The Biggest Mistake of My Life
by Miko no da

Part 1


The cheer rang loud in Shishido's ears, and they downed their drinks simultaneously. Shishido wasn't even sure what his was; something with tequila in it, from the way it burned going down, but that was all he knew. Mukahi had started getting creative with the drink orders several rounds ago.

To his right Ohtori was trying hard not to choke on the mouthful of liquor he'd just taken as he snickered at something Mukahi had said. They were all more than a little drunk, but their youngest companion was well and truly smashed. As he should be - it was his party, after all.

Grabbing another shooter from a passing waitress, Shishido just held it for a moment, watching his long-time best friend and doubles partner. I can't believe he's getting married in just a few days, he thought, shaking his head as he downed the new drink. Even after the months of frantic preparation for the wedding, it still didn't feel real. He didn't think it would seem real until after Ohtori walked away down the aisle with his new bride, and maybe not even then.

"Who'd have thought you'd be the first of us to get married, Ohtori?" Jirou said, glomping his taller friend from behind. Ohtori swayed and nearly went over, but Shishido was still sober enough to be able to catch his partner before he and Jirou both fell.

"Trust me, it's kind of shocking to me too, Jirou," Ohtori murmured, still laughing as he leaned against Shishido without seeming to realize what was holding him up. He'd dropped the honourifics years ago, at least - probably a good thing at the moment considering how carefully he was talking to avoid tangling the words.

"You are totally wasted, Choutarou," Shishido informed his partner with a small smirk. Ohtori blinked at him, brown eyes looking almost black in the dim light of the bar.

"Of course I am," the younger man said almost indignantly. "You've all been pouring alcohol into me for hours now. Even Kabaji is getting tipsy, and I don't have as much body mass as he does!"

"Kabaji can handle his alcohol, right Kabaji?" Atobe declared. The responding 'usu' was a little garbled, but he apparently deemed it acceptable for he continued, "And you're supposed to be drunk, Ohtori. It's your stag party. Your traditional last night of freedom and excess."

"Yeah, because our Ohtori is so known for his vices and frequent excesses," Mukahi snarked, grinning at the taller boy. "I mean, c'mon, marriage is practically going to be a death sentence for him! No more late nights, no more drinking, no more women..."

"You're confusing 'Ohtori' with 'Oshitari', Gakuto," Shishido cut him off. He rolled his eyes at the redhead and shifted so his partner was leaning against the table instead of him. Not that he minded having Ohtori plastered against him, even with Jirou in the mix. But the younger man was heavy, and still taller than him by a good half a foot.

"It will be a very long time before I'm willing to tie myself down," Oshitari confirmed, smirking at them both. "Though I must admit, I expected Atobe to be the first of us to head down the aisle. Duty to produce an heir to the fortune and all that."

"There will be plenty of time for that after I win a few more titles," the tennis pro replied loftily. "After all, it will take me quite a while to sort through all of my adoring fans to find the one woman who could possibly measure up to my wonderful self."

"Some things never change," Ohtori snickered, laughing hard enough to almost jostle Jirou right off of him. At least their resident narcoleptic was awake for once, too excited by the party to fall asleep.

"And that sounds like another toast to me," Atobe declared, summoning a waitress with an imperious snap of his fingers.

"Oh, not another one," Ohtori complained, but he reached for one of the shot glasses. He'd turned out to be a rather happy and compliant drunk, something that made Shishido wish he'd gotten his partner drunk more often. But Ohtori wasn't much for alcohol, tonight being the exception that proved the rule.

Once they all had their new glasses, Atobe lifted his high. "To things that never change, even in the face of one of the greatest changes in life. Kanpai!"

"Kanpai!" they all echoed, and down went yet another shot. Shishido set his empty glass aside and settled into one of the barstools. Mukahi and Jirou were now coaxing Ohtori out onto the dance floor, and he didn't want to be dragged into it. He couldn't take his eyes off his partner; Ohtori was laughing and staggering, but clearly having the time of his life.

In true bachelor party style, they'd done their level best to humiliate their youngest friend all day. They'd dressed him up in the most ridiculous get-up Shishido had ever seen, then dragged him out to play tennis on the street courts. It had been a hell of a spectacle, but Ohtori had held his own and taken the good-natured teasing as it was meant.

It was actually Ohtori's second stag party; the first had been thrown by his friends among the law students and university tennis team last weekend. There'd been quite a few more people, but Shishido and Jirou had been the only members of the former Hyoutei team that could make that party. The others still hadn't flown in for the wedding yet, since they were coming from all over the place. Hiyoshi wouldn't even be here until the morning of the big day.

When he'd realized they'd missed the party, Mukahi had insisted on throwing another just for the group of them. Ohtori had complained that it wasn't fair of them to put him through that kind of embarrassment twice, but had gone along with it when Mukahi had pouted at him.

"Hey Ohtori, how come I don't get to be in the wedding party?" Mukahi was demanding now. Alcohol made him petulant, which was setting Shishido's teeth on edge. Or maybe that was just the reminder of the upcoming nuptials; his stomach roiled every time he let himself think about how close the wedding was.

"Because if I'd asked all of you, the wedding would have ended up even more ridiculously huge than it already is," Ohtori explained patiently for at least the fifth time. "And there wouldn't have been enough bridesmaids. So I asked Atobe because he was the captain, and Shishido because, well... of course he's going to be my best man."

Of course I am, Shishido mocked himself silently, watching them dance as he nursed a larger version of whatever had been in that earlier tequila shot. Ohtori's 'dancing' was more of a drunken stumble, but then at this point Mukahi was only marginally more coordinated. He hadn't drunk as much as Ohtori, but he also had a lot less mass. Shishido's eyes tracked Ohtori unfailingly, watching every move his partner made like it might be his last chance to ever see the younger man.

