Destiny Interrupted

Prince of Tennis. Tezuka/Oishi, Oishi/Eiji. R. 1700 words.

Pressure builds, and sometimes it feels like the world is going to crumble away.

Faultlines

“Is this what you want?”

Tezuka advanced and Oishi reflexively took a step back. His hip caught the edge of the endtable and Tezuka caught his arm as he stumbled. His back thumped against the wall and with one hand on his shoulder, Tezuka held him there.

“Is it, Shuichiro?”

Oishi swallowed. He couldn’t answer. He didn’t know.

*

They sat quietly in the middle of Oishi’s room, two figures huddled in a hurricane of textbooks and papers. Time ticked by slowly, and there was nothing to interrupt the soft rhythm of their breathing besides the gentle bubbling of the fish tank and the constant scritch of Eiji’s pencil on paper.

Oishi looked up from the book spread over his legs. He needed a break from the numbing cascade of facts and figures. Across from him, Eiji was belly-down on the floor, one foot kicking lazily as he frowned at his scrawl of notes. There were doodles in the margins, little figures in what Oishi guessed were supposed to be the uniform of the tennis club.

Eiji’s hair had fallen into his face and Oishi watched him lift a hand to scratch at where the strands curled and tickled his cheek.

Oishi smiled.

“Do you want some snacks?” he asked.

He was already halfway to standing when Eiji caught his arm with both hands. “Maybe later,” Eiji said with a wink, and pulled him back down.

Like it often did, later came and went.

Love all

*

Oishi was dreaming.

Of hands on his thighs, sure and strong, thumbs pressing into muscle as they slipped beneath the hem of his shorts. Of marks sucked onto the pale skin of his belly. Of lips on his throat and words melting into his ear.

“Lay back… Spread your legs for me…. Open your mouth…. Good….”

Of Tezuka.

“Now, moan for me….”

15-Love

*

The smile on Oishi’s face faltered, turned to ice-water and trickled down his spine. “N-no,” he said, twisting away, and Eiji’s kiss landed sloppily on the side of his mouth. He put his hand on Eiji’s chest and pushed gently. “Not today.”

Eiji sank back on his heels. “Not today?” He picked at the grass between his knees.

“I’m not feeling well,” Oishi said. It was a half-truth, but the half that was a lie hurt to say.

“You’re sick?” Eiji’s hand went to Oishi’s forehead and his expression rearranged itself into concern.

Oishi’s stomach wrenched into a tighter knot. Somehow concern was worse.

“Should I go home?”

It would make things easier that way. He could use the time to think, to try and clear his head. Somehow, he had to get rid of the images that persisted: hands pushing his knees back, claiming kisses on his neck and chest, and, oh god, the press of weight on top of him…. But, he’d already pushed Eiji away once today, he didn’t want to push him away any further. “No, it’s fine. Stay. Just…let’s enjoy the view, okay?”

Eiji nodded slowly. He planted his elbows behind him, bare legs stretching out along the gently sloping hill. “Okay.”

15 all

*

This time, Oishi was awake.

He lay on his bed, hand on his belly, shirt flipped up in the warm night air. Light from the streetlamps outside filtered through the slats of the windowshades and his eyes traced the glowing lines where they angled at the wall and the ceiling.

“Spread your legs for me….”

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut. He shouldn’t want this. They’d shared a kiss once, back before the tennis club was what it was now, back before Eiji had started to fill his days with smiling. Chain-link had rattled and Tezuka’s trainers had kicked up dust into the air.

“Open your mouth….”

Would he still kiss like that? Harsh and desperate, like Oishi was more important than whether or not he could still play tennis?

“Good….”

Oishi choked on a moan and shoved his hands down his shorts.

30-15

*

Oishi wanted to ask someone for advice, but there didn’t seem to be anyone appropriate. Normally, he would seek Tezuka’s opinion; Tezuka had never failed to be there for him. Obviously, this time the option wasn’t available.

He watched the others throughout the day, questions thick on the tip of tongue. He pictured the sorts of answers they’d give him, from Fuji’s sly amusement to Inui’s impractical practicality. None of them helped, of course. Even delivered in the others’ voices, his thoughts remained tangled and impossible to sort out to satisfaction.

What he wanted more than to ask for advice, was to just forget the whole thing. He was afraid to walk home with Eiji. He knew each step would feel shaky beneath his feet, and he couldn’t make excuses forever. They hadn’t done more than hold hands for a week, and studying had never been that important before. But he didn’t want to kiss Eiji and wonder. He didn’t want to kiss Eiji and compare.

