NTA
by Monnie

Shishido canted his head back against the shower wall and just... breathed, as the cold water hit him, stabbing sharp, chill ice-bladed needles splashing over skin that flinched away from them. It made him gasp a little before he started breathing, again. Regular. One. Two. Easy, slow breaths, even with the cold, Hell, he'd had to run laps in winter before, right?

Like on a tennis court--just hearing the rasp of his own breathing, no matter what the atmosphere was like--feel the game, know that he could win it--it didn't even matter who he was against, because at some point, tennis had become a matter of beating himself, and it didn't matter what idiot thought they could hold their place across the courts from him. Didn't even matter what the final score was, really.

Yeah, it'd taken awhile, but he understood that, now--sure, he knew that he could win--maybe even win at singles, if he wanted to. And he knew he could do it not because he was the best there was--it really was kinda funny how he'd managed to convince himself of that, back then, even though Atobe trashed him on a court every time they stepped onto it, the bastard--but because he knew when not to lose his head.

Hey, if he knew to keep from losing his head in a tennis game, when tennis was really one of the few things he really gave a damn about, how different was any other kind of game, right?

Okay, yeah, so the game was a little different, here. Sure, it was still doubles. (Somehow, Shishido was pretty sure he'd never go back to singles, not unless he had to.) Except that today, it wasn't tennis, there wasn't a court, or racquets, or... no, he wasn't going to think about balls, because him snickering at that was just too awful for words.

Still, though, tennis, or not, and it most definitely had nothing to do with their combination on the courts--he felt somehow like his partner was standing both behind him to back him up--and, at the same time, somewhere across some imaginary net from him to give him the fight of his life. Impossible, yeah, sure, there couldn't be two Ootoris (Shishido wasn't sure his heart could've taken it if there were) but he wasn't trying to be rational and realistic and... stuff.

Just that, well, when he had to trust his partner to hold his back in a hard game--and damn it, why hadn't anyone ever told him that dating was so friggin' hard?--he really didn't expect Choutarou to be hitting metaphorical Scud Serves at his head at the exact same time.

Well, okay, that wasn't really fair, either. All of this would have been friggin' easier if he could've blamed it on Ootori Choutarou, but... he couldn't. He just couldn't. It hadn't been Ootori who'd promised to wait. And he'd promised, and it didn't matter that he hadn't said it to Ootori himself--Shishido Ryou didn't break promises, damn it. Even if he made them to himself. Not when they involved his Choutarou.

Even though it really was his Choutarou who did stupid things like getting changed for the night right in front of him.

It made Shishido's breath skitter every time it happened--which was dumb of him, seriously, especially since he always watched, but he couldn't help the way his chest went tight and his mind went, well, just plain stupid. It was just that seeing his Choutarou undoing each and every one of those white buttons with long, meticulous fingers... it was like watching a present unfold itself right there in front of him, one inch of wrapping at a time... and then there was the way he finally shrugged off the white dress shirt that he wore for concerts--one shoulder, then the other, always, rolling the blade of it just a little to push the cloth off his skin--pale creamy gold, darker maybe against the pressed white material, or maybe he made the shirt look bright, 'cause Ootori made everything around him look a little brighter.

He knew that he was a dumbass for watching, especially since, Hell, he knew what watching Ootori did to him.

But he always did, staring because he couldn't bear to look away from that familiar map of skin and texture--greedy for a glimpse of lightly sculpted abs, or those tan lines on Ootori's arms--he'd licked them before, and, well, it made Ootori laugh, but he let Shishido do it. And Shishido would have done it, even if he hadn't already wanted to, just to make his roommate's eyes twinkle like that when he laughed and complained that it tickled, squirming away.

He didn't know Ootori's reasons for wanting to wait--didn't need to know them, frankly, and there wasn't a chance in Hell he was ever gonna try and ask him--that was too much like pressure. Hell, even if he didn't have a reason, it didn't matter. If Ootori wanted to wait, that was good enough for Shishido, and the gods only knew that Shishido Ryou was a bastard, but he wasn't enough of a bastard to push, not about something that was so... well, important. Intimate. Gods, he really was getting to be a sap.

So no pressure. Really. Ootori just couldn't help how sexy he was, he'd realised that--he knew that Shishido wanted him, sure--his Choutarou was the last thing from dumb, and he'd have had to be pretty damned dumb not to notice--but... Shishido had figured out that his sweet, sweet, too-damned-knowing and still too-friggin'-innocent Choutarou didn't really have a clue why Shishido wanted him.

Weird, how it was the eyes that did it for Shishido, just about every single time--just shoved him over the edge of 'stupid with love' to 'get-away-from-me-Choutarou-because-I'm-so-going-to-jump-you stupid with lust.'

Yeah, his own eyes had done a little bit of a bug-out when Ootori had reached for the button on those sleek black concert pants--his Choutarou could be pretty modest in the cutest, funniest ways, sometimes, and he almost always went into his own room to take off his clothes, even though he had no problems walking around in just his boxers (they were both boys, right? And Shishido didn't always want to pound him into the bed, right?)

Shishido had asked him, once, why that was. Ootori didn't have an issue trotting around the apartment in his underwear, but wouldn't strip down to his underwear in the same room as Shishido...? Struck him as being more than a little bizarre--sure, he didn't have any problems taking his clothes off when his roommate was around, but then again, most days, now, he knew better than to walk around in his underwear.

It had turned into quite the make-out session that day when Ootori had looked at him over his shoulder, shyly smiling with just the faintest blush, and said, "Anou... well... because changing in front of you... I think I like it when you watch me. Too much."

