Prince Of Tennis Fan Fiction ❯ We Belong ❯ Chapter 1

"We Belong"

A _Prince of Tennis_ Fanfiction

By Andrea Readwolf <andrea_readwolf @hotmail.com>

Chapter: 1/1

Rating: NC-17

Pairings: Yuushi Oshitari & Mukahi Gakuto and others

Genre: Angst, AU, drama, yaoi

Warnings: This story is a work of fiction that deals with homosexuality and the relationship between two volatile characters.

Spoilers: Other stories in this series, um... not too sure about the actually tv show, though

Summary: An accident during a match with the Golden Pair has put a sudden strain upon Yuushi's and Gakuto's relationship. Can the two finally face many of the issues they've spent the last ten years ignoring? Or will they allow their relationship to fall apart?

Disclaimer: Tennis no Ohjisama, characters and settings are the property of Konomi Takeshi.

Date Started: June 13, 2004

Status: complete

Revised: July 25, 2004

Word Count: 7573

"We Belong" Part One by Andrea Readwolf

He was alone in the apartment. The redhead had been a tad bit more than just a little disappointed after Yuushi had texted him to let him know one of his classes was going to be running late and Gakuto shouldn't wait around for him.

It had been a long day, and because of their different schedules it was often hard to see each other during the day. Catching a twenty-minute lunch break together just wasn't plausible when they were both on separate sides of the campus. Usually, they tried to meet up for lunch at least once a week, but this week....

It had been a long week.

Hell! It had been a long two weeks! And "Hellish" would have been a good word for it.

Gakuto had stopped off at a convenience store on his way home to pick up something to eat, even if he wasn't very hungry. He hadn't been hungry much at all these past two weeks. Not since...

Sometimes it was hard to believe he and Yuushi had been together for nearly ten years.

Hard to believe that they'd been freshmen in junior high when they'd first met (and hated) each other. And then their second year, they'd been roomed together...and had stayed roommates, and more, ever since.

Now they had entered their fourth year at the university. Like most of the others from their junior high days, they still played tennis; they were members of the Hyotei University tennis club, although unlike Atobe and Jirou, Gakuto and Yuushi had no plans to continue on in the field professionally.

It meant that both Regular members were required to keep their Honors class schedule above their tennis club responsibilities, and with Yuushi in pre-medical and Gakuto in nuclear science.... Sometimes it felt like the only time they ever saw each other was at club practice, tennis matches, or when they fell exhausted into bed every night.

But it was finally the weekend, and that meant no lectures or seminars or practicum for the next two days!

Gakuto was just finishing up some light chapter reading when Yuushi returned home.

"Hey!" he greeted his lover. "How'd your study group go?"

He noticed the tenseness in the other man a moment before Yuushi struck. Gakuto's breath left him in a loud huff as Yuushi fell onto him. Long fingers cradling his head belied the fierce aggression with which Yuushi's mouth slashed over Gakuto's, pushing Gakuto down against the sofa. The redhead's textbooks and pens fell unheeded to the floor.

Gakuto tore his mouth free with a load moan, thighs clenching against Yuushi's waist in anticipation. "Oh, god, Yuushi, yes!" he begged, arching up into the hard body above him. "Want you~"

Yuushi's teeth were at his throat, his fingers pushing Gakuto's sweater up out of the way to get at his chest and waist. A warm palm pressed against his stomach, molding and meshing the smooth abdominal muscles. Then Yuushi was pulling Gakuto up into his lap, pushing the sweater further up Gakuto's chest, his lips finding one dark nipple and suckling.

Gakuto cried out, writhing in Yuushi's lap, fingers clenching, biting painfully into Yuushi's shoulders. Gakuto's sweatpants slid off his hips with little aid, and Gakuto twisted, trying to finish the removal process, but ended up falling back onto the sofa, again. Yuushi followed, his head still buried beneath Gakuto's sweater, and now Gakuto was bent and angled, legs still trapped by the material of his pants but ass naked.

Yuushi's slick fingers were pressing against his entrance, smearing the cold gel over his anal opening before shifting forward, filling him with a swift, smooth rhythm that left Gakuto's mouth dry and lungs starved for air.

Only when they both lay gasping and sweating did Yuushi begin to finish undressing them both. The redhead moaned, protesting being forced to move so soon.

"What was that about?" he asked lazily, fingers languidly combing through Yuushi's hair.

Gakuto expected to hear their customary reply: I didn't know I needed a reason to fuck you.

What he got instead were Yuushi's lips on his again--a long, slow kiss--and Yuushi's hands moving over Gakuto's body in a way that made him feel entirely too good and warm and strange.... Yuushi's lips trailed over Gakuto's jaw--his cheek, down his throat, across his shoulders... Yuushi touched him with a gentleness that rarely appeared in their sex life.

When it was over, and Gakuto was sure he wouldn't be able to move at all now, Yuushi picked him up and carried him into the bedroom, and then continued touching and kissing him until Gakuto was too exhausted to do anything else but fall asleep.

