Still Waters
by Trixie
disclaimer: i own
plushies of some of the tennis boys. but
that's it. they don't give me any money.
summary: Oishi is
taken by surprise. (PoT, Oishi/Fuji)
notes: takes place
right after Captain Yamato shows up to their training camp.
~*~
Oishi pretended to
sleep for nearly forty-five minutes. Eiji was snoring softly next to him,
a sound he found oddly soothing, but he still could not calm down.
The Captain had been
there! Captain Yamato! Oishi still was uncertain about their
'practice' today, but he knew that tomorrow would be grueling, so perhaps it was
for the best after all.
He opened his eyes,
acclimating to the dark before sitting up. Dark lumps on the ground
peacefully remained still, the odd noise here and there no more than a murmur
against the wind. He couldn't stay in the bedroll all night; he'd go mad.
Perhaps if he took a quick soak... He knew that draining the baths was one
of the freshmen's duties, but he was pretty sure they did that in the morning.
Even if the water were cool, it would be refreshing, maybe help to clear
his mind.
He slipped out of his bedroll
quietly, and headed for the bath, walking slowly and carefully so he didn't make
any noise as he passed the coach's room or the freshman girls' room.
He stripped out of his
bedclothes in bath's locker room, and slipped a towel around his waist.
That alone felt good; perhaps part of his restlessness was something
else? Living in communal quarters,
working so hard as they were, there really wasn't any 'private' time for any of
them. Oishi didn't think he was
that… *needy*, but it did feel good to relax and feel the soft terry cloth
against his bare skin.
He stepped into the bath and
stopped dead. Fuji was sitting on
the table under the windows where the extra towels were piled up, his body and
hair wet as he leaned back and stared up at the moon.
Oishi felt himself reacting
to what he was seeing before he even had a chance to think.
Fuji's body was quite beautiful, very slim, and if Oishi didn't *know*
how strong Fuji was, he might be tempted to describe him as frail.
His arms were wrapped around his knees, lending vulnerability to his
posture, and his face was washed in the moonlight, making his features finer and
more elegant. But it was his eyes
that arrested Oishi, grabbed him and twisted his gut.
Fuji had such… emotion in
his eyes. Oishi couldn't describe
it, even to himself, but he could see it.
And it twisted his gut even
more, because his first thought was that Tezuka got to see Fuji's eyes like this
whenever he wanted. Hell, *Eiji*
did, too.
But he wasn't one of the
prodigy's chosen ones. Not that he
even wanted to be. It was pointless
to set himself up as Fuji's rival, because Fuji crushed his rivals into dust and
that wasn't what Oishi wanted, but he wanted to be able to *compete*.
He could still escape.
He was sure Fuji hadn't seen him, yet.
He just had to back out, and…
"It's a lovely night,
isn't it? Not that great for
sleeping."
Fuji's voice drifted across
the bath like the water lapping against the walls, dreamy and soft, lulling.
Oishi felt trapped.
"You should be very
proud, Oishi."
He started, pulled by strings
he couldn't see to take a step forward, even as he wanted to flee.
"Proud? What…?"
Fuji smiled and turned his
gaze to Oishi. "This camp. You've done an excellent job; we're all improving, even in
this short time."
Oishi took another step
forward, his traitor feet giving in to Fuji's calm.
"I… It's not me… I mean, Ryuzaki-sensei…"
Fuji
laughed, the soft peals crackling against the water pleasantly.
"Don't be shy, Oishi-kun. You've
done a good job." Fuji opened
his eyes entirely, and watched Oishi. "Tezuka
would be proud."
Oishi
flushed all over his body, embarrassingly, completely unable to hide his
reaction.
Fuji's gentle chuckles echoed
off the tile and the water, making the sound large and empty.
He turned his face away from Oishi, the curl of his lips appearing more
sinister because his eyes were now closed.
"Did you need to talk…. again?"
It was a rub.
It didn't matter where they were, or what Oishi was feeling.
He had to remember that Fuji was Fuji.
Fuji did not lose. Fuji did not let anyone close.
Fuji did not show weakness. Sometimes,
though, it was hard to know what game Fuji was playing.
Oishi wasn't tired, but he wasn't in the mood for this.
He wanted to relax. "I'm
sorry for disturbing you, I should just…"
"Does it bother you when
I mention Tezuka?"
There was a warmth in his
voice that Oishi found irritating. Fuji
didn't show affection, and he didn't casually throw around his feelings.
Oishi bit the inside of his cheek, swallowing his jealousy.
He had no reason to be jealous, after all.
They *weren't* competitors, really, even if he did still admire Tezuka,
and he didn't mind Eiji's relationship with Fuji, because they'd discussed it,
and there were boundaries…
"You think too much,
Oishi. Maybe that's why he prefers me.
Sometimes, you have to just go with your feelings.
Didn't you want to take a bath?"