He felt like it would be. In just a few days he was going to stand beside Ohtori and give him away to his new bride... and destroy his own heart in the process. He'd thought he could handle it, really he had. It wasn't like he hadn't known this day was coming eventually, and he'd thought he'd resigned himself to it. But the reality of it was hitting him in the face much sooner than he'd ever expected, and it was hurting a lot more to let go than he'd thought it would.

Shishido had been in love with his partner pretty much from the moment Ohtori had rejoined him on the courts in high school. Maybe even before that. He still remembered the moment he'd seen that tall head of silver over the rest of the crowd of freshman, remembered the joyful smile Ohtori had given him when he'd spotted Shishido in turn.

They'd been nearly inseparable from that moment on, just as they had been in junior high. Except unlike the innocence of their friendship then, Shishido had found himself drawn to his friend and partner in ways that were highly inappropriate.

He'd fought it down and shoved it away until he could mostly ignore it. He'd been unwilling to destroy the most important thing in his life for the sake of his hormones. Sometimes it would sneak up on him; he'd be watching Ohtori laugh at something, or his partner would give him that special smile he seemed to reserve for Shishido alone, and the ache of longing would nearly consume him.

But he'd hidden it for so long and so well that Ohtori had never suspected a thing. So much so, that the younger boy hadn't even hesitated to ask his best friend to stand up for him at his wedding, not having any idea of the torture he was planning to put Shishido through.

The worst of it was, it wasn't even like he'd had any warning. Ohtori had never dated at all, though Shishido had gone through a few girlfriends in an attempt to get over his friend. The younger boy had always laughingly said that between his tennis, his music, his studies, and his close friendship with Shishido, he wasn't willing to give up enough time from any of them to actually go out with anyone.

Maybe if he'd had months of Ohtori dating to get used to the idea of losing him, Shishido would have been more prepared. But what most of the others didn't know was that this wasn't any sort of love match; concerned at their only son's continued solitary nature, Ohtori's parents had arranged an omiai, a contract marriage with the daughter of another lawyer who worked with Ohtori's father.

I mean, really, who in this day and age gets into an arranged marriage? Shishido took another big gulp of his drink. Oh, it was still more common than a lot of people realized. He'd always sort of expected something like that from Atobe, maybe, who had a huge fortune and family reputation to protect. But not from Ohtori. Not from his sweet, loving Choutarou, the original soft-hearted romantic. How could his friend bear to chain himself to a woman he barely knew? And how could he ask Shishido to help him throw the rest of his life away like that?

"It's what he wants," he reminded himself, scowling into his drink. "He's happy, so you damn well better be happy for him." At least long enough to get through the ceremony. He wouldn't embarrass his partner by breaking down on him and ruining his big day. But after that, he thought it might be a while before he'd be able to spend time with his friend again without it feeling like the pain was going to crush him.

"Talking to yourself?" Ohtori asked as he staggered up and flopped down into the seat next to him. "Not like you not to just speak your mind, Shishido."

"I think I lost my internal monologue somewhere around the last couple toasts," Shishido admitted with a sigh. "Sorry, Choutarou. I seem to be turning into a melancholy drunk tonight. No reason to spoil your fun, you should go dance some more."

"Ugh." Ohtori looked distinctly green at the suggestion. "If I dance any more I'm going to be sick. And I think I've made enough of an idiot of myself for one day."

"I dunno, I thought you looked kinda cute out there," Shishido replied before his internal censors caught up with his mouth. He blushed, grateful it would probably just look like an alcohol flush.

"That's because you're almost as drunk as I am," Ohtori snickered. He crossed his arms on the bar and laid his head down on them, turned so he was still facing Shishido. He looked adorable, sleepy and tousled and sweaty from dancing. It was all Shishido could do to keep from kissing him, right in front of everyone.

He looked away, scowling at his drink again as he fought the surge of desire. His palms were sweating, and he wiped them on his pants as he cursed himself and his wayward hormones. He wasn't a teenager any more, he should have better control over himself than this! He'd certainly had enough practice at denying this particular desire.

The next thing he knew there was a line of warmth along his back as another body pressed up against his. He nearly jumped when Ohtori draped his arms over Shishido's shoulders and rested his chin on the top of Shishido's head. When the hell had the younger man gotten up and staggered across the two feet between them, anyway? "Choutarou?"

"You're cute when you scowl like that," Ohtori informed him, and he could hear the grin in his partner's voice. Shishido swallowed, mouth suddenly dry despite how much he'd drunk. I will not turn and kiss him, I will NOT turn and... "Take me home, please?"

"Take you... what?" For one wild instant, Shishido's muddled brain thought Ohtori was propositioning him. Gods knew he'd fantasized about exactly that often enough. He wondered when he'd passed out and started dreaming.

Then Ohtori shattered the fantasy by clarifying, "I don't think I can even get to the door by myself in this state, let alone home. Take me home, Shishido? If I have any more to drink I'm still going to be drunk at the rehearsal tomorrow night."

"What makes you think I'm any more capable of getting you home than you are?" Shishido asked him wryly, gesturing at his half-finished drink. "I may not be as bombed as you, Choutarou, but I'm not exactly steady on my feet." At least Atobe had stated his intention to pay for cabs for all of them at the outset; he shuddered to think of any of them trying to stagger their way home on public transit in this state.

Leaning over far enough for Shishido to see him, Ohtori gave him that pleading look. The one with the wide brown puppy eyes that, if he only knew it, gave him complete and utter control over his partner. Shishido had never been able to deny the younger man anything when he looked like that, and this was no exception.

