Falling Down

Midorino Mizu

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

Author’s Note: Finally, I finished Part Three in what we’ll call the Renji x Yukimura angst arc. It’s weird and Oshitari has angst.

This party, Yukimura thought, had been a mistake.

Perhaps not for anyone else, he thought as he leaned up against the wall. Perhaps, for everyone else, the idea of a pre-graduation party featuring most of the more competent Kanto region tennis players was actually a wonderful idea.

It just wasn’t working quite as well for him, and the reasons were sitting far away from him, in a secluded corner.

For once, Sanada Genichirou and Atobe Keigo were not the center of attention, Yukimura reflected. They were absorbed only in themselves and their conversation, and no one else was paying them particular attention…except for Yukimura himself.

Genichirou and Atobe still held his attention, no matter how much he wished it otherwise.

He didn’t understand why he still felt this way…why he couldn’t let go. Sanada had never really been his, and now he belonged to someone else. It should have simply been a matter of accepting that, and moving on. But it wasn’t.

He had known about Sanada and Atobe for several months, but there was still an ache that wouldn’t go away, particularly when he watched them together. And somehow, at this crowded party, full of people he barely knew, people he’d only met on the tennis court, it was even worse. They had each other; he was alone.

Yukimura wasn’t used to being alone, and the fact that Atobe was sitting on his vice captain’s lap feeding him cherries was not helping.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, Yukimura thought, if Renji had been there. But he wasn’t. His older sister was graduating from Rikkai Dai Fuzoku’s high school department in a few weeks, and his family had gathered together for a small celebratory party of their own. He knew that Renji would have come with him, if he’d asked, but Yukimura didn’t feel he could ask Renji to skip that.

So he’d come alone, partly because he didn’t want to ask anyone else, and partly to prove that he could.

Maybe he would have made a different decision, Yukimura thought, if he’d realized that Sanada Genichirou and Atobe Keigo would be the only people at the party he really knew. None of the other Rikkaidai regulars had chosen to come -- that was probably a blessing, considering the mischief Niou would have managed to create. And the food would have been gone within the first fifteen minutes if Marui had been there.

But it would have been nice, Yukimura mused as he leaned his head back against the wall. If any one of them had been there, it would have been better. Somehow.

“They’re irritating together, aren’t they?” drawled an almost familiar voice in the Kansai dialect. Yukimura started, turning his head to stare. No one had spoken more than a few words to him since he had arrived. He’d been getting used to the relative silence.

He forced a smile. “Maybe a little,” he admitted. “Oshitari Yuushi, isn’t it? Of Hyoutei Gakuen,” he asked. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”

Oshitari nodded, inclining his head slightly. “No, we haven’t,” he said with a brief smile. “Your reputation precedes you, however. Yukimura Seiichi.”

A single dark eyebrow rose, and Yukimura gave Oshitari Yuushi a long look. He didn’t know the Hyoutei tensai well – didn’t know him at all, really – but something told him that Oshitari rarely meant only one thing when he spoke. That his surface compliment might refer to more than just Yukimura’s tennis abilities.

“Hmm,” the Rikkaidai player murmured softly. One corner of his mouth kicked up in an amused half-smile. “So does yours, Oshitari.”

Like Oshitari, Yukimura wasn’t only referring to tennis.

He glanced back over at Genichirou and Atobe, and noted that the Hyoutei captain had put aside the bowl of cherries he had been feeding Genichirou, and had slipped off the other boy’s lap.

They were going to dance, Yukimura realized, his jaw clenching slightly. He didn’t really want to see that, but somehow, his eyes felt riveted to the two of them.

He glanced over at Oshitari, and noticed an aggravated line forming between the Hyoutei player’s arched eyebrows as he stared out at the floor. Clearly, Yukimura thought, his lips stretching in an amused smile, clearly, Oshitari felt the same way.

“Are you enjoying the party?” he asked smoothly. He suppressed a grin, blinking at the other boy innocently as Oshitari shot him a narrow-eyed look. “I’m afraid I don’t know anyone here too well…they are mostly from the Tokyo teams, after all.”

Oshitari shrugged. “It was amusing enough, for a while,” he said. “But I have to confess it’s boring me a little now.

“There’s just not much interesting going on,” he continued, turning his gaze back out to the floor, where Sanada and Atobe were dancing.

Everyone was watching them, but they might as well have been alone in the room, for all they noticed, Oshitari thought a trifle bitterly.

He wondered if Keigo had ever forgotten about everything when he’d been with him.