Which meant that on the rare occasion when his roommate forgot, or something, and those long fingers started casually undoing the button-fly of those too-damned-sexy-for-words jeans that clung to Ootori's hips, or even those sleek black concert pants that poured down those long legs... yeah. Instant hard-ons were painful when he was lying on his stomach on the bed.

Damn. If only Ootori could see himself the way Shishido saw him, sometimes... maybe, sure, Ootori hadn't even known he'd be coming in--he'd just been standing at the door. Or stuck at the door, because he hadn't been able to move, not watching the way Choutarou took off his shirt, letting it fall from his shoulders and hang on his elbows for just a second, framing the sleek, pale abs that all the training had given him--Shishido knew too well what those felt like against his fingers, and it made his hands fist to think what they'd feel like against his tongue.

And then his Choutarou had looked straight into his eyes, with Shishido frozen in the doorframe, frozen until the skin on his arms prickled and raced with electricity that shocked his mind just enough that he hadn't realised until afterwards that his mouth had probably been hanging open wide enough to let his tongue fall out.

Gods. Gods. With his Choutarou's gaze meeting his like that, it'd been all he could do not to go to his knees when Choutarou slipped out of his pants--one leg at a time, meticulous, because Ootori was, and those dark blue boxer-briefs framed slim hips, and outlined everything that was under them when he straightened, just way, way too tight on that slim, too-sexy almost-naked body for Shishido's comfort...

And just as Shishido managed to get a hold of himself--he thought he'd gotten pretty good at it!--those dark mahogany eyes that were such a shock against the silver hair went even darker, and started smiling into his as Ootori's hand skimmed, lightly, along his own belly.

Yeah, Ootori did things that were just not so smart sometimes.

Then again, it had been stupider Shishido who'd backed him up against the side of the bed, hands hard on those hips and mouth tonguing at the little dip right in the middle of that smooth bow of a collarbone, until the back of Ootori's knees hit the mattress and Ootori had fallen backwards onto it with a little laughing cry--

And almost cracked his head against the corner of the side table when he fell.

Almost. So close that Shishido's heart had stopped, he'd actually felt it stop like a stab low and deep in his chest, and he'd clambered onto the bed with half of a mind to panic--all heat and lust and stupidity forgotten in making sure his partner was all right, because he'd definitely heard something that was just not good.

Ootori was okay--he'd twisted, a little, and he'd hit his head against the headboard with a sharp thud, but not the table--but Shishido knew that if he hadn't been pressuring him like that, there wouldn't have even been the chance such a dumb thing would happen.

Those bruises and scrapes he'd gotten from night-time training hadn't even been nearly as painful as knowing that he'd almost gotten Ootori hurt. Getting knocked to the ground by a tennis ball at two hundred kay? Whatever. Almost watching his roommate braining himself on a table--and hitting himself on the heavy wood of their bed because Shishido hadn't had enough control to keep from trying to molest him? Kind of like reaching into his own chest and tearing out his lungs, it'd been so hard to breathe for a second.

Damn, if this was how Ootori had felt, serving right at Shishido, night after night, seeing it knock him down to the ground--damn, it had been bad from his side of the court, but he hadn't realised just how awful it could be from the other side. He needed to hug his roommate more, or something. No-one deserved that.

Shishido had never been patient. Yeah, he knew that. It wasn't like he ever tried to hide it, or anything like that--and even though Ootori put up with him, and Shishido was trying so damned hard to be good... he knew he didn't deserve his partner. Hell, he barely understood why Ootori was still staying with him. He definitely didn't understand why Ootori was staying with him even though Shishido had the Incredibly Bad Habit of molesting him at every turn...

Hell. He'd apologised already, but he'd go out there and apologise again. And maybe Ootori would be okay with some snuggling, or something, tonight. If his head didn't hurt.

Sourly, Shishido shook his head and turned back to the water controls. Well, at least there was one good thing about this happening--he wasn't going to be touching Ootori again for at least awhile. That would give the poor kid some relief--

His eyes snapped open, and he whirled as the shower door swung open with that irritating, grating little creak it always made.

Ootori's eyes were wide and luminous in the white lights, his hair bright, the same colour as his cross when it was wet--Shishido swallowed, hard, as his eyes fell on the little bit of jewelry peeking through the neck of the plush blue terrycloth robe that Ootori wore after he'd just gotten out of the shower, usually. Shishido managed, somehow, to get out a "Choutarou! Can't you see I'm in the shower...!?"

Oh. Right. Like that wasn't obvious.

Like that was going to help the fact that even in the cold water, his body was trying to tell him that oh, yeah, Ootori Choutarou was a hot, sweet thing, even dressed in a bathrobe. Especially dressed in a bathrobe. So much for not wanting to jump his roommate for at least awhile longer--it was a damned good thing Ootori never looked at people's crotches--

Ootori's eyes zipped down, then right back up to Shishido's face, his eyes wide.

Shishido ground his teeth as his face decided to join the internal argument and started flaming bright red. He hated blushing--he really hated blushing--and he wasn't all that fond of having a hard-on in cold water while the only guy he'd ever wanted to make long, slow love to, surrounded by candlelight and a spill of downy pillows--never mind pouncing on him the moment they both got into the bedroom and pounding him into the bed until he was whimpering with pleasure, or maybe screaming, oh yeah screaming would be good--was blinking at him with big, soft chocolate eyes, looking a little shocked, either.

All these mixed signals were really going to kill him.

Soon.

In the end, though, he just shook his head, and gritted out, "Yeah. Problem. I know. Now you know. Can you please get out of here, Choutarou?"

And the gods help him if Ootori ever found out just how much it had taken out of him to say that when all he really wanted was to drag his roommate into the shower and strip him out of that big, fluffy, towelly bathrobe. Which was starting to look kinky as Hell.