"Oh, fine, all right, I'll take you home," he capitulated with ill grace but a touch of humour. "Otherwise we'll probably find you passed out on the floor of the hallway outside your apartment tomorrow morning."

"Probably," Ohtori admitted cheerfully, the pleading look instantly transformed to a brilliant smile when Shishido agreed. Shishido's heart lurched again, then thudded painfully against his ribcage. Damn that smile anyway. A man about to get married shouldn't be smiling like that at anyone but his soon-to-be wife.

"C'mon," Shishido grunted, shoving himself upright and catching Ohtori's arm over his shoulder as he did so. Otherwise the younger man would have gone head over heels, thrown off balance by his inebriation and the sudden movement.

"We're off," he announced to the group at large, and got a chorus of catcalls and booing in response. "Hey guys, seriously. Look at him, he can't even stand on his own any more." Indeed Ohtori was draped over Shishido's shoulder much the way Jirou frequently did to other people when he was mostly asleep. It was comical considering Ohtori was still much taller than he was, but the warm line of athletic body pressed up against him was anything but unpleasant.

"Perhaps it is time to think about calling it a night," Atobe finally overrode the various objections, glancing at his watch. "They'll be closing the bar shortly. There are already cabs waiting outside, Shishido, feel free to make use of them. And make sure you get him home safely."

Shishido couldn't even work up any ire that it was automatically assumed he was taking Ohtori all the way home. He was the younger man's best friend, and what else were best friends for?

"Okay, Choutarou, this way," he said, steering them both towards the door. He had to walk slowly and place each foot carefully to keep from wobbling, but he was still in much better condition than Ohtori. Somehow he managed to get them both outside and into the promised cab, and give the driver Ohtori's address while getting them both buckled in.

To his great consternation, Ohtori shifted in his seat the moment the buckle was fastened, leaning against Shishido and resting his head on the older man's shoulder. His soft silver hair tickled the side of Shishido's face, and despite his best intentions he found himself turning his head to nuzzle into the silky locks.

"Only Atobe would just pay a bunch of cab drivers to sit around and wait for us to come out," Ohtori was snickering, his breath gusting over the sensitive stretch of Shishido's neck and making him shiver. "I mean, really. He just doesn't operate in the same world as the rest of us."

"He never has," Shishido agreed, trying to shift so Ohtori wouldn't be plastered quite so closely against him. It was a futile effort; the younger man apparently took his movement as a sign to move closer. He sighed as Ohtori rubbed his cheek against Shishido's shoulder, for all the world like a cat marking his human.

Oh gods, if he had any idea what he was doing to me... This time his shifting was an attempt to relieve the pressure against his fly, and he was grateful Ohtori was too far gone to notice something like his partner suddenly popping a boner for no apparent reason.

The ride was mercifully short, as they'd chosen a bar near Ohtori's apartment since he was, after all, the focus of the party. Ohtori spent the whole ride snuggled up against Shishido in a drowsy alcoholic doze, and waking him at the end was rather like trying to get Jirou aware enough to play a match against someone he deemed uninteresting.

Finally, somehow, he managed to get the larger man out of the car and into the apartment building. He was extremely grateful the building had a little-used service elevator, since he sincerely doubted there was any way he could have gotten Ohtori up the four flights of stairs to his level.

They staggered down the hall, Ohtori snickering quietly into Shishido's shoulder at the spectacle they were making, while his long-suffering partner simply did his best to keep them upright. Thankfully he had his own key to Ohtori's apartment; fishing through the younger man's pockets to find his keys would have been just too much for Shishido's self control.

"All right, here you go," he declared as he pushed the door open. "Try not to sleep in through the rehearsal dinner, all right? You ought to have enough time to recover, even considering how late it is."

"You're not coming in?" Ohtori sounded oddly... dismayed. Shishido blinked at him, trying to decipher his expression in the dim light of the hallway. "Shishido... won't you at least help me to the bedroom? Otherwise I think I might end up just collapsing on the couch... or maybe beside it." The flash of whatever-it-was had gone, leaving only sheepish embarrassment in Ohtori's eyes.

Groaning, Shishido leaned his head briefly against the doorjamb and closed his eyes. Ohtori - beautiful, drunk, unthinkingly touchy-feely Ohtori - wanted Shishido to help him to his bedroom. Where he would doubtless immediately begin to strip down, perhaps even asking for Shishido's help in removing the stubborn clothes. It wasn't as if they'd ever thought twice about being nude in each other's presence before, not after so many years of sharing a locker room.

Except Shishido was drunk too, and his self control was already hanging by a thread, frayed away by the looming knowledge of the momentous event that was about to change both their lives forever. "You're trying to kill me," he mumbled into the cool wood of the door frame. "You just like torturing me, that's what it is. You've been spending way too much time with Gakuto tonight."

"Shishido?" He turned just enough to see that Ohtori was giving him another variation on that look; the one that said he was worried and wouldn't his partner please open up and tell him what was wrong? Thankfully Shishido could and had resisted this particular variation, or Ohtori would have found out about his best friend's unfortunate infatuation long ago.

"I'm fine," he said a bit more coherently, pulling away from the wall. "All right, let's get you to bed. No point in bringing you this far and abandoning you."

I can do this, he told himself as he helped Ohtori in the door and carefully removed both their shoes. I can take him to bed... no, bad word choice. I can help him to his bedroom and get him tucked in without jumping him or doing anything else to make an idiot of myself. Really I can.

Feeling remarkably virtuous, Shishido got Ohtori into his bedroom and stripped down to his boxers without so much as even allowing his hands to linger. Ohtori was like a living poseable doll, following Shishido's instructions and directions but making no real move to actually do any of the work himself. Instead the younger man watched his partner with that odd look on his face again.