The sun woke him the next morning--Yuushi was already out of bed and in the shower. Gakuto stretched, working out the aches and kinks from his body. Yuushi had kept him up much later than normal last night, but today was Saturday, and that meant--

"You ready to hit the courts?" Gakuto asked, bouncing up onto the balls of his feet and falling into a deep knee bend, effectively stretching his leg muscles as Yuushi walked into the bedroom, still damp from his shower.

"Gakuto."

"Hmm?"

"I want you to be more careful." The older man didn't elaborate as he began to get dressed in their tennis work out uniforms.

So Gakuto felt perfectly justified in replying with an intellectual, "Huh?"

Yuushi looked up as he readjusted his glasses. "No fancy jumping around or--"

"Ma, Yuushi! What are you talking about?" Gakuto laughed and started throwing his own clothes on. "Stop trying to be funny and let's go play, okay?"

"I mean it, Gakuto. No fancy acrobatics--"

"Yes, yes. Now, come on, Yuushi! I want to play!" he called, practically flying from the room with a sudden energy surge.

It didn't take long to make their way to the university tennis courts, grabbing a quick bite to eat at one of the mini-stops along the way. They choose a pair of non-Regulars to warm up with--good players, but not great.

Gakuto had just delivers another spectacular returned that brought their score to a sweet 4-0, their lead, of course, when suddenly Yuushi turned and walked right off the court.

Gakuto blinked, turning around and gaping at his partner. "Oiya! Yuushi! Yuushi, hey! Wait a minute! Where are you going? We're in the middle of a game here in case you didn't notice! Yuushi!"

The two other tennis club members looked unsure, but Gakuto waved them away in favor of chasing after his partner.

"Dammit, Yuushi," he growled, pushing the clubroom door open behind Oshitari's retreating form. "Just what the fuck do you think---"

He was cut off in mid rant when Yuushi turned on him, pinning Gakuto against the lockers, roughly. Gakuto winced as the metal protrusions ground against his back and shoulders, but didn't get a chance to yell at Yuushi as the other man was already talking.

"Didn't you hear me, Gakuto?" he growled, pressing the redhead harder against the lockers. "I said no more crazy jumping."

"Yuushi--! Wha--You're hurting me!" he protested.

"You were there," Yuushi snapped. "You *saw* where Kikumaru's crazy acrobatics got him, and if you think I'm just going to stand around and let you get yourself paralyzed as well, then you're crazy, too!"

"Yuushi--! What the fuck! Let go!" Gakuto shouted, kicking out at his partner. "Shit, Yuushi, what do you want from me? This is how I play tennis--this is how I've always played, how *we've* always played!"

"Not anymore," Yuushi announced, his voice barely above a whisper. "It ends now, Gakuto, or else, we do."

Gakuto gaped, staring at Yuushi in shock. Yuushi's serious face stared back at him, unyielding.

"You're serious," Gakuto whispered, breathing heavily. "You're actually, fucking serious... Dammit, Yuushi! What the fuck are you thinking?" he shouted, hitting his fists against Yuushi's shoulders.

"Have you gone to the hospital yet?" the other man replied, stepping out of Gakuto's reach. "Have you seen them? I did. Yesterday. It's not right... and... And I refuse to be put in that situation, Gakuto."

"Yuushi--I---" Gakuto shook his head. "I can't just *stop* how I play the game 'cause you're worried I'll get hurt--"

Yuushi's face-hardened; his frown increased. "Then I--"

"Yuushi, please--"

"There's nothing more to say," the taller man replied, shouldering his tennis bag. "Go back to practice, Gakuto," Yuushi told him as he turned to leave the tennis room.

"Yuushi--!!"

The other man didn't stop, didn't look back.

It took Gakuto several minutes to return to the tennis courts finally, in a huff, sans his doubles partner.

He was well aware of the stares and whispers that were being directed at him; he was used to such things. Of course, generally, those whispers and stares were the result of some sexual escapade he and Yuushi had engaged in--not because they'd had a fight.

And that's what that had been, hadn't it? An honest to goodness fight?

Of course they'd argued many times before--with two very stubborn personalities like Gakuto's and Yuushi's occupying the same room for any length of time it was inevitable that there would be arguments and disputes. But Yuushi and he had set patterns and rituals they engaged in that usually ended with them happily screwing like rabbits after each and every dispute.

It was just a matter of waiting it out until that point. Gakuto gave it until tonight, but until then, there was no deny it. Gakuto was fucking pissed.

"Yamamoto! Let's go!" he called, stepping onto a court.

Nearly four hours later, when the redhead finally returned to the apartments he shared with Yuushi, Gakuto was still angry.

How dare Yuushi try to tell him how to play tennis--after playing together nearly for ten years where did he get off--!

He thrust the key into the lock and pushed open the door, kicking his shoes off and storming into the apartment, ready to give Yuushi a good chunk of his mind--and then maybe attempt to screw himself silly.

But Yuushi wasn't in the kitchen. Or the living room. He wasn't in the bedroom either.

