Crumbling Denial

Midorino Mizu

Disclaimer: Tennis no Ohjisama is the property of Konomi Takeshi.

Author’s Notes: Follow-up to ‘Everything Falls Apart.’ Feel Yuushi’s angst.

***

Keigo wasn’t sure when they had stopped talking to each other.

When he had first started seeing Oshitari – well, when he had first started seeing Oshitari again – things had been much the way they had always been between them. He hadn’t expected them to change. Things with Oshitari never changed.

But they had.

“You’re quiet tonight,” he said softly. “Is something wrong?”

“Not really,” Oshitari said nonchalantly. “Is there something wrong with being quiet?”

Keigo’s eyes narrowed slightly. That was something else that had changed, he thought. Always before, Oshitari would have laughed and just said that it was nothing, nothing at all, before distracting Keigo from his questions with kisses and caresses.

That had been the way it always worked between them, mused Keigo. His relationship with Oshitari had never been unpredictable; he had always known what to expect. That wasn’t the case anymore.

He wasn’t sure if it had been the case for a long time, now that he thought of it. Things had been different from the moment he’d casually told Oshitari that he and Sanada had broken up. There’s was something about Oshitari’s attitude that was completely at odds with the way he had always been before, an intensity that the Kansai boy had never had before. Their relationship had always been deliberately casual, Keigo thought, but Oshitari had changed that. Now, he treated Atobe Keigo as if he were a possession that he would never give up, ever again. And Keigo wouldn’t accept that type of treatment from Oshitari Yuushi.

Sanada had been the same way, Keigo remembered, his hands clenching in his lap. But somehow, it didn’t feel right with Oshitari. It felt a little like a trap.

“There’s nothing wrong with being quiet,” he finally said. “But I have to wonder why you bothered coming over here if you aren’t interested in talking to me.”

He paused, flicking a look over towards Oshitari. The other boy was sprawled in his chair, reading one of his books. He had been in the same place when Keigo had entered the room.

“And I really wish you wouldn’t make yourself at home when I’m not here. I told you that I had things to do this afternoon.”

“Mmm,” Oshitari murmured almost absently, his eyes never rising from the page in front of him. “You were late.”

Keigo’s jaw clenched. “It’s not your business if I was.”

“I see,” murmured Oshitari, his voice strangely flat and expressionless. “Pardon me for thinking I had any right to be concerned.”

Keigo gritted his teeth. “There is a difference,” he said slowly, “between concern and what you’re doing.

“You’re suffocating me,” he stated coldly. “And I won’t tolerate it from you.”

Oshitari lifted his head, staring into Keigo’s eyes. “Suffocating you?” he said with a cold laugh. “Suffocating you? That’s priceless, really, Keigo.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Yuushi.” He crossed his arms over his chest, meeting Oshitari’s stare with a cold glare of his own. “You are suffocating me.”

Oshitari snorted, rising from his seat. He carefully replaced the book on its shelf before speaking again.

“I’m afraid I’m confused, Keigo,” he drawled as he turned around. “You’ll need to explain to me how ignoring the fact that you think of someone else while you’re with me constitutes ‘suffocating.’”

Keigo paled slightly, and looked away. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he found himself repeating. “I…don’t think of anyone else.”

He was lying through his teeth, and they both knew it.

Oshitari gave Keigo a long look, before shaking his head. “Were you under the impression that I was blind, Keigo?” he asked very quietly. “That I didn’t know exactly why you were with me?” His voice was almost emotionless, Keigo couldn’t really hear any anger there – but he thought that he might be able to hear some hurt.

“I’m not really pining for anyone else, Yuushi,” he insisted again. His eyes narrowed at Oshitari’s skeptical look. “I’m not!”

Oshitari stared at him a moment longer, and then shrugged. “Whatever you say, love,” he said airily as he wrapped an arm around Keigo’s waist. “I don’t care.”

The hurt that Keigo had heard in his voice before had disappeared, replaced by something dark, something that almost felt a little…degrading. Oshitari was certain that Keigo was still in love with Sanada Genichirou, he’d made that clear enough. He didn’t like it, that was obvious as well. But he was going to play their usual game anyway.

And Keigo didn’t like that either.

“I’m not in the mood, Yuushi,” he hissed out, pulling away from the tensai, moving to stare out his window. It was different now, he thought. Maybe he had been using Oshitari, and maybe he had known it…but it was somehow different. Knowing that Yuushi knew made it different. He didn’t want to play like that anymore.

Keigo heard Oshitari sigh from behind him and felt his arms wrap around his own waist. “I could change your mind,” Oshitari murmured in a mischievous tone. “I could make you want it.”

His head bent, and Keigo felt Yuushi’s sharp teeth nip lightly at the skin of his throat. He jerked his head to the side, a scowl darkening his face. “I said I wasn’t in the mood, Yuushi,” he said again.

“Why not?” Oshitari asked. “You were always willing to pretend before.” There was some pain and anger in his voice, just a touch, sharp and almost accusing, and Keigo squeezed his eyes shut.

“Please, just stop,” he murmured softly as he felt Oshitari’s hands slide up under his shirt.

Oshitari chuckled, a bitter sound, and his hand slid back down, cupping over the hard bulge at the front of Keigo’s pants. “Why?” he asked. “You don’t really want me to.”

Keigo shivered slightly. “I do,” he said as Oshitari pulled him back, trailing light kisses across the nape of his neck. “Let me go, Yuushi.”

The other boy lifted his head, and Keigo could feel his warm breath feather across his skin as Oshitari laughed. “I don’t want to let you go,” he said as he turned the slighter boy in his arm and pressed him up against the wall. “Make me.”

Keigo shuddered again as Oshitari bent his head, licking a path up his throat, nipping gently at his earlobe. Yuushi knew him too damn well, he thought. He knew all of his weak points. “I said,” and his voice was as full of imperious command as it ever had been, “let me go.” He seethed when Oshitari only laughed, ignoring his words.

The crack of his hand across his teammate’s face echoed in the empty room.

Oshitari stumbled back, his hand lifting to touch his face. He should have expected that, he reflected; maybe he did. Maybe he just hadn’t cared.

“I told you no, Yuushi,” Keigo said, his voice low and trembling. He crossed his arms over his chest and turned his head to stare out the window. “I think you should leave.”

Oshitari stared at Keigo for a moment, and then smiled. “Very well, Keigo,” he said. He bends over, his hair falling over his face as he picked up his long black jacket. He wouldn’t be back, he thought as he shrugged into the coat. At least, not the way he had been used to; whatever he had had with Atobe Keigo, it was over.

His hand curved over the knob of Keigo’s bedroom door, and he turned to face the other boy. “Keigo,” he murmured.

Keigo turned his head, pinning Oshitari with a bright blue stare. “What, Yuushi?”

“You should stop lying to yourself,” Oshitari stated simply before walking away.

Keigo was too startled to ask him what he meant until it was too late, and Oshitari was gone. He turned and stared out the window, watching as Yuushi made his way down the front walk, as he stepped out of the front gates. That had felt strange, he thought.

It had almost felt as if Oshitari was letting him go, and Atobe Keigo didn’t know what to think about that.