In some ways Ohtori's obvious stupor made it easier for Shishido. His friend was obviously out of it, and it mostly just made Shishido feel sympathetic. Ohtori was going to have a killer hangover tomorrow for the rehearsal and dinner.

On the other hand, the temptation to steal just one kiss was nearly overwhelming. Ohtori was drunk enough that he probably wouldn't even remember it if Shishido did, or at the very least would write it off to a drunken hallucination. Surely one kiss wouldn't hurt anything, and it would be a memory for Shishido to cling to in all the long, lonely years he was going to have to spend watching Ohtori with his wife. Surely that wasn't too much to ask for, in return for the torture he was willingly putting himself through?

Except he wasn't going to take advantage of his drunken partner, gods damn it! He had more pride than that.

"There you go," he said roughly, pulling the covers back enough that Ohtori would be able to easily crawl beneath them. His voice was more unsteady than he'd have liked, but it wasn't like Ohtori was in any state to notice.

He started to straighten, and found himself caught by a strong arm snaking around his neck, holding him still. "Ryou?" Ohtori whispered, and Shishido froze. It was the first time he could ever remember his partner calling him by given name, despite how often Shishido told him he was welcome to do so. Well, the first time outside of his dreams, but that was a separate issue.

"Y-yeah?" Shishido cursed the hesitation in his voice, but he was too startled to control it. He cleared his throat, and continued a little more steadily, "What is it, Choutarou?"

"Ryou, will you do something for me?" Ohtori was making puppy dog eyes at him again, and Shishido groaned internally. Not again. Whatever it was, he just didn't have the fortitude to go through any more tonight. Surely he could say no just this once?

"What is it, Choutarou?" he heard himself repeat. Damn fucking puppy eyes. And the soft, pleading look on his partner's face was making him think things he really shouldn't be. Things that involved the two of them, and other uses for this bed, and speculation as to what else he could do to put that look on the younger man's face...

"Ryou?" This time Ohtori drew it out as if savouring the name, turning it into almost a verbal caress. "Ryou, will you... kiss me? Please?"

Positive that his wayward fantasies were interfering with his hearing, Shishido stared at him blankly. Do NOT kiss him, that is totally not what he just asked, he scolded himself harshly. You're hearing things. "I'm sorry, what?"

"Kiss me?" Ohtori demanded more than asked this time, his strong arms drawing Shishido closer as he tilted his face up invitingly. "Please?"

Or maybe he wasn't hearing things. Except there was no way in hell his beautiful, wonderful, frustrating, straight partner would ever ask him that. Shishido couldn't find words to express his utter confusion, and he was wondering if he'd passed out in the cab and just hadn't woken yet. Or maybe everything since that moment when Ohtori had first asked him to take him home had really been a dream after all.

Seeing his shock and apparently misinterpreting it, Ohtori continued somewhat desperately. "Ryou, please. I know I'm asking a lot of you. I just... I just need to know. What it might be like. Before I commit myself to just one woman, for the rest of my life. I need to know. Please, Ryou?"

"Asking a lot of me, huh?" Shishido repeated, his voice gone deep and husky as he fought to hold himself back. He was being given carte blanche to do exactly what he'd been dying to do all night. He and Ohtori were known for thinking in synch, but this was a little ridiculous.

Blushing a little, Ohtori lowered his eyes but didn't release his grip on Shishido's shoulders. "I know you're straight and probably put off by the very thought. But there just isn't anybody else I'd trust to ask this, Ryou. Please?"

At that, Shishido had to laugh. The sound was more than a little bitter, making Ohtori look up at him again in confusion. "You really have no idea what you're asking, do you?" he asked. Amazing. Ohtori was usually so damn perceptive, especially when it came to Shishido. But he had absolutely no clue that he was asking Shishido to torture himself even further with a taste of what he'd never be allowed to have again.

"I'm sorry," Ohtori apologized, seeing Shishido's anger but not understanding the reason for it. "I promise, we can pretend we never had this conversation after tonight. I'll never mention it again, and I certainly won't tell anyone! I just need to know. Please?" He locked eyes with Shishido, and suddenly the older man thought he knew what the expression in those sweet brown eyes was. It was lust, and curiosity, and trepidation and nerves. And it turned Shishido on like nothing ever had before. "Ryou, please?"

"You..." Shishido's voice came out in a growl, and he saw Ohtori's eyes widen. Widen, and darken, flooding with something far too much like helpless desire for Shishido's peace of mind. "You want me to kiss you?" Ohtori nodded, speechless, hanging on to him for dear life. "Is that it? Just kiss you?"

"Y-yes," Ohtori stammered, unable to tear his eyes away from Shishido's face. He was breathing raggedly, but no more so than Shishido himself. "I wouldn't ask any more than that from you, Ryou. I know I'm already presuming far too much on our friendsh..."

Shishido cut him off with a kiss that was almost savage in intensity. Gods help him, but he'd take the opportunity they were giving him, and worry about consequences later. Maybe he was really dreaming anyway. And if not, well... Ohtori had asked for it.

The kiss was brutal and desperate, all of Shishido's years-long frustration poured into it. To his surprise Ohtori didn't pull away in shock, but rather matched him just as fiercely. There was nothing gentle about this kiss, no grace or technique, just raw biting passion, the desire to claim someone so thoroughly the whole world would see your stamp on them. And Ohtori was giving every bit as much as he got.

Without Shishido really being aware of the change, somehow the bruising force of it calmed, turning into passion without the ferocity. Ohtori was clutching at him, or maybe that was Shishido clinging to Ohtori, and somehow they'd both tumbled over onto the bed and Shishido was lying half over his taller friend.

When he realized what was happening Shishido pulled away, as far as Ohtori's clinging arms would let him. "This... this is a fantastically stupid idea," he declared, panting for air and trying to pull farther away. "Choutarou, we shouldn't be doing this."