Wait, what the Hell was Ootori doing, going into the shower room wearing a bathrobe? Was he completely out of his mind...?! Well, it didn't matter.

He watched Ootori bite his lower lip, bowing his head as he moved out of the shower's doorway, and Shishido closed his eyes so that he wouldn't have to watch him leave. There was a moment of pause, and the whisper of cloth, then the shower door creaked shut--he'd been meaning to get something done about that for awhile--anything not to think about the shock in Ootori's eyes when he'd looked at Shishido's erect cock. He had to have known, didn't he, just how much Shishido wanted him...?

"I... don't think I want to go," Ootori whispered, from way too close.

The first thing Shishido saw when his eyes snapped open was the sleek slide of Ootori's throat moving as his partner swallowed, a nervous gulp--but a throat that wasn't framed by a heavy towel-robe--close enough to touch, just close enough that the spray off the black tile floor of their shower room splashed across his feet. And then, from there, Ootori's hand on his cross--but not grabbing at it, the way he did when he was embarrassed... just touching it, like he had the day they'd first kissed.

Shishido clutched hard at the shower wall and yanked his eyes up to Ootori's face--oh, gods, oh gods, his roommate was nuts, he'd knocked himself stupid on the headboard when he'd fallen, anything to keep his hands from ending up on Ootori's body, where they'd already established his hands didn't belong, and anything to keep himself from looking where his eyes most definitely did not belong--and tried to back away.

Except there wasn't anywhere to go, unless he thought he was going to disappear through the wall--their shower wasn't that big... and looking at the spark deep in those eyes was, if possible, even worse. Shishido clamped his eyes shut. No matter how much he wanted to stare. "Fuck... Choutarou. You don't know what..." he swallowed, tried again, but the image of his boyfriend standing just outside the spray of the water, looking at him like he wanted him, oh gods, was just about burned onto the back of his eyelids.

He'd dreamed of this. A hundred times. A thousand times, standing in the shower with his fingers wrapped around his cock and the water running hot on his skin to hide the way he whispered Ootori's name, imagining hands longer than his own, rougher at the tips with violin and coarse-palmed with tennis, like his. And he'd known it was just not going to happen.

Shishido meant to say something like Ootori didn't know what he was doing, or maybe that Ootori had better get the Hell out of there, but what came out of his mouth sounded terrified, instead, even to his ears--his slipping control an edge in his mouth. Damn it, he hated sounding this scared, but oh, Hell... he opened his eyes. "Out. Now."

This time, the reply was soft, certain. "No."

And Ootori was still nibbling on his lower lip--but then, almost invisibly, a smile tweaked at the corners of his gaze, and Shishido felt himself stare, felt his knees wobble at the... invitation in it, almost. "Wh-what do you think you're doing, Choutarou...?" he whispered; damn it, their shower had definitely felt much, much bigger than this when he'd been standing in it by himself, there had to be a way to get away--"I thought... you..."

Ootori's throat jumped, again, and he shook his head, slowly, reaching out a hand--the water spattering onto it like crystal before he let it fall again. "You've... you're so patient with me, Shishido-san."

At that, Shishido snorted. Okay. Even he knew that wasn't quite true. Sure, he'd never tried to jump him for real, but--"Choutarou, I nearly mauled you into a side table. Y'know, I don't think that's what you call 'patience.'"

Ootori blinked, once, twice, before shaking his head, and through the crackle and splish of water, he sounded... well, almost amused, kind of. "Is that why you're standing in cold water, Shishido-san? I'm all right--haven't you ever hit yourself on the headboard jumping into bed?"

Considering that his roommate had seen him do it--more than once, too, if he tossed himself backwards onto the mattress a little too hard--he knew the answer to that, but...

Okay, now that Ootori put it like that, it sounded... well, really stupid.

Shishido grimaced, and glanced away--anywhere but at Ootori. The fact was, though, it really hadn't seemed right to, well, touch himself knowing that his horniness had almost gotten his roommate knocked silly, and, well... even just thinking 'I'm standing in cold water 'cause looking at you made me too damned horny to deal with it' made him feel like his brain was leaking out his ears--no way in Hell he was saying it.

"Would you mind, maybe, making it a little warmer?" Ootori shifted backwards, just a little away from the splish of the water. "I... ah, I'm not very fond of... ah... cold showers."

Which would have been a damned, damned good reason to keep the cold water running, the one part of Shishido's brain that he'd marked 'Conscience' shrieked--but it looked very much as if Ootori was just going to be standing there until one of them actually did something... and the cold water had begin to run from uncomfortable to numb.

Plus it was frickin' uncomfortable to be standing in a cold shower knowing that Ootori didn't need to take them after they were done making out--wasn't that what that meant?--even though for Shishido it was always either a choice of a really cold shower so he could tuck them both into bed without a hard-on, or a really hot shower so he could just get off.

"I guess you kinda don't need them the way I do," he managed to get out through the brief surge of humiliation, before sighing. "Sorry I'm such a horny bastard, Choutarou."

Ootori... blinked at him--before his eyes widened, and he laughed, a little, to Shishido's shock. Just a little bubble of a laugh, and his cheeks were still all flushed in that cute way he had, but it was so damned normal, like he wasn't standing just inside the shower door. "Shishido-san, that wasn't what I meant. I don't enjoy them--I didn't say... that I didn't... ah, need them."

O-kay. That couldn't... that couldn't possibly mean what Shishido thought it meant. He'd thought--but-- "You're... you're kidding, right?" he blurted, before he could quite stop himself.

Ootori's eyebrows tilted upwards, crinkling at his forehead, and he looked... puzzled, almost. "Shishido-san, did you... did you think I didn't... um, you know?" he was blushing again, still, candy-red as his fingers licked out and tasted the shower's spray again. "It's, ah, easier when I don't have to... to, ah, change the sheets."