Frowning, Gakuto went back through the rooms more carefully, looking for something, anything that would hint that Yuushi had returned to their apartment at all.

There was nothing.

Everything was as it had been when they'd left for practice that morning. Which meant that Yuushi hadn't come home.

But if he hadn't come home, where had he gone?

Gakuto reached for the phone--there were no messages waiting for them. Angrily, he punched in the number for Yuushi's cell; the other didn't answer. Frustrated, Gakuto tossed the phone onto the couch.

He didn't know what to do with himself. He put away the clean dishes; he stripped the bed and put the sheets in the washer and hung the blankets out to air. He signed online and checked his email.

When he looked up again, it was dark outside.

And Yuushi still had not returned.

Anxious, Gakuto tried his cell again--this time, he left a message:

:::WHERE RU:::

Numbly aware that he was hungry, he wandered into the kitchen. Nothing complicated---Yuushi always said that if it was possible, Gakuto could burn water; luckily, they had some Cup of Noodles in the pantry. Add water and nuke for two minutes. He could do that.

He settled in front of the TV.

When he woke up, the clock read three am.

And Yuushi had still not returned.

"Aren't you going to answer that?"

Instead of saying anything, Yuushi reached over and turned off his phone.

"He tore through the underclassmen today like a bat outta hell. Ripped 'em a new asshole--"

"Shishido?" Yuushi interrupted, not looking up from the cards in his hand as he took another sip from his tumbler. "Shut up."

"Fuck you," the other man replied, providing the added gesture of flipping Yuushi the bird.

"Your wife might object."

"Please, both of you," Atobe interrupted, frowning at his two friends. "Can't we play a civilized game of Rummy without any profanity?"

"Fuck no," Jirou answered before Shishido could, grinning cheekily at the cards in his own hand.

"Jirou," Atobe's frown increased. "Do go back to bed?"

"I'd love to," the blond replied, "but your *darling* *wife* let the dogs into the bedroom again, so it's airing out."

Atobe's frown turned into an all-out growl of annoyance, and Shishido's smirk broadened. "Having problems with the wifey-poo again, Keigo?"

"Shouldn't you be home watching over yours," Atobe returned, shooting his friend an un-amused look.

"Nah, she's out with her friends tonight," Shishido replied, discarding a nine of spades.

"Must be nice to have a wife who is liked by others of her kind," Jirou replied grumpily.

Yuushi collected the nine and laid out his run of spades, throwing his last card down on the pile, upside down. Draining his tumbler, he set the glass down on the table with a loud chink before pushing up out of his seat. "If you will excuse me," he said, not waiting for anyone's response before leaving the table and the room.

The three remaining men looked at one another with mixed emotions before finally Atobe stood with a sigh and followed his long-time friend out of the room.

"Well, what the hell is going on between them?" Ryo demanded sourly, wincing as more of the liquor poured down his throat.

His only answer was a loud yawn followed by a snore as Jirou's head rested on his forearms in seeming sleep.

"Cut the crap, Akutagawa, and spill," Ryo snapped, throwing a pretzel at the blond.

Jirou sighed, pouting a bit as he pulled the pretzel free from his hair and sat up. "Yuushi went to see Seigaku yesterday," he answered calmly, softly. "But he left without speaking to either Oishi or Kikumaru."

"He went to see Seigaku's Golden Pair, huh?" Ryo mused. "I... wasn't there for that game, but I've heard the stories."

"Stories can't compare..." Jirou replied, and although his eyes were closed again, the twisted look on his face was enough to let Ryo know he hadn't tried to fall asleep again. "Damn, Ryo, if you'd been there--if you'd seen it... I mean, really seen it... saw them, when Kikumaru landed... I don't know how any of them kept sane. And the--well, you know. It struck a cord with Mukahi and Yuushi, 'cause they're, like, rivals."

Ryo nodded. "Ch--Choutaroh and I played them all the time as D1, but the true rivalry always existed between Gakuto and Kikumaru because of their playing styles."

"Yeah, well, knowing that, is it really so hard to believe Yuushi would be so flipped out about Gakuto still playing acrobatically?"

"Hn. I don't know." Ryo's nose wrinkled. "It would make me think Yuushi's almost human--"

"Because he doesn't want to see the person he loves most get hurts?" Jirou asked in an adorably confused manner.

Ryo scratched his head. "Don't you think that's a bit strong? I mean, 'the person he loves most'? Come on. This is Yuushi and Gakuto we're talking about here. If you ask me, the person Oshitari Yuushi loves most has been and will always be Oshitari Yuushi."

Jirou yawned and stretched. "And that, my friend, is the reason you're married," Jirou quipped, standing to leave.

"Oh, yeah, and what's 'Tobe's excuse?" Ryo snapped, causing Jirou's steps to falter.

The blond man stood in the doorway, looking back over his shoulder at Ryo. "Keigo might have been forced into this marriage, Shishido, but remember: I was here first, and *I'm* still around. *I'm* the one who warms his bed. *Not* Ms. My-Daddy's-President-of-some-really-important-company upstairs. *I* don't let what's mine go just because a few obstacles get in the way. Unlike some other people."