"Why not?" Ohtori demanded, just as breathless as he was. Shishido moaned as Ohtori snuggled up to him, mouth trailing over Shishido's neck since the older man wouldn't let him kiss him again. "It's my stag party, remember? My last night of freedom. I'm supposed to be wild tonight, before I have to settle down. So why shouldn't I? We? Ryou..."

"Oh gods, stop calling me that," Shishido pleaded, his voice breaking. It's already going to break my heart when you walk down the aisle, Choutarou. Are you trying to shatter my soul, too?

"I thought you wanted me to call you that?" Ohtori asked, sounding a bit hurt. Not so hurt that he stopped nuzzling Shishido's throat, though, and it was rapidly driving the older man beyond the bounds of tolerance. "If you really want to go, Ryou, just say so and I'll let go. But it didn't seem like you were that upset at kissing me."

"Choutarou..." the name came out as a strangled gasp as Ohtori nipped at his Adam's apple, and Shishido shuddered. His arms tightened around the younger man, pulling him closer despite his admonitions to himself to push him away. "Choutarou, you're killing me. This is such a bad idea."

Seeming emboldened by the way Shishido was holding him close, Ohtori practically purred at him. "Kiss me again, Ryou. Kiss me until you stop thinking about what a bad idea it is. Wild, remember? I want to enjoy this."

He had absolutely no idea why Ohtori was doing this. Simple curiosity maybe, like he'd said. Just the realization hitting home that tonight was the last night he could act out and not feel guilty afterwards.

It was a mistake, he knew it was a mistake. He did it anyway. If this was the only piece of his partner that he would be allowed to have, he'd take it and treasure it till the end of his days.

"Gods help us both," Shishido breathed, and pulled back enough to allow him to capture Ohtori's lips in another searing kiss. He was lost, drowning in the desire he'd carried for so long. He'd wanted this, wanted it so bad he'd dreamed of it every damn night, fantasized about it almost every moment he was with his partner, and a lot of moments when he wasn't.

Moaning, Ohtori rubbed up against him, the skin of his bare chest rasping against Shishido's shirt. He was still only half over the taller man, so their hips didn't brush together. That was probably a good thing, since Shishido had pretty much already lost all traces of restraint. The only thing now holding him back from completely ravaging his partner was a deep-seated desire not to hurt the younger man.

"Choutarou..." the word was almost dragged out of him, and he wasn't sure if it was a plea or a curse. Ohtori writhing beneath him was driving him mad, even more than watching him on the dance floor had done. He realized his hands were trailing over the strong muscles in his partner's back, tracing the contours with fingers calloused from years of tennis.

"Ryou," Ohtori moaned, sounding no less affected than Shishido. His hands were fumbling at the buttons of Shishido's shirt, his usually graceful fingers made clumsy by the alcohol he'd consumed. Frustrated, he tugged on the hem. "You're wearing too many clothes! Take them off."

Who knew his partner had such a willful streak in him? Well, actually, Shishido had known that, better than most. He'd just never really had it turned on him before. Maybe it was more accurate to wonder where this seeming hedonistic tendency had come from. It was as if once he'd gotten over the nervousness of asking for the kiss in the first place and realized Shishido wasn't unwilling, he'd flung caution to the wind and was just immersing himself in it.

Unfortunately, though he was more sober than Ohtori, sheer lust was making Shishido just as uncoordinated. He had no better luck with the buttons, feeling like they'd somehow grown twice as large as their buttonholes. Finally he grabbed the edges of the shirt and just yanked them apart with a growl. Buttons popped off and flew everywhere, and Ohtori was laughing at him, face shining with amusement and lust.

Before Shishido knew what he was doing he was kissing him again, that beautiful smile and husky laugh too much for him to resist. Not that he was doing much in the way of resisting at the moment. Impatient hands shoved his open shirt down over his shoulders, and he was forced to let go of Ohtori long enough to get the shirt over his arms.

Apparently protesting even so brief a separation, Ohtori clung tightly to him. The younger man's hands were everywhere, touching and exploring in a hesitant, almost shy way. It struck Shishido suddenly that, as far as he knew, Ohtori was still a virgin. The thought caused a twinge of guilt somewhere deep inside him; if Ohtori had waited this long, surely he ought to be saving himself for the woman who would be his wife in just a few short days? But he shoved the guilt aside ruthlessly. It was too late to go back now, he didn't think he could stop if his life depended on it.

It did, however, give him the knowledge to slow down just a bit. "Easy, Choutarou," he murmured, pulling back and caressing Ohtori's back again. He could feel the younger man's hands trembling, from nerves he assumed. "I won't hurt you."

"I know you won't Ryou," Ohtori assured him, perfect trust shining in his deep brown eyes. Shishido caught his breath at that look in his partner's eyes. It was much the same look Ohtori gave him when they were about to face a difficult opponent over the net; the one that said he trusted Shishido to have his back, just as he would have Shishido's. But it was more intense, with something else running through it that Shishido was afraid to look at too closely.

To avoid having to think about it, or about anything really, Shishido kissed him again. Tongues rubbed together, flicking lightly and driving each other wild. Hands fumbled at Shishido's belt, and he wasn't even sure whether they were his or Ohtori's or both. Somehow they got the belt off and the pants unzipped, and then they were tangling up as they struggled to get each other's shorts off so they could be completely naked together.

That first touch of skin against skin, with nothing between them at all, made both of them cry out. It was intense, so much more than anything Shishido had ever experienced before. Somehow he'd always known that, as good as sex with other people could be, it would be ten times better with Ohtori. It was a conviction that had driven him to dump them all one by one, searching for something that could even come close.