...okay, maybe it did mean exactly what Shishido thought it meant.

Well, it wasn't like it wasn't natural--but Hell, he hadn't thought...

No, that wasn't quite right: he'd been trying not to think about it. Having naughty fantasies about Ootori anywhere but in the shower, when he actually lived with Ootori, was just too much damned torture for even Shishido to take most of the time--it was embarrassing enough when he woke up hot, sweaty, gasping, and his roommate beside him, arms around him, blinking sleepily and asking if he'd had a nightmare. Geez. He wasn't sure which would have been more embarrassing--telling Ootori that he had had a nightmare--or telling Ootori that no, the dream had been too damned good to be safe.

There wasn't a chance he'd ever get a moment's sleep if thoughts of his Choutarou touching himself ever managed to root their way into his perverted little brain--his head thrown back and shining with that long, long throat bare and those strong, graceful hands sliding along his length as his lips curved into a slow smile...

"Okay." Damn it. The image was just going to be stuck with him forever. Along with every other fantasy he'd entertained. Damn it. "This conversation's over, Choutarou. Out."

Well, okay, so that was what he meant to say.

Except somewhere between 'okay' and 'over,' Ootori--Shishido could have sworn there'd been a day when someone had called Ootori the most obedient kouhai they'd ever met at Hyotei, but obviously that person hadn't seen that 'most obedient kouhai' when he was really, really determined to do something--tossed that out of the window by reaching into the spray and plucking one of Shishido's clenched fists from his sides, and almost pressing it to his chest, his eyes wide and dark and... resolute.

Anything Shishido'd thought he was going to say died in his mouth under that fire.

Shishido flinched, almost, at the warmth not quite under his hand, at the searing heat of fingers wrapped around his wrist--what he knew to be the slick glide of that incredible smooth, pale skin, even if his hand wasn't touching Ootori's chest.

"Not... not all the way, Shishido-san," Ootori whispered. He looked... he looked nervous, kind of, but... but hopeful. Oh, gods, that hope was going to kill Shishido Ryou far more dead than lust was. "Just... maybe just a little bit? Can we do just a little?"

Just 'a little?' What the Hell did he mean by 'just a little?'

Shishido's tongue flicked over his lips, tasted cold water--it was a nervous gesture, his lips couldn't really be dry if he was standing under the shower, right?--as Ootori let his hand go, and it dropped back to his side, limp.

He didn't know what 'just a little' was, exactly. And he'd put the brakes on himself before. And it was so, so tempting, but... "Choutarou, I don't know if..." he swallowed, and looked away, looked at the way the shower tiles gleamed--it was hard to admit it, and damn it, he'd wanted to be stronger than this, wanted to be able to sit and wait and just plain smile 'till Ootori was just perfectly ready, but... "I don't know. D'you understand?"

I know I said I'd wait for you. I said I'd wait, but... but I don't know if you can tell me to go ahead and then make me stop again...and now that you're here with me, and you want more...and I know you want me, too, I can see it in your eyes...it was easier to stop when I could pretend you didn't, Choutarou.

In the reflection in the tile--just a blur, a long blur of silvery skin, he saw Ootori nod--and when he turned back to him, his Choutarou was smiling at him, gently, with his head cocked just a little sideways, and his fingertips on his cross. "I trust you, Shishido-san."

That trust was going to break him, one day. Or both of them. "You're too trusting for your own damned good," Shishido muttered, instead--but he couldn't look away from those eyes. "Why... I don't get you--"

But then his fingers moved backwards, like they couldn't stop themselves, and turned the dial on the water knob to just short of hot--and this time, when Ootori reached for Shishido's hand, Shishido raised it himself, and placed his fingertips--carefully, he felt like maybe he'd break, like everything was just going to shatter like a dream if he touched his boyfriend like this--on that chest... but then his palm followed his fingertips like every part of him just wanted to touch that silk-smooth skin, pressed just over his roommate's heart, and Ootori's pulse was a flutter against his fingertips, so real it caught his breath. He'd touched Ootori's chest before, sure. That wasn't anything... anything weird. But this was different. It shouldn't have been different, but damned, it was.

"Mmmh," Shishido watched, eyes wide, as Ootori's tongue traced slowly over his lips with his sigh, before he looked down at Shishido with a faint, wondering smile, real and surprised. "Your hands are cold."

Well, yeah, he'd been standing with the shower set to 'freezing' for the past ten minutes, but... he stepped a little closer, seduced by the quiet tremor in that voice, and pressed his lips just under Ootori's shoulder. "Yeah," he murmured, shivering more with the heat of Ootori trembling under that little touch than the hot shower spray against his chilled body. "You're nice and warm, though. Hope it's not too bad..."

Ootori purred. Gods, he actually purred, a soft rumble from low in his throat, like an echo, almost, lips just a little pursed. "Kimochi iisu yo," he whispered, and the echoes of it danced like the sound of water against the tile, or maybe that was just the way him telling Shishido it felt good echoed in his head, down his spine, drugging, he hadn't even touched Ootori yet. Damn. Damn, but he wanted to hear more of that. "Please?"

Gods. He didn't know what Ootori was asking for from him--not exactly. But his hand slid to Ootori's waist, and his Choutarou's skin was hot and smooth and the trails of water that his hands left on that chest shone like the world's quiet after a rainstorm... it didn't take much for Shishido to decide that whatever it was, whatever his Choutarou wanted... he'd give it to him.

He felt the faint quake of a shiver underneath his fingers when he pulled Ootori with him under the spray, his roommate's body tensing under his hand for a moment as he turned his face up to the water and it trickled against his skin in a shining curtain--and Shishido felt, all along his body, the way a shiver worked its way down Ootori's spine when Shishido pulled them that last invisible distance together and sucked the patterns of falling water, tasting just a little of sweat and a little of sleep, from just over Ootori's cross.

