Ookiku Furikabutte Fan Fiction ❯ The Best Laid Plans ❯ Part 2 ( Chapter 2 )

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The Best Laid Plans

By Herme23

 

“The sky caves in

the devil cuts loose

you blow blow blow blow blow your fuse

when you fall in love”

 

—Bjork, It's Oh So Quiet

 

part two

 

“Hey,” Tajima said. “What are you doing out here by yourself?”

 

“Uh, nothing,” Hanai's mouth said on autopilot. “Practice is cancelled today, didn't Abe tell you?”

 

“Yeah, he did.”

 

Hanai's mouth ran out of pre-scripted responses. “Ah, oh, uh…so, why are you…uh…”

 

“I'm looking for you.”

 

To his horror, Hanai felt regions better left to the imagination twitch as he imagined far more depth to those words. His eyes lowered unconsciously to look at Tajima's lips. They opened slightly and a bit of pink tongue slipped out. Hanai forced himself to meet Tajima's eyes again.

 

They were very close, so close that—

 

Tajima had apparently crossed the dugout while Hanai was otherwise preoccupied and had, for lack of a better phrase, thrown himself onto Hanai. Well, literally. A small wriggling bundle of energy was suddenly deposited onto Hanai's lap, hands rough from long hours of practice gripped the side of his face and pulled his mouth against the newly familiar lips of Tajima.

 

Hanai, for lack of a better phrase, freaked the hell out. Jerking backwards, Hanai cracked his head against the wall of the dugout. He briefly saw stars, though it was unclear to him whether that was because of the blow to his head, or the fact that Tajima had dragged his hips forward and brushed his groin against Hanai's own.

 

With a surge of strength, Hanai lifted Tajima off of him and back against the narrow seat of the bench. Hanai was not long after him and he crushed his lips to Tajima's with a fervor he'd rarely felt before outside of the darkness of his bedroom on any given Saturday night. Hanai tried to grip his fingers into Tajima's hair but the short locks offered no purchase for his desperate fingers. So, instead, he cupped his hand around the curve of Tajima's head, just where it met his long, smooth neck.

 

It was then that Hanai became acutely aware of just how small Tajima really was. His body felt childlike crushed beneath Hanai's, but when that small body rose up to greet his, the feelings it gave him were anything but childlike.

 

In fact, they were frighteningly mature.

 

Reigning his senses back in, Hanai pulled up off of Tajima. The boy looked confused, but temptingly aroused, and Hanai had to pull tighter on his reigns to not simply throw himself back down and rip those impeding clothes off.

 

Tajima was panting and he lifted himself up on his elbows. "What's the matter?"

 

Hanai opened his mouth to speak, to give an excuse, an apology, a reason, many reasons, as to why they shouldn't continue this, as to why Hanai wouldn't continue this. Nothin' doin'. Rather than bob his chin like a fish, Hanai instead turned and walked away. He walked, but fast, because simply, to run would be obvious shame, but to walk slowly was to allow too much time to re-think the situation and turn back. So preoccupied with his modus operandi was Hanai that he didn't notice he was being trailed by more than his shadow until he was already at his locker.

 

"Hanai Azusa!"

 

Startled to hear his full name resounding off the walls of the empty locker room, Hanai turned only to find Tajima rushing up to his side. "T-tajima! Wh—"

 

Tajima walked straight up to Hanai, grabbed his face and pulled it downwards, forcing Hanai's lips to his own. Short of that evil Monday the Fourteenth (Yesterday—was it only yesterday?), and earlier in the dugout (only a few moments?!), Hanai had never been so startled in his life. Unfortunately, though the rest of his body flailed, and his hands tried to go through the lockers, Hanai's face was permanently stuck between Tajima's hands.

 

"Man, I hate tall people like you," Tajima fairly mumbled into Hanai's gaping mouth. "Listen!" he said louder. "Stop running! If you keep running I might not always be able to follow you.”

 

“W-why do you want to!?”

 

Tajima made a confused face that, Hanai blushed to admit, looked adorable. “I just always want to keep you within my sight.”

 

Hanai nearly groaned. **In…what?** he wondered, but instead he said, "In baseball?"

 

Tajima released Hanai's face and Hanai fell back against the lockers. "Don't be stupid," Tajima said. "Not just that, and you know it. Why are you always running away?”

 

Hanai gave him a look of indignation. “Y-you ran first!”

 

“When?”

 

“Yesterday.”

 

Tajima blushed. “Well, I'm back now,” he replied with a curt nod that seemingly explained everything. “So why are you running away from me now? Why are you always ignoring me?"

 

"I have to!"

 

"Why?” Tajima cried. “Don't you know it's just gonna make me try harder to get your attention?"

 

"Why do you want me to notice? Don't *you* know what I'll do if I don't ignore you?"

 

Tajima took the opportunity to inch closer, dropping his voice. "What will you do?"

 

Hanai tried. He really did.

 

It wasn't his fault.

 

It's just Tajima…that voice…that body…that *scent* that rolled off of that body. Hanai, really, he had lost from the get-go. Reaching out, Hanai grabbed Tajima's arms and hauled him towards him. He leant down and pressed his lips against Tajima's, drowning in the feel of them: chapped, yet soft and yielding, and hot! Even as Hanai pushed his tongue forward he felt Tajima's arms slide around his neck, the slender hips rising back against Hanai's own hips, which had begun grinding against Tajima of their own accord.

 

Giving in, Hanai slid his hands back around Tajima's ass, cupping a cheek and pulling him closer. Tajima responded by lifting his legs around Hanai's waist. Hanai moved his hands underneath Tajima's thighs and lifted the boy up higher. Light and small and perfect against him, Hanai walked forward until Tajima's back met with the tiled wall of the locker room.