The door shut behind him, leaving Shishido in the room by himself.

"Well, fuck," the dark-haired young man sighed, collecting the cards of their abandoned game.

"This is unlike you."

Yuushi didn't even pause or flinch as he continued to unbutton his dress shirt. "Go away, Keigo."

Atobe crossed his arms and smiled in amusement, leaning against the doorframe to continue watching his friend closely. "This is my house," he pointed out.

"Fine. I'll go." Yuushi's fingers didn't even falter as he began to re-button his shirt.

"Do you really mean to break your partnership with Mukahi?" Atobe questioned, stepping into the bedroom and closing the door behind him.

That question did prompt Yuushi's fingers to pause. "I already have," the darker-haired man replied stiffly.

"Hmm. That's too bad," Atobe mused. "You two were Hyotei's strongest doubles team, after Ryo and Chotaroh, of course. And with those two gone, and now you and Gakuto..."

"So sorry to be a bother."

"Not at all," Atobe pushed away his insincere apology with ease. "You're not a bother to me, Yuushi."

And with a dramatic sigh Atobe reached out to finger one of the many knick-knacks that littered the bookshelves. "I sometimes think I should like to just leave Hyotei behind, be done with school already and just go off and tour the world for a couple of years."

"Then why don't you?" Yuushi asked, only mildly interested.

Atobe smiled. "Jirou doesn't want to."

"You are so whipped." Yuushi smiled and shook his head, turning towards the queen-sized bed. "Go away, Keigo. I want to sleep."

"Yuushi--?"

"What?" he snapped, harsher than he'd meant to.

Atobe stared at him, dark eyes piercing. "Why do you suddenly want to break up with Gakuto?"

Yuushi hesitated in saying anything at all, but finally, he turned away from the intensity of Atobe's insight and answered, "...That's between us..."

He waited for the door to shut behind Atobe before climbing into bed, alone.

By morning, Gakuto began to realize that Yuushi might not be coming home.

That's when the anger that had given way to worry over the night became a heart-numbing shock.

Dully, he thought back over the previous day's events. And then the night before--and then the two weeks prior... Slowly, all the paths of thought led to a similar destination--

<i> Have you gone to the hospital yet? Have you seen them? Kikumaru Eiji... Oishi Syuichiroh? Seigaku's Golden Pair. Them. Him. </i>

Perhaps it was time he did go. Still, it was Tuesday before he gathered the energy--courage?--to go visit.

The room was too quiet, and Gakuto still hesitated entering. He wasn't sure he wanted to see the other acrobatic tennis player and his partner. But...

"Ne, are you awake or sleeping?" he called, trying desperately to inflect indifference in his voice.

But... still...

He couldn't look at the bed; at the body laying strapped to the bed, or the numerous tubes and equipment that ran between and around the bed and its occupant... He stared at the floor, because that seemed like a safe place to look.

"You've got a lot of nerve showing up here," a somewhat raspy voice replied. "Two weeks, almost three, and not a visit? Hell, not even a bloody card... is that anyway to treat your rival, Mukahi?"

The other man was right, of course, Gakuto thought stiffly. They had known each other since junior high school. They had played and fought each other, pitted skill against talent and... And they had been playing each other that day. Kikumaru was, in fact, laying in this hospital room *because* he had tried to return one of Gakuto's volleys and...

Finally, Gakuto managed to offer a small apology to the other boy and forced himself to look up at Eiji.

His blue eyes were red-rimmed and there were large, dark circles under his eyes. Kikumaru's color was paler than Gakuto ever remembered it and he looked like he'd lost a lot of weight recently--and Kikumaru really couldn't *afford* to lose any weight in Gakuto's opinion...

Kikumaru spoke first.

"You look like shit."

Gakuto's retort was out of his mouth before he could stop himself. "Yeah, well, you don't look so hot yourself," he snapped back before blanching. "I--sorry... I shouldn't have..."

"Why not?" There was a grin painfully splitting the other redhead's face. "It's the truth, ain't it?"

A lot of the tension that had unknowingly accompanied Gakuto into the room slowly drained away, and he could feel himself relax a little bit. So Kikumaru wasn't angry with him for being hurt so badly. That was... good.

Still, Gakuto wasn't sure what he should do with himself; he wasn't even really sure why he had come here. It wasn't like he really had anything to say to Kikumaru, or anything like that, and--

"What happened?" Kikumaru asked suddenly, his voice sounding supportive and understanding and confused all at once.

Gakuto hesitated. He didn't need to ask the other man what he meant. It was probably pretty common knowledge among the tennis circuit that he had Yuushi were at odds--the circuit was such a gossip mongrel.

"We had... a difference of opinions," Gakuto answered finally, finding he couldn't continue to watch Kikumaru. "He wanted to clip my wings... I didn't want to."

He looked up, as if to dare Kikumaru to say he was wrong. Daring the other man to tell him that he was wrong, that Yuushi was right, that--

"Nothing can stop me from flying...not even falling," Kikumaru replied seriously, blue eyes glossy with pain staring into Gakuto's with a seriousness and a sense of empathy only one tennis player could share with another who played the same style of tennis. "And we all fall sometimes, don't we?"