Oh, damn. Oh, damn, even if Shishido'd been sure, it was so different to feel it--his Choutarou most definitely was stark buck naked, nothing but sleek skin brushed with water, and Shishido heard himself whimper--damn it, that kind of noise was not coming from him--when Ootori murmured, "Oh..." and took the last step towards Shishido himself.

Shishido's breath hissed from his throat--he didn't dare breathe, because if he did, maybe this lightheadedness would go away and maybe Ootori would disappear... except when he finally sucked in a breath, the world was still shivering around him and Ootori was still there, pressed up him chest to chest and one of Ootori's thighs between his or maybe one of his between his Choutarou's, intertwined so there really wasn't any way that they could get closer--and something that was definitely very male and most definitely very hard pressed a searing column up the chilled line of Shishido's belly.

Holygods.

He couldn't quite believe this was happening. Skin against skin--he hadn't even really dared imagine what it would feel like, they hadn't even slept shirtless together yet--on nights when it was just too hot to wear a shirt, it was way too hot to have two people sharing a double, and they both slept in their own separate beds... but Shishido closed his eyes and bowed his head just a little, that was all that it took with his mouth moving in long, slow suckles just at the base of his boyfriend's neck.

Why the Hell was it so easy, all of a sudden, to do this so slowly? That terrible, tearing hunger, maybe, was quieter against the way the water pattered on Ootori's skin and slicked his hair down until it was almost, but not quite, pewter, not silver. Brighter than both.

Maybe it was the way that Ootori made a little mewling sound--and when his hips rocked, just the tiniest little push, Shishido sucked in a breath that felt as raw as the little bite he pressed to the soft tug of skin just there, just where the metal chain of that cross brushed his lips. "Damn. Choutarou," he heard himself growl, "Lemme look at you..."

Ootori tensed, a bit, and Shishido waited for the refusal--it'd be okay, really--before Ootori took a step backwards, and whispered, voice soft and hoarse, "If... if you want to..."

Shishido Ryou didn't much believe in miracles, but he was pretty sure he most definitely hadn't done enough good in his life to deserve whatever what was going on in their shower, and what else was a miracle, right. He wasn't much inclined towards imagery, or anything like that--but looking at Ootori Choutarou dripping with water with his chin tilted up like that and baring his neck, his hair slick to his face and forehead, cool and clean as the clouds on a spring morning, and against that contrast, his eyes looked lighter than normal, bronze maybe... oh, man. Heaven. Oh, yeah, heaven.

Shishido licked his lips again as he looked into Ootori's eyes one last time... and then let his eyes slide downwards, steadying himself against the shower wall with one hand.

It wasn't like he'd never seen Ootori naked before, or anything. They were on the same tennis team--and Shishido wasn't a pervert, he didn't look, (at least, not when he wasn't supposed to) but sometimes when he turned around after his shower, Ootori was still under the water (Shishido hadn't ever really been sure how that happened, 'cause it'd happened even when he'd had long hair, but Ootori liked his long showers) and the strong, sleek wet line of his back that heaved as he breathed, deep, that tight little butt over those incredible, long legs...

Oh, yeah, his Choutarou was something to look at from behind, all right.

But his Choutarou, all slicked with water running mouth-watering trails down his shoulders, his arms, chest--abs which Shishido's fingers tingled to touch, those were familiar, those tan lines he knew so damned well, the sleek slide of his waist, but then lower...

He'd felt the print of it--through jeans, and sometimes, even the thin shorts that Ootori wore to sleep. And sure, it was a natural reaction, and all that--but his breath still whispered from him in something that sounded a lot like a hiss when he... oh, damn, Ootori was as hard as he was. Oh. Damn. Shishido's tongue strayed over his lips, and he swallowed, jerking his eyes up to Ootori's face again to take in the heat in those eyes--oh, man, just to be able to look at Ootori and know that, well, they both wanted each other...

Shishido blinked as Ootori's hands slipped down to cover himself.

And when he looked inquiringly back up at that face, his Choutarou was blushing furiously, cheeks hot and mouth parted, those eyes wide and so damned earnest. "It's... it's embarrassing, Shishido-san. When you look..."

Shishido blinked again, once, twice, before chuckling--a little wryly.

Nope--his Choutarou was just plain never going to change. Probably he'd have been grabbing his cross, too, if, well, he hadn't been using both hands to cover himself.

"Think how I felt when you walked into here wearing a bathrobe, and me with a hard-on," Shishido chuckled, dryly, reaching out to pull his roommate into the shower spray again and tilting his face up to kiss his boyfriend's chin. And then the patch of blush that'd crept down onto his collarbone, too, for good measure. Ootori really was a funny kid sometimes, all right, but... he wouldn't have had him any other way. "A'course, I never expected you to be looking, but hey, just goes to show you still surprise me all the time, huh? "

"Shishido-san!" it was almost a yelp, and Ootori's shoulders hunched as he blushed again, and Shishido wasn't going to bet that the red creeping down his koi's neck was from the heat of the shower. "I... I wasn't..." and, as Shishido just raised an eyebrow--hey, they both knew that his Choutarou had definitely looked--his Choutarou blushed, and let the hands fall away from between their bodies.

  Shishido just laughed, a little, and pulled him down for a kiss, just a quick one, wet and tasting a little like shyness. "S'okay," he grinned, and he could feel a growl rumbling up his throat, warm and smooth as Ootori's mouth when the shyness melted away and oh, yeah, there was that certainty he'd gotten so used to, the way that his Choutarou liked to nibble on his bottom lip, oh mmm...