He'd been wrong, though. It wasn't ten times better; it was a hundred, a thousand times better. Absolutely incomparable, and if he'd been the overemotional type he'd probably have been crying with the knowledge that he was never, ever going to be satisfied with anything less after tasting heaven this once.

"Please," Ohtori was whispering, face screwed up in something that looked almost closer to agony than ecstasy. "Ryou, please." He couldn't seem to summon anything more coherent than that, rubbing and arching against Shishido. His hand was fluttering over the older man's hip, as if he want to move it down to touch but was afraid to overstep his bounds.

So Shishido did it for him, shifting down until their hips were level and cocks straining against each other, wrapping his hand around them both. The callous on his palm from the tennis racquet was rough against the sensitive skin, making him wince. He usually used oil when he did this on his own, but Ohtori was so damn innocent he doubted the younger man would have anything like that handy.

Still, Ohtori had the same callouses he did, so maybe he had hand lotion or something to use. And this really wasn't going to get any further unless they had some sort of lubrication, he'd read enough to know that. "Choutarou..."

Apparently anticipating what he was going to ask with their usual synchronicity, Ohtori gestured vaguely at the nightstand by his bed. "In the drawer," he panted, his hand returning to Shishido's hip and stroking a long line of fire there. Reluctantly Shishido released them and reached over to the drawer, taking pleasure in Ohtori's soft cry of loss. And then gasping when Ohtori's hand finally slid down and took over what Shishido had been doing.

Unable to see a damn thing thanks to the haze of pleasure and alcohol over his eyes, Shishido fumbled in the indicated drawer until he felt something that felt like it might be what he was after. He withdrew the tube and forced his eyes to focus long enough to be sure it wasn't, say, a muscle relaxant of some kind; he'd learned that lesson the hard way.

His eyes widened in shock as he realized that, far from being the tube of hand lotion he'd expected, it was exactly the same brand of lube he preferred. Ohtori laughed at the look on his face. "I may be inexperienced, but I'm not as innocent as you think, Ryou," he murmured, tightening his grip on them and making Shishido gasp again. "Hurry, please! I can't take much more of this."

"You and me both," Shishido muttered, flipping the cap open with a practiced twist of his wrist and squeezing a liberal amount of the cool gel onto his other hand. He didn't wait to let it warm to skin temperature, no less impatient than his partner. They both moaned at the feel of the cool oil as he rubbed it over their cocks and Ohtori's hand, making them both slippery. Suddenly it was much easier to stroke, and he found his fingers tangling with Ohtori's as they both picked up the rhythm.

"Is this what you want, Choutarou?" he panted, muscles tensing as his hips arched up to drive him harder into Ohtori's hand. "Like this? You want me to make you come?"

"Gods," Ohtori shivered, his pupils dilating. Apparently he liked being talked dirty to, Shishido noted. Not that he was sure what he was noting it for, because this was so never going to happen again. He couldn't believe it was happening now. "Ryou... no, this isn't what I want," he murmured, closing his eyes and shivering again.

Stung by the sudden apparent change of mind, Shishido went to pull away. Ohtori caught his hand, opening his eyes to give him the single hottest look Shishido had ever received from anyone, male or female. "I want you to fuck me, Ryou," he whispered, licking his lips. Shishido's eyes followed the path of that tongue helplessly, his hand stilling on their cocks as he realized the extent of what Ohtori was asking for. "I want to know what it feels like this way, just once, before I'll never have another chance. Fuck me, Ryou, please? I'll... I'll turn around, and you can even pretend I'm a girl if you need to. You can do that with girls too, right? So it wouldn't be too awful?"

"Choutarou..." Disbelieving, Shishido finally managed to tear his eyes away from that luscious mouth. He trailed his gaze over Ohtori's long, lanky body, taking in the broad shoulders, narrow waist and sleek muscles. He laughed, the sound shaky. "Even from behind, Choutarou, nobody could ever mistake you for a girl."

"You... you can't, then?" Ohtori sounded devastated, the heat in his eyes suddenly replaced by an aching disappointment. "I understand..."

"You don't understand a gods damned thing," Shishido growled, shifting to pin the larger man in place as Ohtori tried to pull away. He released his own cock and made his grip tighter on his partner's, starting to move again in long, torturously slow strokes. Ohtori gasped and writhed beneath him again, eyes falling closed once more as his head tipped back and mouth dropped open, panting for air.

Once again he had reason to curse the difference in height between him and his partner. Shishido wanted to ravage that tempting mouth, but if he wanted to be able to hang on to his partner's cock, the best he could do was nuzzle the bared stretch of throat. The whimper Ohtori made when his teeth closed over the flesh there was plenty satisfying, however. Some last vestige of sanity reminded him not to mark the other boy; somehow he thought the bride wouldn't exactly be pleased to see that on her new husband.

He wanted to, though. Oh gods how he wanted it, to mark his Choutarou so the whole world would know what they'd been up to, would know that Ohtori was his. Especially when Ohtori sighed and tipped his head back further, as if in invitation. "You have absolutely no idea what you're messing with," he growled against his partner's throat.

"Oh gods," Ohtori was moaning helplessly. "Please, Ryou. Oh gods please. I can't take much more." His hands were clutching at Shishido's shoulders like he was afraid to let go, and Shishido thought there might be bruises there in the morning. He found he didn't care in the least. Hearing Ohtori beg him like that was just about the biggest turn on of his life.

"You want me inside you, Choutarou?" He wasn't sure if the answering whimper was in response to his question, or the fact that he'd released the younger man's cock to fumble for the lube. He'd dropped it beside them somewhere, and it was hiding in the covers... there it was! "Don't you know enough to be careful what you wish for?"