“Oshitari?” inquired Yukimura. He glanced out at where the other boy was staring, and clenched his jaw slightly before forcing himself to relax.

“You used to date Atobe Keigo, didn’t you?” he asked. He remembered something about that – their junior year, there had always been rumors flying about the Hyoutei Gakuen team.

He recalled that some of them, at least, had surrounded Atobe Keigo and a pre-regular Oshitari Yuushi.

Oshitari stiffened at Yukimura’s words, before turning his head and smiling. “Sort of,” he said. “It was an interesting relationship.”

He raised an eyebrow, turning away from the spectacle before him, and giving Yukimura his full attention. “And you used to date Sanada.”

Yukimura could feel color start to rise in his cheeks under Oshitari’s amused stare, and he looked away.

“No,” he said. “We never exactly dated.”

“Ah,” said Oshitari softly. “That’s too bad. Who knows what could have happened?”

Yukimura’s eyes darkened. “Since nothing ever did happen,” he gritted out. “Maybe it wasn’t meant to be.”

“Maybe,” agreed Oshitari, shrugging his shoulders slightly. He glanced back out into the room, and Yukimura watched as a muscle worked in his jaw.

He wasn’t the only one who had let a relationship just slide, he thought with a small smile.

“Do you want to go somewhere else?” Oshitari suddenly asked, flipping his head back around to look at Yukimura. “This party is getting terribly boring.”

Yukimura looked up at him, startled, before glancing out over Oshitari’s shoulder.

Sanada and Atobe were still dancing, he noted, if you could even call it that. They were barely moving, and so close that there was no space between them.

Yukimura narrowed his eyes slightly. And Atobe Keigo’s hands were far too high under Sanada’s sweater. He couldn’t do this anymore, he decided. He just…couldn’t; it was too much to have to watch. But he didn’t really want to go off with Oshitari Yuushi, either – he knew enough about the Hyoutei player to know what the other boy was asking.

The Rikkaidai player tipped his head back and shook his head slightly. “I don’t think so, Oshitari.”

The Kansai boy smirked a little, raising his eyebrows. “Why not? There isn’t anything here for you.”

No, there wasn’t, thought Yukimura. He stared out into the room, not really seeing anything. But there was something, somewhere else.

He still didn’t know exactly what his relationship with Yanagi Renji was, Yukimura mused. They were together – sometimes Yukimura wondered if he’d ever been as close to anyone else – but they weren’t dating. It was just hard to say what, exactly, they were. But whatever it was…it was more important than anything Oshitari could offer him.

Yukimura started as Oshitari slid closer to him. “Well, if you don’t want to go somewhere else,” the other boy said, “we could dance. You do dance, don’t you?”

Oshitari Yuushi glanced out at the floor. Several other couples had joined Sanada and Atobe, but they were still the center of attention. Naturally.

“There’s no point in letting them ruin the night, after all.”

Yukimura slid his gaze to the side, silently regarding Oshitari for a long moment, his expression slightly wary. He didn’t really trust Oshitari Yuushi, he thought. He knew he shouldn’t trust him. But dancing wouldn’t hurt anything, and it’d give him something else to do. Something other than watch Sanada Genichirou and Atobe Keigo together.

“Okay,” he said finally, pushing away from the wall. Yukimura smiled up at Oshitari. “Let’s dance, then.”

He let the Hyoutei player pull him out into the room, stiffening a little as Oshitari pulled him close.

“Relax, Yukimura,” the other boy drawled softly. “It’s just dancing.”

Yukimura nodded slightly, letting his hands rest on Oshitari’s shoulders. They were nearly at the very edge of the dance floor, he noted, far away from Genichirou and Atobe – far away from almost everyone else.

He wondered if Oshitari had deliberately chosen the darkest part of the room to dance in. Probably, he thought. He shivered slightly as he felt the other boy’s long fingers lightly trace up his back in an uninvited caress.

It felt…nice, he thought. He knew Oshitari Yuushi wanted him, and that felt good – even though he knew it shouldn’t matter at all. It shouldn’t matter as much as it did.

And he shouldn’t wonder how it would feel to give in.

“Oshitari,” he murmured. His voice was soft, but there was a hint of irritation there, and a hint of curious desire.

Yukimura Seiichi put up with a lot of things, but only when he wanted to. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to put up with Oshitari Yuushi…yet.

“Hmm?”

“Why do you have your hand up under my shirt?” Yukimura asked. His voice was deceptively sweet and gentle.