He didn’t want to kiss Eiji and think of anyone else.

30 all

*

Some things were easier said than done.

40-30

*

And some things sent all thoughts scattering from his head before he could even begin to think them.

Oishi bit the inside of his cheek. Eiji had a wicked smile in the half-light, and his skin was soft and smelled of clean soap.

Deuce

*

“I’ll need you to fill in for me tomorrow,” Tezuka said.

Oishi nodded, adding it to his mental calendar, then found himself only half-listening to the rest of what Tezuka was saying. He felt flush and hot, and in the back of his mind was a small voice worrying that Tezuka knew. Surely, it said, evidence of his shameful dreams was stamped on his skin for Tezuka to see.

“Oishi?” The sharp tone of Tezuka’s voice snapped him out his mental tailspin, and Oishi blinked rapidly, feeling heat rising to stain his cheeks. “If you’re not feeling up to the task, I can speak with Inui instead.”

“No, no,” Oishi’s hand tightened on the strap of his schoolbag. He needed to get over this and get over it soon. “I’m fine. I’ll make sure everyone sticks to their new training programs.”

Tezuka turned to leave, and paused a half-dozen paces away. He looked back over his shoulder and pushed up his glasses. “Kikumaru has cleaning duty today. Would you like to walk with me?”

Oishi’s pulse tripled. He looked towards the school guiltily, but he couldn’t really say no.

Advantage Tezuka

*

Hands trembling in the pockets of his jacket and throat gone completely dry, Oishi confessed everything to Eiji.

He was braced for anger, hot or cold, and for a long moment was held suspended in the fear that he had ruined everything that they had ever had.

“Does Tezuka know?” Eiji asked, his lips pursing thoughtfully.

Oishi shook his head.

“Maybe you should tell him.”

“I couldn’t do that!” Oishi’s face burned just thinking about it.

Eiji slipped an arm under Oishi’s elbow, and his cheek pressed against Oishi’s shoulder. Oddly enough, he didn’t really seem angry at all. Oishi turned his face to look down at the top of Eiji’s head and wondered what he was thinking.

“If you don’t, things will probably just stay weird between the two of you.”

Deuce

*

Oishi swallowed and his eyes slid past Tezuka of their own accord. A pot of tea and two cups—one upright and steaming—rested on the table.

“Are you coming in?” Tezuka asked.

Oishi stood just inside the door, his shoes still on. He didn’t plan to stay; he wanted to just speak his mind and go. “No, I just wanted to…” Though well-rehearsed on the walk over, the words seemed to die in his throat.

“I’ve been…” he faltered again, and then it seemed as if it was all pouring out of him. The ground was crumbling away beneath his feet, left him and all his secret wants and fears spread bare in front of Tezuka.

He lifted his gaze from the floor to find Tezuka’s eyes dark and intense behind his glasses. “You came here to tell me this. What do you expect from me? Do you expect me to give you what you want?”

Any relief he had felt vanished. “I- I’m-”

“Is this what you want?”

Tezuka advanced and Oishi took a step back automatically. His hip caught the edge of the endtable and Tezuka caught his arm as he stumbled. His back thumped against the wall and with one hand on his shoulder, Tezuka held him there.

“Is it, Shuichiro?”

Oishi swallowed. He couldn’t answer. He didn’t know.

A hand slapped to the wall beside his head and then Tezuka’s mouth was on his.

Match Point

Tezuka didn’t close his eyes at first and Oishi felt a full-body shiver run through his frame. The fingers splayed against the wall slid to cradle his face, tips pressing beneath his jaw as Tezuka’s tongue pushed past his teeth and their lips crushed together. It wasn’t much different than he remembered, only this time he wasn’t too shocked to kiss back, he just didn’t want to.

Oishi started to squirm, but the wall at his back prevented any further retreat. His protests turned to cinders in the heat of Tezuka’s mouth, and with his eyes screwing shut, he put his hands to Tezuka’s chest and pushed. “S-stop.”

Tezuka’s hand lingered on his face, and when Oishi opened his eyes, it looked as if Tezuka might kiss him again. “Stop,” he repeated, quietly.

“Go home,” Tezuka said, his hand dropping away as he stepped back.

“Thank you, Tezuka.”

“Don’t forget the clubhouse needs to be opened a half-hour early tomorrow.”

“I won’t.”

Break

*

Fuji’s steps were whisper silent as he came down the stairs. “That was difficult for you, wasn’t it.”

Tezuka sat down at the table and picked up his neglected cup of tea.

“It’s cold,” Fuji said, kneeling across from him.

“Yes.”

*

End