  Shishido's breath hissed from him, and he heard himself gasp, when Ootori nudged forward a little and that cock pressed hot against the cold, straining line of his stomach--damn, Ootori was tall. Too tall for them to rock hips together, but still, even just nudging up against his thigh, just all this contact, slick and hot with water, felt so damned good...  "You've got no clue how good it feels when you look at me like that, do you?" he murmured--or, well, tried, because wasn't this supposed to be romantic and... stuff? And damn it, he still sounded like he was growling, a little... "Knowing... knowing you're hard, and feeling your cock up against my belly like this...?"

  Oooh. He hadn't thought about it, but... but considering the way Ootori's mouth fell open against his, gasping, and Shishido hadn't even laid a hand on him, not really... Shishido grinned again. Oh, his Choutarou liked words, did he...? Yeah, he was definitely learning new things about Ootori Choutarou that wouldn't have even thought possible a couple of months ago. "Damn... d'you like a little dirty talk, hmmm, Choutarou...?" he purred--okay, yeah, that was definitely a growl--against the very base of that wet, sweetly straining neck as Ootori made a little desperate sound and canted his head back.

Whoops, he'd made him blush again, Ootori's eyes were wide and dark, chocolate swallowed by bittersweet, maybe, but... oh, man, hot bittersweet, melted as he chewed on his lower lip, flash of white against pressed pink.

Poor guy, he really did look like he didn't have a clue whether or not it was the right thing to nod or not...

Shishido grinned--damn, he was just too damned cute sometimes. He wasn't ever going to pressure his Choutarou to sleep with him, but... well, he'd said 'a little,' right, and Shishido'd always wanted to... to... well, couldn't hurt to ask, could it? Since he was here already?

"You know, I'd be happy, just with this," Shishido's hands smoothed up the firm bow of his boyfriend's back, the tiny little dip of his spine, the way wet skin became damp skin when his fingers trailed across it and clung, "but when I think about what it'd feel like if I reached down between us and just took you in my hand, with all this water pouring over us... damn, you make me hot, Choutarou."

Ootori's cock twitched, up against his belly, and he made a little noise in his throat, eyes turning up and away, that was just short of... oh, man, his Choutarou whimpered. Oh, man.

Daring, and maybe Ootori would push him away--and maybe he'd say stop, but for now, the sharp edges of Shishido's hunger were dulled, purring almost with proximity--no, wait, maybe that was just him purring, and the sound cut under the sharp sound of water hitting tile, water on skin. Shishido reached down, fumbled--fingers against the smooth, slick rounds of Ootori's abs--and when his palm brushed the head of Ootori's cock, surprisingly soft skin stretched just like that over tremblingly hard heat--he didn't know why it surprised him, it wasn't really any different from his, but it did--Ootori gasped. "Shishido-san...!"

But he hadn't said 'Stop.'

"Yeah?" his voice was a cracked, hoarse-like whisper--and slid his hand a little lower, trickling, wet fingers, and gods it was amazing how the water made everything soft and blurred, even better when his Choutarou's cock was heavy and slick cupped in his hand--just how long had he just been dying to touch him like this...? "Just say when, Choutarou. If you want me to stop. You know that."

Oh, gods. Ootori didn't say 'when.' He said "Oh," and canted his head back until his neck was bare and running with water diamonds, and really he should have known better because all those times when Shishido had his mouth on that neck and had wanted to straddle Ootori's hips, or, say, peel him out of his pants just to see what he looked like when he moaned, just... focused, one brief flashbang moment that left him blind, hungry, his hand moving across Ootori's water-slick length as he fastened his lips onto the base of that throat and heard his boyfriend keen, the sound reverberating across the shallow walls, louder than the water, thrumming against his mouth as he sucked.

He hadn't tagged Ootori for being loud, but maybe that was just because he was never going to be able to shake loose the memory of those little noises that Ootori was making, something that wasn't quite a mewl when Shishido tightened his loose grip just a little, a slow stroke up, mmm, oh yeah, his Choutarou was even sexier like this, tremblingly nervous, wet silk over velvet steel in Shishido's hand, and a sound just short of a sob building somewhere low in that smooth chest. "Mmm. Yeah, Choutarou," Shishido murmured, and his grin felt a little tight around the edges, but so good--so damned good. "You like it... slow...? Like it when I touch you like... this...?" his fingertips strayed over the head of Ootori's cock,

The sound that came from Ootori's lips was something like a whimper and Shishido watched, mesmerised, as he squeezed his eyes shut, tight, lashes gathering the droplets of water until he sparkled and cried with the shower. "Shishido-san... oh..." his hips rocked, just a little, and damn, he was shaking...

Shishido half-closed his eyes. There was no way that he could look at Ootori full-on without going crazy, or something, because even just the feel of Ootori's cock, sleek and wet against his hand as he ran a fingertip over the head of him again, and holy shit, that wasn't water, and Shishido bit his lip, breathed deep, breathed his roommate as Ootori made a little choked noise at a light, light stroke. He liked it slow? Shishido could definitely do slow. For a little bit, until wanting to find out what it sounded like when Ootori moaned, not just whimpered, got to be too much, anyway. "Can I make you come, Choutarou?" he purred, and the sound of his voice was louder than the blood pounding behind his ears. "Is that okay?"

And why was it that the words sounded so naughty--okay, yeah, they were naughty, but they weren't... dirty. Kind of. Okay, yeah they were. Okay, yeah, so he wasn't really thinking terribly clearly, but Hell, who cared?