'We all fall sometimes, don't we?'

'We all fall...'

Gakuto didn't know what to say, what to think... he--

He turned to leave without another word, but Kikumaru stopped him before he could get away.

"Ne, Gakuto? Don't let it go for too long. We still have a match to finish, don't forget, and we *will* be back to finish it."

Gakuto's eyes widened in disbelief. Surely he couldn't mean---but looking back over his shoulder he could see that the other redhead was serious. He snorted and looked away again.

"So, then... things are.... 'okay' between you two?" he had to ask.

"Ah... We all fall down sometimes, Gakuto-kun... the difference is---who's there to catch you. Syuichiroh will always be there to catch me when I fall, and me for him... but, have you tried catching Oshitari?"

For a heart-shattering moment, Gakuto thought someone had shoved something sharp and very painful through the center of his chest. He felt cold and calmly and.... extremely nauseous. And he did the only thing he could think to do. He ran.

He fled from the hospital, willing his eyes and chest to stop burning. He was aware of the other people, looking at him. He wanted to tell them all to mind their own fucking business, but he just kept running. He didn't bother waiting for a bus---he just kept running.

Running.

Running.

Until his lungs screamed and his legs failed him and he fell to his knees in the cold, hard dirt.

He was in a park--which one, he didn't know. Didn't much care, either.

He crawled into the trees and shrubbery; away from the main path, and with his back to a tree, Gakuto curled up and cried his soul out.

Thursday, Gakuto didn't even try to leave bed--his head hurt too much, even though the rest of him still felt numb.

When he became aware that the pounding beat wasn't part of his headache, he was too tired to get up and see who was at the door.

Whoever it was, was persistent, however, and when he didn't answer either the knocking nor the doorbell, the phone began to ring.

"What?" he snapped into the receiver.

"Mukahi-san, open the door please?"

Gakuto hung up.

Five minutes later, the phone rang again.

"Leave me alone."

"Please open the door?"

"No! Now---Chotaroh?"

"Yes."

"What the fuck are you doing at my door?"

"Open the door and I'll tell you," the younger man replied, hanging up the phone.

Gakuto stared at the phone in surprise, and then, dropping it back into its cradle, he slid out of bed. He thought of going to the door as he was and then thought better of it. He snatched a pair of pants from the hamper on his way out and dragged his fingers through his hair. It was better than nothing.

"Mukahi-senpai," Chotaroh greeted cordially with that sheepish smile of his that he'd never seemed to outgrow.

"Chotaroh," he growled, still hating the fact that he had to look *up* to look the younger man in the face, "I ain't your fucking senpai no more--or did you decide to return to Hyotei?"

"Saddly, no, Mukahi-san."

"Then what the fuck are you doing back in Tokyo?"

"Ah, well, my sister has an engagement this weekend, and--um, Mukahi-san? May I come in?"

"No," the redhead groused, turning back towards the apartment proper but leaving the door hanging open for the younger man to follow. Chotaroh closed the door behind him, taking care to slip his shoes off in the entrance way and slip on a pair of the lined-up guest shoes.

"Mukahi-san? What happened here?" the silver-haired man asked as delicately as he could muster.

Gakuto stopped in his tracks and turned to look at what Chotaroh was referring to---his home.

The place looked---well, it had not looked worse since he and Yuushi had moved into the condo three years ago. Maybe the place did not look exactly trashed--at least not to normal people's standards, but then, Oshitari Yuushi was never a man to be defined as 'normal', and he was obscenely obsessed with neatness and tidiness. After so many years, those habits had generally worn off on Gakuto, too, but...

The furniture hadn't been dusted since the weekend; there were still a few dishes in the sink left over from those few times Gakuto had actually managed to make something to eat. He'd failed to take out the trash, and the floors had lost their glossy shine. Even the air actually smelled, tasted, *felt*... stale.

"Hn," he grunted, not really wanting to get into the reason why his home felt like someone else's and not his own.

"Mukahi-san.... where's Oshitari-san?"

And Gakuto wanted to shout at him; tear his fingers through Chotaroh's skin or throw something at him or--or--or--*something*!

"He left," he said as calmly as he could.

"'Left'? But where?"

And Gakuto wanted to laugh, but he didn't.

"You're partners; surely you know where he's gone?"

"We are *not* partners," Gakuto hissed. "Not anymore."

"But that's impossible," Chotaroh sputtered. "I mean, you--"

"It is *not* impossible--we're no longer partners. Yuushi left. And now that you know, you can leave, too. You know where the door is."

"Mukahi-san, wait--Surely there must be some kind of mistake--"

"I don't think you have any right to talk, Chotaroh. Or did you forget that *you* left *your* partner, too?"

Gakuto didn't bother looking at the other boy, and so he missed the flash of pained hurt that passed over the other boy's face.