Oshitari’s eyebrows rose over the thin frames of his glasses, and he smirked. “Do I? My mistake.” He let his hand trail out from under the Rikkaidai player’s thin, loose shirt and rested it lightly against the curve of Yukimura’s ass. “Is that better?”

The other boy’s brown eyes darkened, a scowl forming on his face. No, it wasn’t, he thought. He opened his mouth to speak, when his dance partner’s soft chuckle interrupted him.

“You need to learn to let go, Yukimura,” Oshitari said. “You’re as stiff as a board. Learn to have some fun.”

The Hyoutei player glanced towards the center of the room, where Sanada and Atobe were. “They are,” he pointed out.

Yukimura whipped his head around for a moment, before turning his narrow-eyed gaze on Oshitari again. The Kansai boy gave him his best impression of an innocent look.

He sighed. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt anything, he thought. “Whatever, Oshitari,” Yukimura said, letting his eyes drift shut, acknowledging the part of him that insisted that he let go, that he let the music wash over him.

The song was deceptively slow, but it had a thrumming, deep rhythm behind it – as if it was something hard and heavy trying to masquerade as a sweet love song.

They danced, neither speaking, and Yukimura moved to the rhythm pounding in his ears and to the one thrumming through his head. He hadn’t danced in a long time, he thought – not since he’d gotten injured at Nationals the previous year. And even when he’d danced with people during his first and second years, he had always made sure that it was a little restrained – he’d always been a little scared to let himself go.

It wasn’t restrained now, with Oshitari. With Oshitari, it was a heady rush; dancing was teasing almost-touches and half-promises, a light-hearted prelude to something more dangerous.

Yukimura’s eyes flared open as he felt Oshitari tug him flush up against him. “Wha…?” he started, as he stiffened, his fingers coming up to grip at the other boy’s shoulders.

He heard Oshitari’s dark, soft chuckle through the roar in his ears as the Hyoutei player shifted his hips against his in rhythm with the song. “Oh,” Yukimura gasped.

He should move away, he thought, and a panic started to rise in his throat; he started to push the other boy away from him. Doing something…something like this with Oshitari Yuushi wasn’t a good idea.

Then he felt Oshitari’s hot tongue, tracing a path behind his ear, and he felt Oshitari’s hand pressing him closer as they moved their hips to the primal beat. And Yukimura buried his face in the other boy’s neck, and forgot all about protesting.

A few moments later, he heard Oshitari laugh softly, as if from far away. “Now do you want to go somewhere else?” he asked.

Yukimura lifted his head, looking up at the other boy. “Yeah,” he finally said. “Yeah, let’s go somewhere else.”

Oshitari smiled a little as he stepped back, and started to lead the Rikkaidai captain from the room, into the chilly Spring night air.

It was a long while before anyone else at the party noticed that Oshitari Yuushi and Yukimura Seiichi were gone.

***

The air outside was sharp and brisk, and Yukimura shivered slightly as it hit his skin, penetrating the thin fabric of his shirt and hitting his skin like fine pinpricks.

It had been a warm day for late March, and he hadn’t needed a coat when he boarded the train in Yokohama for Tokyo. But now it was a cold night, and the chilly air hit him with a rush.

This was a mistake, he thought, as he felt Oshitari’s hand rest on the small of his back, guiding him forward. Yukimura shivered again, and this time it wasn’t entirely from the cold. He shouldn’t be doing this, he thought, and he could feel the panic rising in her throat again. He didn’t need to be doing this.

“Are you cold?” asked Oshitari. He stepped away from Yukimura, shrugging off his coat, tossing it over Yukimura’s shoulders. “Here,” he said. “Put it on.”

Yukimura just stared up at him mutely. He wasn’t exactly sure, he thought, who Oshitari Yuushi was; but he’d been absolutely certain about who he wasn’t. He’d been certain of the things that Oshitari wouldn’t do.

He wouldn’t, for instance, be concerned and thoughtful. Yet, Yukimura thought as he stared up at him, he was doing just that.

Oshitari Yuushi confused him, and they’d just barely met.

Oshitari smirked. “You should put it on, Yukimura,” he said. “And stop staring at me as if I’ve grown a second head.

“I don’t want you to get sick, after all.” He started walking again, before stopping and looking back at the slighter boy, who still stood frozen in the middle of the sidewalk. “I’ve got other plans.”

Something in the other boy’s voice made Yukimura shiver again, except not from the cold, and not from panic…from something else entirely. He slipped his arms in the sleeves of Oshitari’s dark blue coat, and pulled it around him, before following the Hyoutei player.