Still, though, this was...  as different as touching Ootori's chest when his boyfriend was walking around topless, and following droplets of water down his Choutarou's abs with his fingertips. Maybe because it was Ootori, and he was just as beautiful like this, just as... as pure, sappy as it was, with his head arched back and the shower water running clear as a breath of fresh air down his face, even as Shishido mouthed at his throat and tasted water and skin, sweet and salt. "Shishido-san," Ootori's voice made his throat tremble against Shishido's lips, and Shishido nipped down just hard enough to make that little moan trail into a gasp, grinning. Seriously--his roommate probably shouldn't have told him that he liked being bitten. "But... what about... what about... I think..."

"Stop thinking, Choutarou," he tightened his grip just a little more, the way he liked it himself--felt his fingers catch just a little more on that slick, smooth skin and grinned when Ootori whimpered--oh, yeah, that sounded a lot like his name. "You know it was a really bad idea to walk into here, right?"

He watched--gods, gods his Choutarou was so beautiful it stopped Shishido's heart sometimes--as his roommate shuddered, leaning out to plant a hand on the wall. "I... it..." his chest heaved, once, hard, before he opened his eyes--damn, what those eyes looked like clouded with water and heat... gods, he wasn't ever going to forget the way they were wide and sleek as dusk--but then his Choutarou smiled down at him, just the tiniest curve of those lips that Shishido had tasted so many, many times. Dear merciful gods, maybe it was a good thing he wasn't tall enough to rock against Ootori's belly while he was doing this for him--with what that little smile did to him, he'd have come on the spot. "But... but wow... you're so... you're so good at this, Shishido-san..."

He laughed because he could--because, Hell, partially because it was kind of funny, and partly because if he didn't laugh, he was going to tell Ootori to bend over and put his hands on the wall so Shishido could find out what made him scream, not just moan. Thank the gods they didn't have any lube in the apartment. That would have seriously been pushing both of their luck. Or something. "Yeah, well... different model, same parts, right...?" he murmured against that slick, wet collarbone, grinning--it was probably a good thing Ootori had his eyes closed again, because Shishido was pretty sure his grin was so wide it probably could have scared someone. He wasn't an egomaniac, or anything, but hearing Ootori telling him that he was making him feel good... "You want me to make you come, Choutarou?"

Oh, geez, he hadn't really said that anywhere but in his head, right?

Though, frankly, he wasn't too sure his head could deal with his koi actually saying it if he did want it... not to mention Choutarou would just about be embarrased out of his skin if Shishido ever asked, right, so maybe a question like that could wait a little while...?

One of Ootori's eyes cracked open--just a hint, just a flash of chocolate--and uh-oh. Uh-oh, Ootori was smiling, oh, geez maybe he had said it aloud... "Please...? I want you... so much, Shishido-san..." and then there was crimson rising to his cheeks like sunrise on snow when he murmured, "Please, Shishido-san? Please make me come?"

Oh. Bloody. Hell. He couldn't breathe.

Yeah he could deal with that--every night, if he had to, even if it meant he'd never sleep again...

It wasn't gentle--it wasn't slow, not the way Ootori's soft sobbing breath echoed inside his head and the way those hips rocked pushed Shishido's fingers further down him, faster--and when Shishido ran his thumb through Choutarou's slit, trailing his calluses down the shallow ridge that separated soft head from slick shaft, he just had to tiptoe to taste the way his boyfriend was making those tiny, shy little noises that throbbed low in that long, arched throat and did what were just about the most wonderful, bad things to Shishido's imagination.

The spray was like tears on his Choutarou's face when Shishido lowered himself from a now-shaky tiptoe to bite down on Ootori's shoulder, growling softly as his roommate gasped, or choked, too sharp a sound for mere breath--and finally his Choutarou arched against him, clutching with those strong, callused hands onto his shoulders until Shishido felt that maybe his boyfriend would break--or maybe Shishido would, just shatter into little pieces even if Ootori hadn't laid a hand on him, because, oh gods, his boyfriend was moaning loudly enough for it to echo against the dark tile as he came, throbbing in Shishido's hand like the fluttering of the pulse in that long throat against Shishido's lips.

Shishido rolled his Choutarou's heartbeat in his mouth like a piece of candy, tasting, nipping, hanging on for dear life and dearer sanity when his roommate spilled over his hand, warmer than the water, sleeker and slippery on Shishido's fingers and his belly before the shower stroked it away, and even if he'd wanted to watch Ootori coming (and he didn't, not really; the sight of a cock wasn't all that new,) he couldn't have torn his gaze away from the way his roommate's caramel eyes went dark with pupil, glazed sleek, and Ootori's kiss-bitten mouth (had he done that?) fell open on his name, curved upwards at just the edges in just the smallest, smallest little smile.

Gods. Oh, Hell, gods, he'd just brought off his roommate, oh Hell yeah.

Nothing in this world had ever felt this good.

Ootori flopped onto Shishido's shoulders with those long arms around him, eyes just a little weak as he panted hard enough that Shishido could feel it against his temple, and his Choutarou's breath was like sobs, the warmth of that long, sleek body like a blanket of wet and skin as he murmured, over and over, "Shishido-san..."

"You're crazy, you know that?" Shishido grinned, one hand stroking down Ootori's wet back, soothing, even though he felt a lot like the sound of his boyfriend moaning his name had just about driven out anything that even looked like common sense in his head. Maybe that was why he could just... just stand here, and pet him like this, 'cause maybe the smell of that skin, the feel of him, the way he'd liked it when Shishido had touched him... damn, it was so sweet it couldn't even be real, sweeter than the spray trickling down Shishido's face. It really was taking all that he had not to go to his watery knees, because... because oh, damned, the sight of his koi's lips tightening at the corners, smiling when he'd come, had to have been the sexiest thing imaginable. "I can't believe you let me do that."