"Mukahi... Shishido and I... we both agreed to separate because I was going away to school--"

"Yeah? And look at you both! You can't tell me that you're happy with your life the way it is now, can you?"

"A hundred percent happy? No," the silvery haired blond returned. "Who could? And still be honest?"

Gakuto frowned. "Have you even gone to see him? Talk to him at all since---"

Chotaroh sided and slumped, just a little. "No. Not since the wedding. That would just be...cruel. To both of us. That part of our lives is over. We've both moved on."

"Have you really?"

"Shishido's married now," Chotaroh reminded the redhead. "And I have my own relationships."

Gakuto shook his head. "It's just... I don't know! It seems wrong! You two were, like, well, *platinum* back in high school! No one could hold a candle to you two, and now---"

"That was high school," Chotaroh pointed out calmly. "College changes people. But, really, Shishido and I could never compete with what you and Oshitari had. Everyone knew that. We might have been able to play a better doubles game and hold onto the D1 spot, but off the court, you two had what it takes to really *make* it, you know?"

Gakuto laughed. "Yuushi and I? What crack were you smoking, Chotaroh? The only *it* we had was the title of campus fuckers--"

"Mukahi!"

"Well, it's true! We were, like, the whores of the school; only we fucked each other all over the place instead of fucking everyone else."

Gakuto sighed---even the sight of his kouhai's red face wasn't doing anything to improve his mood...

"Yeah, well," Chotaroh coughed. "Everyone could tell how much you two cared about each other--even in junior high school. By high school it was obvious that you guys really loved each other--even if you had...peculiar ways of showing it... literally."

"Really?" Gakuto frowned. "It was obvious?" He laughed. "That's really funny, you know that? 'Cause I didn't even realize it until a couple of days ago..."

Chotaroh blinked, surprised. "You mean---?"

"I really think you should go, Chotaroh," Gakuto said softly. "You can go back and report to Atobe that you've done your duty and checked in on me now."

"I didn't--"

"Goodbye, Chotaroh."

Chotaroh left not too much longer after Gakuto locked himself back in the bedroom. He felt a little bad, watching the younger man leave like a kicked puppy, but Gakuto just couldn't deal with him. Not now. Still. It took him the rest of the afternoon to piece together what he'd said and to realize how close to the mark he'd probably come.

Maybe Atobe hadn't called up Chotaroh and told him specifically to check in on Gakuto, but if there was one person who would know where Yuushi was, it would be their former tennis captain.

And after nearly a week, Gakuto was ready to get up off his ass and stop waiting around for Yuushi to return to him. Maybe it was time he went out and tried to catch the other man.

"How many other places have you called looking for Yuushi, Mukahi?"

It had been a great idea, really--Gakuto had just forgotten to work some things out. Like, what the heck he was supposed to say to one of the biggest pain-in-the-asses he'd ever had the misfortune to be friends with.

"What?" he asked, confused. Was Atobe questioning why he hadn't started looking for Yuushi before now, or.... "None yet--"

"You called *here* first?" Atobe cut him off. "Whatever for?"

Gakuto huffed. "I thought Yuushi would be there...or at the very least, you would *know* where he was..." he answered, resisting the urge to rake a hand through his hair in exasperation.

"Why here?" Atobe pressed, and Gakuto thought he might scream. "There are at least half a dozen other place he could have gone to, so why do you think he would bother to come to me?"

"You--oh, just forget it. Sorry to bother you--" Gakuto growled already moving to click the phone off when Atobe's voice stopped him.

"I will *not* just forget it. I asked you a question, Mukahi. I expect an answer."

"You're not my captain anymore, Atobe," he growled. "I don't have to--"

"Yes, I know. I saw your resignation from the tennis club, but we'll discuss that later," Atobe interrupted again. "Now, answer the question!"

"Because Yuushi respects you, okay?" he hissed angrily, fighting off the ridiculous tears that threatened to burn his eyes again. But once he started, he found it hard to stop.

"Because to him, you'll always be the freaking captain who's opinion matters. Because the thought of him going to either of our families is utterly absurd. Because my family would only try to push my sister or cousins at him. Because his family would just congratulate him on finally having the good sense to get rid of a money-grabber like me. Because my family will never see him as more then dollar signs and his family will never see me as anything more than a fancy-kept whore and... and you have a better understanding of that than anyone else, and--"

And he couldn't continue. It had been a bad idea to try and call Atobe--because Atobe was Yuushi's best friend, and....

Gakuto had to swallow several times before he could speak somewhat clearly again. "And if you see him... tell..."

Tell him what? What could Atobe possible tell Yuushi?

"Yeah..." he whispered hoarsely before giving in and moving to hang the phone back up.

Once again, Atobe's voice stopped him. "Gakuto---! Why?"

Gakuto paused, but then asked tiredly, "Why *what*, Atobe?"

"Why?" the tennis captain repeated.

And with a weary sigh, Gakuto replied with the only thing he could think of. "Because he's my partner. And... and I'm his."

"Gakuto...."