He wasn’t sure about this; no, he knew this wasn’t something he should be even considering. But he didn’t want to turn back now.

“Where are we going?” he murmured as he caught up with Oshitari’s long strides.

Oshitari looked down at him before stuffing his hands in his pockets and shrugging. “My place, I guess,” he said. “My parents went back to Kyoto to visit my grandparents, so it’s empty.”

“Oh,” said Yukimura softly. They walked in silence for a few moments, and Yukimura stared into the trees with their pale buds as Oshitari stared at the bright neon lights.

“How far is your house?” asked Yukimura softly. He fisted his hands in the deep pockets of Oshitari’s coat, looking down at the sidewalk as he spoke.

“It’s a few subway stops,” the other boy said, glancing down at Yukimura. He had a harsh smirk on his face.

There was something comfortable about that expression, Yukimura thought. As if Oshitari wore it a lot.

They both had their masks, Yukimura realized. Maybe everyone had their masks.

The rest of the trip passed in silence. Yukimura stared out the window, first at the darkness of the tunnel, and then out at the star-studded sky. Oshitari lived pretty far out, for central Tokyo, he thought, as he tried to ignore the hot press of the other boy’s leg against his own. It had to be a long commute to get to Hyoutei every morning.

He would have asked Oshitari about it, but when he turned his head to look at him, the Hyoutei player’s eyes were averted, and he seemed to be staring and something that Yukimura couldn’t see.

Yukimura had a feeling that Oshitari Yuushi wouldn’t be interested in unimportant words.

When the left the train and started to walk, Yukimura opened his mouth to try again. He didn’t question what was going to happen, not anymore. He didn’t even question the fact that he didn’t know Oshitari.

He did wonder what the Hyoutei player was thinking, though; he’d been distracted from almost the moment they’d stepped out of the party and had walked to the train station, but it had only become noticeable when they got on the subway. When they realized they didn’t have much, if anything, to say to each other.

“Oshitari,” he murmured as the other boy fitted a key in the lock of the front door. The Hyoutei player glanced down at him, but didn’t otherwise respond. He pushed open the door and stepped into the front hall, stepping aside to let Yukimura pass.

Yukimura stepped inside and smiled up at the taller boy hesitantly. “If you’re having second thoughts,” he began, “it’s alright. I can just go home.”

It would be better, he decided, if he just went home.

The Rikkaidai captain’s eyes had lowered, his eyelashes hiding his expression – hiding any disappointment, any hurt pride that might have lurked there.

They flew up again when a low, dark chuckle reached his ears, and as the zipper of his borrowed coat was lowered with a harsh rasp. “Go home?” Oshitari murmured. “No, I don’t think you will.”

Yukimura’s eyes widened as the blue fabric fell to the ground with a soft rustle. He barely had time to draw in a breath before his back hit the wall, and suddenly he was being kissed.

The kiss was hard, fast, and immediately overwhelming, and Yukimura let his head fall back against the wall with a soft moan. He hadn’t expected this kind of intensity this quickly – he had gotten used to passion that built at an excruciatingly slow speed, until it was finally was more than he could take, until he finally fell apart in his partner’s arms.

Oshitari was hurling him headlong into a sea of intensity, and he wasn’t giving Yukimura the time to adjust.

Yukimura didn’t think he minded. His hands clutched at Oshitari’s shoulders as the other boy pressed him into the wall, nimbly releasing the buttons on his shirt and jeans, and quickly, roughly pushing the heavy denim to the floor. There was something dizzying about moving so fast that he didn’t think he could stop, if he wanted to.

He didn’t want to stop, Yukimura thought as Oshitari ran his hot mouth down his chest, nipping with sharp, teasing teeth, and soothing the soft pain away with a swirl of his tongue. “Oshitari,” Yukimura groaned. He gasped as the other boy’s hands slid down his hips, pushing his thin briefs down and away before pulling him closer, close enough that he could feel the rough fabric of Oshitari’s jeans rubbing against the sensitive skin of his own cock. “Oh, God,” he groaned.

“You’re sensitive,” murmured the other boy, his voice a low purr next to Yukimura’s ear. He brushed a finger across the Rikkaidai boy’s soft, parted lips, smiling when Yukimura opened his mouth and sucked the finger inside, laving the calloused skin with his tongue.

Oshitari hummed deep in his throat and something about the sound, and the feel of the Hyoutei player’s long fingers trailing low on his back made Yukimura shiver. He let his eyes drift shut, and he sucked harder on the long digit in his mouth, bringing one hand up to curl around Oshitari’s strong wrist.