Hell, he couldn't quite believe his roommate had stepped into the shower with him in the first place, and he sure as anything hadn't expected an affirmative when he'd asked if he could make his Choutarou come... maybe his brain was broken from hearing his roommate say the words, and he wasn't ever going to forget the way they sounded, not when they were damned well seared into his ears... so, okay, maybe Ootori wasn't the only one with a thing for a little bit of dirty talk.

Shishido's entire body jerked in sudden reaction and he gasped, eyes flying open as a fingertip rough-callused with violin ran, tentatively, up his length.

It took just about every inch of control that he had in his body and probably a good foot of it stolen from Choutarou to reach down and grab his Choutarou's wrist before his roommate wrapped that long, trembling hand around him. And not just because he had the sneaking suspicion that Ootori could make him come just by wrapping his fingers around him, and wouldn't that just be too damned embarrassing for words?

Shishido looked his Choutarou in the eye--those eyes were sleepier, now, hazier, and his mouth was so temptingly soft, parted like that... except that kissable, kissable mouth was trembling. "Is this something you're okay with?" he asked, seriously. "Something you want?"

Ootori blinked, once, twice, his lips moving slowly, like he tasted the thought--before he nodded and straightened, but his eyes slid away and into the wall, and his other hand twitched upwards as if to reach for his cross before he jerked it back down to his side. "Shishido-san..." he whispered, "I don't even think I know what I want. Until you show me."

Shishido's mouth curled into a slow, appreciative grin. Yeah, he knew what that meant. Maybe the answer would've been different if he'd given Choutarou the chance to reach for him, first, but, well... yeah, for him, sense set in after he'd stopped being horny as Hell, and there really wasn't any reason for his roommate to be different, right? No point to freaking out about it now--not when the print of that skin was still on his fingertips, and his roommate was trembling. After all this time, Ootori was still quite possibly the worst liar he'd ever seen--even when he wasn't saying anything at all.

"C'mon, out." He let go of Ootori's hand, hoping to whatever God that his boyfriend believed in that Ootori wasn't going to try to reach for him again, because seriously, he wasn't even a little sure that he could tell his Choutarou 'no' twice, not when he was as horny as he was. "I need to finish my shower."

But yeah, this grin wasn't going to be coming off his lips anytime soon. Yeah, sure, he was a little disappointed, but... whatever, he'd count his blessings tonight and still come out with a tally a hell of a lot higher than he had the day before. He didn't want his Choutarou doing something he wasn't too comfortable with because he felt he had to. And then, one day, if he did want to try it... oh, yeah, Shishido would be waiting for him.

That gaze snapped back to his, wide and earnest, maybe just a little desperate. "But--but that's not fair to you--"

Shishido just laughed, "You crazy? Sure it is," and reached out to cup his Choutarou's face between his hands. Fairness? Silly. The rules were just a little different from tennis, though his Choutarou had better watch out the next time he took off his shirt like that... "You said you don't know what you want? That's okay, Choutarou. Seriously. I sure as Hell got what I wanted." Shishido shook his head, incredulous. "Damn, the look on your face when you came..."

And if this particular memory kept him awake and hard all through the night, Hell, it'd sure been worth it. Worth any number of sleepless nights.

Ooops. Choutarou was blushing again. Like, really blushing. Like, grabbing-cross-blushing, and Shishido chuckled again and pulled him close for one last long, slow kiss, that hand that was clutching at the necklace at his roommate's chest dropping slowly to wrap around Shishido's waist--yeah, this was the way things were supposed to be, Ootori's mouth stroking against his like that, moving in long slow laps because Ootori liked to kiss slowly, with his eyes closed and the tip of his tongue so shy--before letting him go. "You're so damned sexy it hurts, Choutarou," he purred, but there was laughter there, too--if he hadn't been warm from his shower still, he was pretty sure he'd have felt Ootori's chest go hot from just how hard he was blushing. Damn. Damn, he couldn't get any cuter. "C'mon. Shoo. Out. If you stand there any longer, you're gonna get cold." And if you don't go away before the high of getting you off wears off, it's going to get way, way too hot in here...

He took it as a good sign that he could still think that.

Ootori took one step away, then stopped, looking over his shoulder.

Shishido let himself hope for just one second before he started being very damned glad that the hot water was running out.

"Shishido-san...?" his Choutarou's fingers were rough, and a little shaky, on his cheek before they dropped away again, and there was puzzlement in those warm eyes. "Why do you always look at me like that...?"

"Like what?" well, Shishido was good at control, and he'd probably gotten better at it the past couple of months, but there was no way he was good enough not to look at Ootori naked. He was only human. Plus Choutarou was, geez, crazy-beautiful.

"Like... like, I don't know," yeah, okay, it was just too insanely cute when his roommate fidgeted like that. "Like you're... hungry."

Oh. That.

Apparently, Ootori didn't quite get it yet, did he...?

"'Cause I want to eat you," he grinned at the wide-eyed look that bloomed on Ootori's face, his grin widening as that smooth, fine jaw sagged. "Just lick you up and suck you down." He flashed a wink up at that warm face, getting warmer as Ootori's cheeks apparently got what he was talking about, even if Ootori's mind didn't. "Rawr."

Ootori closed his mouth--it'd literally fallen open, and Shishido didn't think he'd ever seen anyone's eyes get that wide--but then he was laughing, "You're so silly, Shishido-san!" and Shishido was laughing, too, as he shooed his roommate out of the shower.

And snuck in one pat on that tight, sweet little butt that made Ootori yelp and jump for the bath mat.

Yeah, sure, he was still hard--harder than he'd ever been in his life, seriously!--but... for once, Hell, maybe it just didn't matter.

Shishido grinned, and turned his face up into the now-lukewarm spray as he reached for the soap.

Maybe he'd let Ootori go on thinking that he'd been kidding for just a little longer.

The End

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