"Because...it's between us," he said finally, firmly, suddenly realizing that even if Atobe knew where Yuushi was, Gakuto couldn't rely on him to play the middle man for them, because this was a matter between him and Yuushi, and them alone.

Gakuto hung up quickly, before Atobe could stop him again.

**

Atobe sighed and released the line. "Well?"

The young man reclining against the sofa was quiet.

"Families are obnoxious things," Atobe commented. "Always wanting you to do what they want, never even bothering to ask your say in the matter."

"Still sore about your arranged marriage?" Yuushi mused, a tired smile tugging at his lips despite the sour taste in his mouth.

"Maybe a little," Atobe conceded. "But what about you, Yuushi? It's been almost a week. Don't you think you should talk to him? Or at the very least leave the house some?"

"Please don't start that again."

"Well, just how long do you plan to mooch off my good graces?"

"'Mooch'?"

"Well, what would you call it?"

"Shut up, Keigo."

"Maybe when you go home."

Yuushi didn't comment.

"Chotaroh said he looked horrible." Atobe poured them both a drink. "You know you can't leave it like this. If you truly intend to end things between you two you need to go back and make a definite break. Otherwise the wound will just continue to fester and neither one of you will be able to move on."

"Since when did you become the all-mighty know it all in relationships?" Yuushi growled, accepting the drink Atobe held out to him.

Atobe smiled. "Since I've learned to cope with both a wife I never wanted and a lover I can't live without. And... " And his smile turned serious and sad. "And since I had to stand by and watch one of my very good friends make what I hope won't be the worst mistake of his life. Forgive me for not wanting to see another friend make a similar mistake."

Yuushi gulped the remainder of his drink and then stood, setting the tumbler down on the glass table with a loud clink. "You're still an ass," he replied before walking towards the door.

"You are staying for dinner, aren't you?" Atobe called out. "Ryo promised to stop by as well."

"Of course. Now, if you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to try to actually study," Oshitari called over his shoulder.

"Mmm," Atobe replied to a seemingly empty room, sipping his drink casually. "And what do you think?"

"I think your lover who you can't live without is cold," Jirou replied, an arm appearing over the back of the second sofa that faced the fireplace.

"Oh? I could have someone bring in an extra blanket?" Atobe offered with amusement as he approached the sofa.

"I was thinking of something more... personal," the blond answered, finding a grip on Atobe's sweater and pulling him down onto the sofa, too.

"Personal is good," Atobe murmured before his partner found a much more enjoyable, and, yes, personal, use for his mouth.

Atobe was walking down the front stair case when the butler answered the door, which was why he was there to greet the drenched redhead in person.

"Gakuto, what a pleasant surprise? Please tell me you didn't *walk* al the way here? Not in this deluge?" he asked, staring at the soaked personage before him.

He really did look horribly pale, almost ghostly white with his dark hair all plastered to his face and head and lips chattering.

"Where's Yuushi?" Gakuto replied.

"Come now, Gakuto. You're dripping all over the floor--" He tried to motion the other man into one of the side rooms, but Gakuto wasn't to be redirected.

"Atobe--where's Yuushi?"

"Gakuto, please--" Atobe soothed with his best businessman's tone, the one that had calmly handled even his father's most fanatical employees.

Unfortunately, employees were not the same as best friends' lovers.

"Cut the crap, Atobe. I know he's here."

Atobe was marginally relieved to see his own lover arrive--until, that is, Jirou opened his mouth.

"Mwah! 'Cuse me," the blond tried half-heartedly to cover a yawn as he sided up next to Atobe and wrapped an arm around his waist. "Oh! There you are, Gakuto. Was wondering when you would show up. Yuushi's in the back sitting room."

"Thanks, Jirou," the very wet redhead replied with a nod of greeting before striding purposefully to the designated room.

"Jirou, love?" Atobe began mildly, refusing to be upset or angry with his lover. "Yuushi doesn't *want* to see Gakuto."

"He tell you that?" the blond murmured, rubbing his nose against Atobe's throat.

"Yes."

"And you believed him? And here I thought you were smart..." The blond man pulled back enough to smile up at his lover and then leaned forward to kiss him. One kiss quickly led into another and another until Jirou finally pulled away, still smiling sleepily at his lover.

"Come on. I wanna make sure they don't screw this up," he announced, tugging Atobe behind him.

~~***~~

Yuushi was staring out at the storm, watching the lightning outline the heavy clouds and the fat raindrops that slew against the windowpanes.

"You always loved to watch it rain," Gakuto asked softly, watching his lover watch the storm. "Why?"

Yuushi tensed, but didn't turn around.

"Yuushi..."

"Why are you here, Gakuto?"

"Because you are."

"Then I'll leave." Gakuto was standing between him and the doorway to the rest of the house, so Yuushi opened the patio door and stepped directly out into the storm.

"I'll just follow you," Gakuto answered, matching actions to words. "You can't hide from me forever, Yuushi. Not anymore."

"Who said I was hiding?" the other man replied, mildly amused.

"Then what would you call it?" Gakuto returned.

Yuushi kept his comment to himself and stared back up into the storming sky.