He could feel the other boy’s gaze on him, but he didn’t open his eyes. He wasn’t sure he wanted to see Oshitari’s expression right now – he didn’t want to see the speculation that he was sure was there, in Oshitari Yuushi’s eyes.

Yukimura blinked open his eyes as Oshitari slid his hand away from his mouth, as the other boy pressed him even harder against the wall. He’d been right, he thought dazedly. There was speculation glowing in Oshitari’s eyes…but there was also hot desire and maybe a little triumph.

Yukimura didn’t understand the triumph – the rest was easy enough to appreciate. The speculation was over who he really was; was he the gentle, but still stubborn tennis player who had earned a reputation for both his game and his determined dedication to his promises, or was he the passionate lover?

Few people, he’d learned, could believe that he could be both.

He jerked forward as he felt Oshitari’s wet finger slide into him, his breath coming out in a soft hiss as the other boy stretched him carefully.

“Hold still,” murmured Oshitari, his voice a low rumble that made Yukimura shiver slightly and cling to the Hyoutei player’s shoulders more tightly.

“It hurts,” he muttered, wincing as Oshitari inserted another long finger.

“Oh?” purred Oshitari. He licked a delicate path down the side of Yukimura’s neck as he moved his fingers inside the slighter boy. He grinned as Yukimura jerked and arched in his arms. “And does it still hurt, now?” he murmured as he brushed his fingers against the sensitive spot deep inside the Rikkaidai captain.

Yukimura shook his head slightly, his eyes falling closed, and Oshitari smirked.

“I didn’t think so,” he said, slipping his fingers out of the other boy. His smirk widened as Yukimura released a ragged sigh and pushed back, as if seeking the lost touch. “I’m not stopping, Yukimura,” he said, his fingers quickly releasing the fastenings on his own jeans, and pushing them out of his way.

Oshitari’s hands returned to Yukimura’s hips, clasping the soft, bare skin in a hard grip as he pressed the other boy against the wall of his mother’s entryway. He bent down, nipping at the Rikkaidai player’s earlobe before whispering softly in his ear.

“I’m going to take you,” he murmured to the slight boy in his arms. Yukimura moaned softly as Oshitari rubbed the head of his cock across his opening.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it, Yukimura?” Oshitari said. He grinned as the other boy choked out a low groan, and wrapped his legs tightly around his hips. “Of course you do.”

He swiftly pushed inside, and Yukimura’s breathing suddenly became harsher; his soft gasps became louder sobs. “Oshitari,” he moaned.

It was going so fast, he thought; he felt like he was drowning, like everything was falling away, too quickly for him to do anything to stop it. And he doubted that anyone would catch him, this time.

This was like what it had been like before, he thought as Oshitari’s lips rained a line of kisses across his throat, as Oshitari thrust inside him, hard and deep. Before Renji, it had been like this – a hard and fast descent into pleasure that he’d never been able to halt.

He squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head to the side. It felt so good, he thought, to lose all of his control, to give it over to someone else…to someone who wouldn’t try to protect him. Oshitari wouldn’t do that, he knew. And Renji always did.

Sometimes that was exactly what he needed…but sometimes it was exactly what he needed the least. He wasn’t sure if Renji would really understand that.

Yukimura suddenly arched up, his lips parting on a choked scream as Oshitari pressed inside again, his fingers digging into the Hyoutei player’s shoulders as the world shivered and shattered around him. This was what he wanted, he thought as he threw his head back.

Why, then, did it feel so empty?

***

Yukimura blinked open his eyes and stared up at the unfamiliar ceiling. The floor was hard underneath him, he thought, and the broken glass of a picture frame was scattered across the smooth tile on his right.

He had to get out.

The Rikkaidai senior pushed at Oshitari’s shoulder until the other boy moved away and started to struggle to his feet. Leaving the party with Oshitari had seemed like such a good idea at the time – he hadn’t had to watch Sanada with Atobe, and he hadn’t had to feel alone. But now he knew…knew that it had been a mistake, and knew that it could have ruined something that was really important.

He needed to get away, now.

“Where do you think you’re going?” murmured a husky deep voice as Yukimura managed to pull himself to his feet. “I don’t think we’re done yet.”

Yukimura stared down at Oshitari. “I need to go home,” he said, as much for his own benefit as the other boy’s.

“No, you don’t,” returned Oshitari, as he rose to his feet. “Remember? You told me that you didn’t need to be home until very late.”