Oishi's hand went to his
towel, clutching it closer. He
glared at the tile between his feet, imagining that he was standing on Fuji's
face. "I couldn't sleep, but I
really wanted to be alone."
"Sorry," Fuji said
for no reason. "I'm always in
your way, aren't I?"
"Not really," Oishi
asserted. "We're just
teammates."
"Come closer," Fuji
beckoned.
Oishi had no reason to obey
him, and he certainly wasn't *obeying* him, not at all, but he had no reason not
to go along with him either, not really, and anyway, the room was a little warm.
Maybe Fuji had turned on the heater.
He probably wasn't thinking that clearly; obviously, they were talking
too loudly, standing so far apart.
"Oishi, do you dislike
me?" Fuji leaned his head on
the windowsill, looking over at Oishi with half-lidded eyes.
The line of his collarbone looked so fluid, the skin so smooth over it,
and Oishi was tempted by the scant insinuation of sweat that coated the skin.
He blinked, opening and
closing his fists. "Why
would… I dislike you?" He
licked his lips, and he felt naked there, in just a towel, far too aware of his
skin, and aware of Fuji's skin, the way Fuji had his legs up, pressed against
his chest, he might well be naked, after all, hadn't he always been the first to
strip for showers? Fuji was never
ashamed of anything, because he was *Fuji*, damn it, and why would you be
ashamed of the skin that Tezuka had licked?
Oishi took another step closer, and he could hear Eiji laughing at him,
prodding him closer. 'Ne, Syuichiroh, can't we invite Fuji to join us this
weekend? He's been so lonely since
the Captain left, even though he won't say so…'
"I
don't know, I suppose," Fuji sighed, "but you don't, do you?"
"No,"
Oishi agreed. "I don't."
"Are
you jealous of me?"
The
question was innocent, totally innocent, as if Fuji had nothing to do with it.
Oishi shook his head sluggishly. "Of
course I am. Isn't everyone?"
"Not
everyone," Fuji smiled enigmatically.
"Come closer."
Oishi
was standing now with his thighs pressed against the table.
Fuji lowered one leg sinuously, so it ran down Oishi's leg.
Fuji looked up at Oishi from behind closed eyes.
"Why?"
"Why
what?" Oishi asked from genuine confusion.
"Why
are you jealous of me? Is it
because of Tezuka? Aren't you happy
with Eiji? …I can leave Eiji
alone if you want. He told me that
you wouldn't mind. Anyway, he's
like a jackrabbit; I'd think you'd be happy with the reprieve."
"It
all comes so easily to you… Like you were just *born* with it… The tennis, I
mean… I have to work so hard, and…"
Fuji
was laughing now, and it sounded musical against the water and the walls, and it
closed Oishi inside of it, the sound of it.
Fuji leaned forward and put his hand on Oishi's cheek, lowering his other
leg against Oishi's other leg, so he was straddling him.
"You know, you have really beautiful eyes."
Fuji
was kissing him. He tasted like
mouthwash, and pepper. His fingers
clutched at Oishi, tearing at him, almost.
They were kissing.
Fuji
stopped, just pulling away enough to breathe against Oishi's mouth.
"Really. I'd never noticed before.
They're so green. Look at
us. Just two towels away from
fucking. Do you want to, Oishi?"
It
was hard to think, because Fuji was so close to him, and he could smell
something that could probably be described as Fuji now, and his crotch was close
to Fuji's crotch, and that seemed like a pretty good thing.
They were kissing again, and this time, he wound his arms around Fuji's
body, lifting him up a little and putting his hand on Fuji's rear, and he could
rip off that towel, and Fuji would be bare before him, and he could lay Fuji
down on the table, and…
…and
this was not Eiji. The stunning
lack of Eiji-ness could not be more apparent.
He wasn't even thinking about how Tezuka had probably done this exact
thing with Fuji, except to think that he wasn't thinking it.
He didn't want this, he realized, breaking the contact between them.
He didn't want to be here with anyone who lacked Eiji-ness.
What
did that mean?
Fuji
started to laugh again, but this sounded different. It sounded
self-depreciating, so Oishi assumed it was a trick of the water.
"Guess it's just as well, ne, Oishi-kun?
I did mean to save that for Tezuka, after all."
Fuji
was moving past him, almost moving through him, but he was solid, still, and his
thoughts moved like the waters, back and forth against the walls of the bath.
"Wait… What? Why?"
Fuji
smiled, closing his eyes, and shrugged carelessly. Oishi noticed that his towel was practically falling off his
hips, but Fuji clearly didn't care. "I'm
not sure. I guess I was testing
you, Oishi-kun. Just wanted to see
how far you'd let me go. Enjoy your
bath."
Oishi
was alone in the bath. Confused and
lost, he nearly forgot to drop his towel and slip into the water.
It was ice-cold at that point, but he didn't mind it so much.
He needed to clear his head.
~*~
end