky voice.

Yukimura shook his head. “No,” he said. “But we should probably get up – move to the chairs, or something.”

Renji nodded, slipping back onto the floor and standing up straight. He ran a hand over his mussed hair and smiled over at Seiichi.

Yukimura only had a moment to enjoy the view before the world shifted under him. “Renji!” he squeaked. “I meant separate chairs!”

Renji shrugged as he collapsed bonelessly into one of the desk chairs pulled up to the worktable, Yukimura sprawled on top of him. “I’m perfectly comfortable like this,” he said, letting his eyes drift shut.

Yukimura chuckled softly as he leaned his head against Renji’s shoulder, twining a few strands of the other boy’s straight, dark hair around his fingers.

They passed the next few moments in companionable silence, before Renji spoke again.

“Can I ask you something, Seiichi?” he asked.

Yukimura blinked open his eyes. He’d been drifting off – despite the awkward positions they were in, he’d been genuinely comfortable.

“Sure, Renji,” he said.

The data specialist turned his head, letting Yukimura see the concerned expression lurking in his eyes. “Earlier,” he asked, “were you crying?”

Yukimura blinked at his teammate for a moment, before paling slightly. He bent his head.

“Yes,” he muttered.

Renji ran a hand over Seiichi’s damp hair. “Why?” he asked gently.

Yukimura was silent for a long moment, so long that Renji wasn’t sure he was going to answer.

“Everything’s happened so fast,” a muffled voice finally spoke. “Or at least,” he amended, “it’s seemed that way. There are just so many things changing at once.

“I’m afraid that soon, there’ll be nothing familiar left.”

“Ah,” said Renji.

He should have known, he thought, that Seiichi would worry about something like that. Seiichi had always worried, and that certainly wasn’t going to be changing now.

Renji ran his fingers through his friend’s tangled curls and waited until Yukimura’s breath had calmed. “It must seem like the world’s shifted under your feet,” he murmured. “Since you were in the hospital for so long.

“And you’ve been thrown a major change in the past week; it’s only natural that you feel upset by it.

“But I think you’re too hard on yourself,” he added, tipping Yukimura’s head upward. “Changes will come, whether we like it or not.”

He pressed a light kiss to Yukimura’s tremulous mouth before glancing towards the window. The sky had darkened to a dusky violet, and the stars were shining like sharp pinpoints.

“We should get home,” he said reluctantly. “Or we’ll miss dinner.”

Yukimura nodded, sliding off Renji’s lap. “Yeah,” he said. “My mom will nag me if I miss another meal this week.”

He walked across the room to where their clothing was haphazardly piled, bending over to gather up his shirt and pants.

Renji stared at him, and through sheer force of will, managed to contain the urge to cross the room, and pin Seiichi against the wall. Like he’d said already, they didn’t have time.

That didn’t mean that he couldn’t think about it, of course. But it would probably be best not to let Yukimura see what he was thinking.

That wasn’t too difficult a task, he mused; he’d been hiding his feelings from people for years now.

“Renji,” said Yukimura laughingly as he turned. He was fully dressed again, and was re-knotting his tie. “You need to get dressed too.”

Renji smiled. “Right, right,” he said, standing up. “I was just…thinking.”

Seiichi nodded, tossing the other boy his clothes. “I’d ask, but you probably wouldn’t tell me,” he said. He smiled at the surprised look Renji shot him. “I’ve known you for three years, too, Renji,” he said. “And I know that I’m not the only one with a separate face to show most of the world.

“I’ve always wondered, though,” he added, “who you show your feelings to. Anyone?”

Yukimura smiled at Renji. “Maybe you’ll tell me one day.”

He gathered up his unfinished paperwork, stuffing it into his bag. He’d come early the next day, he thought, to finish it up.

Renji watched him silently. That had been…unexpected, he thought. He’d never thought that anyone had ever noticed that he wasn’t exactly what he appeared to be.

Maybe it was the case of one mask recognizing another, he mused.

“I’ll walk you home,” he said with a warm smile. “If you don’t mind, of course.”

Yukimura gave him an uncertain look, but then nodded. “Sure, Renji,” he said.

The walk from Rikkai was quiet; most of the students and salarymen were already home for the evening, and Renji and Yukimura had the streets largely to themselves.

Neither boy talked much – they were both lost in their own thoughts, and it came as a bit of a surprise when they realized they were at Yukimura’s front gates.

Yukimura looked up at Renji, a half-smile curving his lips. “Thanks for walking me home.”

Renji inclined his head, not speaking.

He had the feeling Seiichi had something he wanted to say to him.

They stood in the silent, cool night air for several moments before the slighter player spoke.

“Renji,” he said with a heavy sigh, “you’ve been wonderful, and I can’t tell you how glad I’ve been to have you.”

Renji nodded. The unspoken ‘but’ was practically shouting in the still air.

“I think,” continued Seiichi, “that I need time. To figure out what I want; it wouldn’t be fair to you otherwise.”

Renji nodded again. “I thought that you might be feeling that way, Seiichi,” he acknowledged. “You should take the time you need.”

He cast a quick glance at the empty front window of the Yukimura house before stepping closer to his friend.

“I’ll wait for you,” he murmured, tracing a fingertip down Seiichi’s jaw.

“Renji,” began Seiichi. He hadn’t planned for this – he’d thought that Renji would accept his decision and move on.

Yukimura didn’t really want to make the other boy wait.

“It’s okay,” Renji said. “I want to wait until you’re ready, Seiichi.”

He bent his head, brushing his lips across Yukimura’s in what was supposed to have been a swift, gentle kiss.

It became something much deeper and sweeter.

When they finally broke apart, they were both breathing in quick gusts of air, and their eyes were soft and dazed.

“I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” Renji finally said, stepping away from his teammate.

Yukimura nodded silently, lifting a hand in farewell when Renji turned to go towards his own house.

He stood at the front gates for a long time after Renji had disappeared, staring after him.

He meant something to Yanagi Renji, he thought, something more than just friendship and comfort…but what exactly? And why?

Yukimura Seiichi still didn’t know the answers to those questions when he went to bed that night.

~fin