 

Kissing Tajima hotly, Hanai moved one of his hands around and unzipped Tajima's pants. Sliding his hand inside, Hanai gripped Tajima's member. Tajima was already stiffening, and he gasped loudly when Hanai touched him. A thousand and one dreams crowded Hanai then, and he felt a thrill at realizing this was true life.

 

“H-Hanai!” Tajima groaned, and Hanai couldn't wait any longer. He fully gave in to Wild Fantasy No. 19.

 

Dropping Tajima to his feet, Hanai turned the boy and pressed him up against the cool walls of the locker room. After first wetting two of his fingers in his mouth, Hanai pressed them against Tajima's small opening. Tajima grunted as the slick digits pressed their way inside of him, but otherwise said nothing else. Repeatedly, Hanai dripped saliva from his mouth to his fingers and worked at the muscle. Finally, he withdrew his fingers and spat into his palm and used it to coat his own straining erection. That, plus the pre-cum, made his fist slide fast along his stiff member and Hanai could only hope it was enough.

 

Finally, Hanai returned his attention to Tajima. Placing one hand on Tajima's shoulder, Hanai put the other on Tajima's slender hip, and using this as a guide, Hanai eased forward until he met and then passed the strong barrier into Tajima. Tajima, meanwhile, let out a throaty groan laced with pain, but there was also pleasure, and the sound (Hanai wasn't sure if it was the pleasure, or the pain, or both) drove Hanai onward. He knew for certain, though, that for all the crude preparation and rather quick entry, he was doing something right.

 

Thrusting forward completely, Hanai couldn't help but utter a groan himself. Tajima was tight and hot around him. With every thrust, Hanai forced Tajima up against the wall. Tajima gasped and moaned profusely, curses and dirty words interjected every now and again, but mostly he only babbled, half-words and ill-formed sentences, which only spurred Hanai onwards. He had always figured Tajima would make for a voluble bedmate, but the thrill of experiencing it first-hand was something Hanai could never have imagined.

 

It gave Hanai a strong feeling of dominance to be able to crush the small, lithe body of his sometimes-rival, sometimes-ally between himself and that wall, to trap that little ball of fire for his own pleasure.

 

That's it. This was the New Plan: Tajima would be his for his very own pleasure. After all, so much of Hanai's happiness and misery already depended on Tajima's every word and actions. Even when it came down to baseball, Hanai always found himself wondering if Tajima would agree with his musings. So why not? Why not trap that energy for himself? He would *own* Tajima.

 

But then, Tajima ruined everything.

 

Tajima drew up as straight as was possible, his body arching up against the wall, belly splayed against the tile, shoulders against Hanai's chest. Tajima stole a hand up to grab onto Hanai's neck.

 

"H-Hanai," Tajima gasped, his voice barely above a husky shiver. "Hanai…I've noticed—you watching me. It really gets me hot, when you do that. Ah! I try harder at baseball, but that's not enough…I think of you, of this, every time I touch myself…"

 

Hanai caught fire, and he never recovered.

 

With renewed vigor, Hanai gripped Tajima's hips and thrust up into the willing body fiercely. Tajima cried out as the force drove him ever closer to the end. His hands slid from Hanai's neck, and he pushed them in front of him to help support himself. Sweat made Tajima's hands slick, and passion his arms weak: his hands slid high up the crisp white tiles of the locker room wall, and Tajima was lost in the sensations. Hanai held his waist, but each thrust drove Tajima higher, his heels lifting, ecstasy on the edge of his toes. His fingers strained to the ceiling, he felt one of Hanai's hands slide along the skin of his belly, making a quick detour to his chest before falling down to his madly straining erection.

 

A few quick jerks of Hanai's hands ended it for Tajima, and the rapid fluctuation of the muscles around Hanai's engorged member ended it for him. With a sharp grunt, Hanai spilled himself into Tajima; his hand, slick from Tajima's cum, slid up to rest against Tajima's belly. Hanai held Tajima firmly against his chest, even as they slid downwards. Hanai came to rest heavily upon his knees, Tajima upon his lap. Tajima's legs bent at the knee and his toes and the pads of his feet touched Hanai's calves. That sensation in and of itself excited Hanai and he feared he was developing a strange fetish.

 

Then Tajima turned his head and kissed at Hanai`s neck. “Are you satisfied?”

 

Hanai smirked. “Fuck yeah.”

 

Tajima looked extremely stunned for a moment, but then his mouth broke into a grin. He moaned softly as Hanai's softened member slid out from his passage. “I really wanted you. I still want you.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Tajima rolled his eyes. “Well, duh. I like you.”

 

“I thought you said you hated tall guys like me.”

 

Tajima only smiled and turned around slightly in order to lean his mouth upward to kiss Hanai. “Makes it harder to kiss you…”

 

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“Tajima!”

 

Tajima Yuichiro froze, the fingers of his hands gripping the waistband of this boxers. He looked guiltily at Hanai, who had just yelled at him.

 

But it wasn't his fault!

 

The team had just been made to run several miles in damn near 90-degree weather, and damn it all! Tajima was practically dying of heatstroke! He watched as Hanai stalked towards him.

 

“I told you not to take off your boxers where other people can see you!” Hanai yelled at him. He stepped around Tajima's side, but before he passed Hanai leant down and whispered into Tajima's ear. “People other than me that is.”

 

And then with a wink and a small smile, Hanai continued towards the dugout. “Abe! Did you tell Mihashi about next week's game?”

 

Tajima stared after the tall, well-toned body of his lover, and grinned.

 

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Me: Well, there we have it! I hope this short fanfic was as enjoyable for you to read as it was for me to write. If you loved it, drop me a line, if you hated it drop me a line, either way, I'd love to hear from you. Thanks for reading!