He wrapped an arm around the slimmer, more delicate-looking boy, and brushed his lips across Yukimura’s in a soft, almost gentle kiss. “You don’t need to be anywhere but here.”

Yukimura felt himself responding again, leaning into Oshitari’s expert kiss. “I don’t want to,” he said, his voice a soft whimper.

They both knew that his words were a lie.

Oshitari chuckled under his breath. “I can change that,” he said, pulling Yukimura up the stairs, towards his own room. Rikkaidai’s captain wanted him, he knew.

Yukimura didn’t like that he wanted him, he didn’t like that he was letting Oshitari give him what he wanted. But he wanted him, all the same. Oshitari could tell.

It was, he thought, laying Yukimura down on his bed, a kind of power. One he was used to, one he liked having. He could get anyone he wanted, he mused as he kissed a path down the slighter boy’s throat.

It was keeping them that usually ended up being the problem.

Yukimura moaned softly as he felt Oshitari’s mouth moving across his chest. It was different, this time; not nearly as fast, not nearly as hard. It wasn’t a sudden crescendo of pleasure that threatened to drown him before it receded, almost as abruptly as it had appeared. This time, he thought, his breath coming in soft sighs, it was something quieter, slower, and much more insidious.

Something he could find himself becoming addicted to before he realized it.

“Oshitari,” moaned, as the other’s lips traced wet patterns over his sharp hipbones. “Please, I want…”

And Oshitari laughed. “I know what you want, Yukimura,” he whispered, as he reached a hand under the other boy. He smiled as Yukimura gasped and arched against the feel of Oshitari’s long fingers slipping inside his already sensitive body. “Don’t worry,” he continued. “I’ll give you just what you need.”

Yukimura’s only answer was a ragged groan as he tossed his head back and squeezed his eyes shut. He was still sore, from the last time, but the things Oshitari was doing with his fingers felt so good – it felt like the Hyoutei player knew exactly what to do to make his blood start to burn.

He wanted more, he thought as he arched up, and tried to thrust himself on Oshitari’s hand. He needed more.

“What do you want, Yukimura?” he heard as if from a great distance. “What do want from me?”

Oshitari’s voice was soft and amused, Yukimura thought hazily; he was asking questions he already knew the answers to, playing his game.

“I want you,” Yukimura gasped as the other boy pressed his fingers deeper inside him, stretching and teasing him. “Please.”

He heard the laughter in the Hyoutei player’s voice when he spoke again. “Alright, Yukimura,” he said, slowly pulling away from the smaller boy’s body.

Yukimura gasped out loud as Oshitari pushed into him, a raw, harsh sound. It burned, he thought as his legs wrapped around the other boy, drawing him in deeper. It burned, but it was a good burn, one that he could feel spreading through his veins.

“Please,” he whimpered, his eyes opening to stare into Oshitari’s dark eyes.

Oshitari chuckled again as he began to move, smooth, long strokes that made Yukimura cry out, tossing his head on the pillow. He was passionate, the Hyoutei player thought, and that was unexpected…because Yukimura Seiichi always looked like he was made of ice, all perfect and pale and untouchable.

Atobe Keigo had been like that, Oshitari remembered. Except…he’d been more like ice and fire. But still untouchable – at least, for him.

He pushed inside the boy under him, pressing deep, and Yukimura screamed, bowing back as he shivered and shattered around Oshitari.

Minutes later, Oshitari felt Yukimura get up again, heard him ease out of the room and down the stairs. This time, he didn’t stop him.

***

Yukimura crossed his arms over his chest as he walked away from Oshitari Yuushi’s front gate, and turned towards the train station. It was even colder now than it had been when he had left the party; the wind had picked up, blowing briskly across his bare skin, raising goose bumps.

Still, he thought as he bought his ticket and boarded the train that would eventually bring him back to Yokohama, he didn’t think it was just the cold. As cool as March nights were, as thin as his shirt was, that wasn’t why he was shaking.

It was reaction, he thought, and something else…a knowledge. He’d changed something important with a selfish decision, and even if no one ever found out about what he had done with Oshitari Yuushi – even if Renji never found out – it was too late. He knew. He couldn’t take it back.

He sighed softly as he leaned his head against the window, letting his eyes drift shut. It was strange, and it didn’t make any sense, but for some reason…

He felt like he was falling down. And he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand up again.

The next day, Oshitari Yuushi called him, asked to meet him somewhere.

Yukimura said yes.