He wasn't going to last much longer either. He wrenched off the half-open cap and poured the slick oil into his palm. Ohtori gave a choked cry that might almost have been a strangled scream as Shishido dumped the oil onto the base of his cock and his balls. Smoothing it downwards, he found the tight ring of muscle that blocked his entrance to the younger boy's ass.

He'd read enough to know that he should be going slow here, taking his time. He didn't want Ohtori to be hurt, and he'd probably never had anything inside him before. Shishido might not be hung like the proverbial horse, but he wasn't exactly small either. If he didn't stretch his partner he could do real damage.

Except, to his shock and Ohtori's evident pleasure, his probing finger slipped right inside, meeting almost no resistance at all. Even when he added a second, the muscle stretched easily around his fingers. "Choutarou...?"

For the second time that night, Ohtori laughed at Shishido's surprise. "I told you I wasn't as innocent as you thought," he panted, squirming and arching up to try to drive Shishido's fingers deeper. "I was curious, and I tried it on myself, and it felt good so I kept doing it. Haven't you ever?"

Well, yes, he had, but that wasn't the point. His sweet, innocent Choutarou had been sticking his own fingers up his ass on a regular basis? Suddenly the younger boy's desire to try sex that way, just once, made a bit more sense. This was the only opportunity he'd ever had, and of course who else would he trust to ask but his best friend?

Any fantasies he'd been harbouring that this was really some convoluted way for Ohtori to confess his feelings for Shishido evaporated. It really was curiosity, plain and simple. Hell, he hadn't even been aware he was harbouring any fantasies about that until they were shattered. Still, they were far past the point of no return. There was no way he could stop now and stay sane.

Groaning, he slid a third finger inside, and now there was some resistance. Curling his index finger upwards, he searched for the rough spot that should be on the upper wall that would drive Ohtori crazy...

Yeah, just like that. He knew he'd found the right place when Ohtori gave another choked scream and bucked against him, thrashing his head from side to side. Forget bruises, Shishido was going to have open wounds on his shoulders from how tight Ohtori was clutching at him. But damn, was it worth it for that look of stunned ecstasy on his partner's face.

"Ryou!" Ohtori's voice broke on the word, the note of desperation in it sending a delicious shudder down Shishido's spine. "Ryou, please, gods, I want you in me! Please, I cant..." his voice caught on a sob, and he tossed his head against the pillow again.

Knowing if he pushed much harder Ohtori was going to come and this would be over before it really started, Shishido relented. "Turn over," he ordered gruffly as he withdrew his fingers. "Up on your hands and knees."

Much as he wanted to see Ohtori's face, to have that shining image to hold with him for the rest of his lonely life, he knew he didn't dare. Not if he ever, ever wanted to be able to face his best friend again without either jumping him or breaking into shameful tears. It would just be too much.

Obediently Ohtori squirmed over onto his stomach and lifted himself up. Somehow he managed to make the movement look graceful instead of awkward, like he was offering himself up to Shishido in supplication.

Shishido nuzzled against his spine, licking his way up from tailbone to neck. Ohtori shivered under him, making those soft whimpering noises that seemed to shoot straight through Shishido's chest. "Patience," Shishido murmured as he nipped at the nape of his partner's neck. As if he himself weren't quivering with the desperate desire to be inside that tempting ass.

"Please," Ohtori moaned again, his head bowed until his silver curls brushed against the dark fabric of his pillows. His arms were shaking; Shishido could feel the trembling all through the younger man's body. He caught a glimpse of one dark eye as he leaned up and pressed himself against that lean body, however - it was gleaming with wickedness as well as lust. He groaned as he realized Ohtori was starting to figure out what effect his begging was having on Shishido. "Ryou, please..."

"Damn you, anyway," Shishido choked out as he positioned himself. The larger head of his cock pressed against and into Ohtori's body, making the younger man rock back against him. "We're both going to regret this."

Then he was inside, sliding all the way into that warm, tight body, and all semblance of coherent thought fled from his mind. All he could think of was how damn good it felt, how when he thrust just this way it made Ohtori scream into the pillow and his body clench around Shishido's cock. How it felt to latch onto the back of Ohtori's neck with lips and teeth, tasting the sweat there. How when he lifted himself away to avoid the temptation to mark the younger boy, the new position drove him even deeper inside and made them both cry out. How Ohtori's hands were fisted in the sheets, his breath sobbing in his lungs as Shishido pounded into him with no mercy.

If Ohtori had wanted it slow and gentle, he'd asked the wrong person. Years and years of frustration were poured into this one act, and Shishido didn't think he could have slowed the brutal pace if his life depended on it. Ohtori didn't seem to be complaining though; far from it, the cries ripped from his throat at each thrust were anything but protests.

"Yesssss..." the word seemed almost torn from Ohtori's throat, as did the ones that followed it. "Oh gods, Ryou, yes! More, please, faster... harder, deeper, it's so good, so much better than I even imagined..." he sobbed again into the pillow. "Fuck me, Ryou!"

Shishido had thought he was fucking him, but he discovered differently as Ohtori's words spurred him to new heights of passion. Who knew Ohtori would be the type to talk dirty during sex? Gods, it was hot as fucking hell, though. "You want it, Choutarou?" he gasped, shaking with the intensity of the sensation pouring through him. "You got it."

They were slamming together hard enough now to shake the whole bed frame. Ohtori arched up into each thrust, crying out in that breathy voice that had the power to drive Shishido absolutely insane. Shishido didn't want to leave his partner hanging, but he didn't think he could hold out much longer, either. "Touch yourself," he ordered in a growl. He'd have done it himself, but if he let go of Ohtori's hips he was afraid he'd fly away into oblivion without the anchor. "Bring yourself off, Choutarou. Let me see you."