"Why do you like to watch the storm, Yuushi?" Gakuto asked again

"It... reminds me of you," he answered finally, looking back down at Gakuto.

And they look at each other. Finally. For the first time in a week. Who knows, maybe for the first time in a lot longer than a week.

"Why?" Gakuto pressed, but maintaining his distance.

Yuushi's eyes studied Gakuto's face, his body, past the raindrop speckled eye glasses. "The vitality," he answered. "The fireworks of energy and... passions--the way you like to walk in the rain or run on wet grass or--"

"Or make love?" Gakuto supplied when Yuushi didn't seem ready to finish the last thought. "Mmm..." He nodded, having to remember to keep his eyes open and watch his lover, to not give in to the desire to just melt against him and let the other catch him...

"Yuushi... answer me one more question."

Rain slewed down upon them; lightening flashed, outlining the sharp features of their faces. They were both drenched completely. Yuushi stood in the middle of the side garden and to Gakuto, he looked like he could be the spirit of the storm itself--Power, intensity, raw sexual energy personified. He wanted to reach out and touch the other man, be burned by the fire flash of lightning that dance just beneath the seemingly cold shell exterior.

"Just answer me, Yuushi: Do you love me, or not?" Gakuto growled, fists balled at his sides. His body's shaking had nothing to do with the fierce wind that blew around them.

"Yes..."

It was like the confession was torn from him, but Yuushi didn't dare close his eyes against the other man. He'd learned long ago not to show Gakuto how weak he really was, especially for the redhead himself. But that didn't prevent Gakuto from taking a brief respite, and the next flash of light across the sky revealed the redhead's head tipped back, as if to soak up the very light itself. Another flash, illuminating Gakuto's dark hair plastered to his head and face, his skin pallid from the cold rain. And his eyes---eating into Yuushi's chest, devouring his soul.

"Say it."

'Say it? Say what? What do you want from me, Gakuto? What haven't I already given to you over and over again?' Yuushi asked mentally.

"Say you love me," Gakuto whispered, and when Yuushi remained silent, he screamed over the thrashing storm around them, "Say it!"

"I love you."

Gakuto's body looked ready to fall over---Yuushi wanted to reach out and steady him, catch him and support the other young man like he had always done, but something held him back. Something... out of the ordinary; they had gone beyond their set of norms.

What they had had between them had never been about love. It was dangerous to love in Hyotei; it was considered a weakness... But that hadn't stopped Ryo and Chotaroh, had it? Nor Keigo and Jirou for that matter. And yet, he and Gakuto, who had been together the longest of all of them... they had never spoken of love; it was as if it was against their unspoken rules.

They were about sex, and partnership, yes. Trust, maybe, for they trusted each other to support themselves. And maybe... yes, maybe they were about companionship, too. But never love; because sex wasn't love. And despite how Yuushi might have felt for his redheaded companion, he knew better than to try and confuse the two emotions.

Sex was sex. Love was love.

"I love you, too."

He almost didn't hear Gakuto's reply--the wind lashed around them so fiercely. "I love you, too," the redhead repeated, trudging across the muddied yard to grab the front of Yuushi's shirt and yank him forward. "You hear me, you stupid, fucking, idiot? I love you," he growled before slashing his mouth up onto Yuushi's.

Yuushi's arms were around him, pulling Gakuto up against his body... and then they were slipping, falling and rolling into the muddy grass until Gakuto was straddling Yuushi's waist and their mixed confessions of love met and mated somewhere between teeth and lips and eager tongues and anxious hands as the rain continued to shower over them, washing away the anxieties of the past month.

~~~~***~~~~

The curtain fell back into place as the young man turned away from the window and back to his companion. "Yes, well, they seem to have worked things out between them," Atobe purred, relaxing back into Jirou's embrace.

"Mmm, good..." the blond purred. "We have at least a good hour before Ryo and Karina arrive for dinner. What do you think we should do between now and then?"

"Oh, I can think of a few things," Atobe mused, backing Jirou up in direction of the sofa.

"Just a few?" Jirou teased, twisting and pushing the darker haired man down on the sofa first. "Well, it's a start, I suppose."

~~***~~

~~Owarimasu~~

This story was influenced by Pat Benatar's song "We Belong."

Many times I've tried to tell you
Many times I've cried alone
Always I'm surprised how well you
Cut my feelings to the bone
Don't wanna leave you really
I've invested too much time
To give you up that easy
To the doubts that complicate your mind

Maybe it's a sign of weakness
When I don't know what to say
Maybe I just wouldn't know
What to do with my strength anyway
Have we become a habit
Do we distort the facts
Now there's no looking forward
Now there's no turning back
When you say

Close your eyes and try to sleep now
Close your eyes and try to dream
Clear your mind and do your best
To try and wash the palette clean
We can't begin to know it
How much we really care
I hear your voice inside me
I see your face everywhere
Still you say

We belong to the light
We belong to the thunder
We belong to the sound of the words
We've both fallen under
Whatever we deny or embrace
For worse or for better
We belong, we belong
We belong together