To his surprise, on his next thrust he felt the younger man shudder against him, convulsing with pleasure. His inner muscles tightened so hard they nearly pushed Shishido right out of him, and the sudden squeezing was too much for him. With a startled shout, Shishido plunged over the edge of ecstasy, collapsing over Ohtori's back as he emptied himself inside his partner.

Ohtori remained upright beneath his weight for a brief moment, and then his arms gave out as well, sending them both sprawling over the bed. They lay there, panting and trying to collect their energy and, at least in Shishido's case, the scattered remnants of their mind.

"Choutarou?" he finally croaked when he thought he was capable of coherent speech. "Did you really...? But you didn't even touch yourself."

A deep groan from beneath him was his only answer at first. Finally Ohtori seemed to summon the strength to move, and he turned his head so he could look at Shishido over his shoulder. The look of sleepy satiation in his eyes made Shishido's heart skip a beat or two. "Didn't have to," the younger man murmured, his words punctuated by a yawn. "Gods Ryou, that was... gods."

Well, if Ohtori didn't have words for it, neither did Shishido. Nor did he have words to describe the way his heart was aching right now, looking at Ohtori lying there like he'd just gotten everything he'd ever wanted in the world. It was a look he'd dreamed of putting on his partner's face more than once, and now that he was finally seeing it, it was breaking his heart as reality started to set in.

What had he been thinking? Granted he had a hard time denying Ohtori at the best of times, but still! Ohtori was getting married in two days, and Shishido had just pounded him into the mattress like there was no tomorrow. He wished there wasn't a tomorrow, that way he wouldn't have to face the consequences of what they'd just done.

Panicking, he shoved himself up on shaking arms and rolled off the younger man, pushing himself into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. "Ryou?" Ohtori blinked up at him in confusion at the sudden movement. One strong hand wrapped around Shishido's wrist, holding him there. "Where are you going? Sleep with me, please?"

"I think I just did," Shishido muttered, shock setting in as his brain tried to absorb what he'd just done. He ran his free hand through his hair, wincing as his fingers caught in sweaty snarls.

"Idiot," Ohtori laughed, a sensuous chuckle completely unlike his usual carefree laughter. It made Shishido shudder. "That's not what I meant and you know it. Stay with me?"

"I... need to use the bathroom," Shishido prevaricated. He did, actually, but it was just the first thing that had come to mind.

"Oh, okay," Ohtori yawned and released him, shifting so he was under the blankets and snuggling into his pillow. He was squished over on one side of the bed; Shishido realized after a moment it was so he'd have room to climb in when he came back from the bathroom. His stomach lurched.

Quickly he stood and made his way to the bathroom. He took care of his aching bladder as he tried to gather his thoughts and force them into coherency. What was he going to do now? For Ohtori this had been nothing more than one last, wild experiment before settling down, that much seemed clear. Of course he wanted Shishido to stay - that was just the way Ohtori was, all touchy and cuddly and sentimental.

But there was no way in hell Shishido could face waking up in that bed, to that smile, the next morning. Even if Ohtori wasn't horrified by what he'd done once the alcohol wore off... no, he couldn't. If he let himself have it once, he'd want it forever. He was already ruined for anyone else, but there was no reason to torture himself further.

He especially didn't think he could handle waking up to that soft smile, getting dressed, and going to Ohtori's wedding rehearsal. There was just no way. He'd break down and make an idiot of himself. Ohtori deserved better than that, damn it. He deserved the casual, no-strings sex he'd thought he was getting, not a psychotic stalker best friend.

By the time he'd nerved himself up enough to go back out there and tell Ohtori he needed to go home, a good fifteen minutes had passed. Bemused, Shishido paused in the doorway, staring. Ohtori was fast asleep, one hand tucked under his cheek like a little kid. The other hand was stretched out over the empty half of the bed, like he was reaching for something in his sleep. Little snores were coming from him; caused by the alcohol, Shishido assumed, since he'd never heard his partner snore before.

Dead to the world, he realized, moving forward to look down at the younger man. He really was adorable when he slept. Well, he was adorable all the time, really. But especially when he slept. Now what am I supposed to do?

It struck him all at once. This was his opportunity, his chance to get away from this with some shred of dignity left intact. And most importantly, to end it without Ohtori resenting him for taking advantage of him when he was drunk. Ohtori was so damn drunk it would be a miracle if the younger man remembered anything of the night - especially if Shishido wasn't around to remind him.

If he just... acted like it had never happened, maybe Ohtori would believe it had all been a dream. Shishido would have his one night to remember, without the awkwardness of having to face his best friend knowing they'd slept together. And without Ohtori possibly questioning just why Shishido had been so willing and eager to go through with his request.

Quietly, ignoring the headache that was starting to set in as the alcohol in his own system wore off, he gathered up his clothes and dressed as best he could. There were no buttons left on his shirt, but it was loose enough that if he crossed the ends and tucked them into his pants, it covered most of his chest. It was good enough to get a few streets over to his own building.

He even remembered to gather the fallen buttons, hunting them down where they'd fallen, and to recap the lube and replace it in the drawer where he'd found it. He couldn't do much about the mess they'd made, but it looked like Ohtori had wiped himself down with a shirt before passing out. With any luck he'd think he'd just come home, jerked off, and gone to sleep.

Before he left, Shishido hesitated beside the bed, staring down at his best friend. Ohtori really did look like some kind of earthbound angel when he slept, so sweet and peaceful. Swallowing, Shishido leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on those soft lips.

"Love you, Choutarou," he whispered the words he'd never before dared to say aloud. In his sleep Ohtori shifted and smiled. Shishido watched a moment longer, then turned and headed for the door, leaving his partner - and his heart - behind.

End of Part 1

On to Part 2

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