Something Real
by Jain

Written for 14 Valentines: Voting.


When Fuji was nearly fifteen, one of his father's coworkers tried to feel him up at a party his parents were hosting. The man was drunk, and Fuji managed to get away with a sharp kick to his ankle, but it was overwhelming and a bit frightening, all the same. He'd always assumed that sex was something he could worry about in high school, or maybe even later.

School the next day felt like a foreign country. All of the students were flirting with each other or whispering about their crushes or even trying to hide lovebites with the careful adjustment of their clothing. Rationally, Fuji knew that nothing had changed since he'd seen his classmates the day before; it was just that, until then, he'd never paid any attention.

At least the regulars were still normal...or they were until they got out onto the court, and Fuji really noticed the way Momo preened for the girls watching them practice and the way Eiji did extra flips when Nakamura from their history class walked by.

It all seemed so pointless to Fuji, especially since Momo didn't even know any of those girls, and Eiji knew Nakamura only slightly better. If Fuji were going to like anyone like that, he'd pick someone he actually liked first.

...Fuji thought about that for a moment.

"Fuji! Pay attention to the game!" Eiji shouted from across the net.

"I am," Fuji called back, returning Eiji's serve, and Eiji grumbled a little but didn't yell at him again.

The thing was, he realized, it really couldn't be just anybody that he liked. He liked Eiji more than anyone but his siblings, and the idea of being interested in him like that was just too weird to think about. Fuji watched the other regulars all through practice, and it was almost bizarre how many reasons he could find to not be attracted to his--objectively very attractive--friends.

What was even more bizarre, though, was when he couldn't find a reason, or at least not one that mattered enough for him to care. Watching the other regulars soon turned into watching Oishi. His tennis was neat and economical without being too spare; his handsome face, flushed with exertion, was somehow endlessly fascinating. Just the suggestion of his body under his loose tennis clothes made Fuji's breath catch.

Fuji hid what he was thinking behind the blandest mask he could muster. Something had changed in him, and he wasn't sure if he liked it. It felt as though he'd finally woken up.


It was Oishi's responsibility to lock up the clubhouse on Wednesday, when Tezuka had student council meetings, so that Wednesday, Fuji drew out his shower until everyone else had gone home. Oishi was sitting on a bench reading a textbook when he finally emerged. "Sorry to keep you waiting," he said cheerfully.

"It's no problem," Oishi said, without even looking up from his book.

Fuji smiled to himself as he toweled dry and then dropped his towel on a nearby bench. He crouched in front of his locker. "Oishi, have you seen my other sock anywhere?" he asked.

Oishi made a strangled sound behind him, and then cleared his throat before saying, "Sorry, I don't see it anywhere."

"Oh, never mind. Here it is," Fuji said, and collected his socks and underwear from the locker. A quick glance at Oishi showed him with his face buried in his textbook, his face bright red, so Fuji didn't bother lingering as he got dressed.

"All done," he said, and hid a smile when Oishi snuck a wary glance at him before sticking his book into his bag and getting up to leave. "Thank you for waiting for me."

"It wasn't any trouble," Oishi said politely, and walked with Fuji to the bus stop.


The next day, Fuji behaved himself in the locker room, but he talked Eiji into playing doubles with Taka-san, which left him and Oishi to pair up against them. Partnering Oishi was a minor revelation. He knew that Oishi was a talented player--probably the fourth-best on the team, though Kaidoh might surpass him in another year or so--but it was another thing to actually feel that for himself. They didn't have the on-court rapport that Oishi and Eiji shared; Fuji hadn't anticipated that they would. But Oishi was more reliable even than Taka-san, and it felt incredible to have that sort of support bolstering him up as he played. Not to mention that Fuji very much liked the shivery feeling on the back of his neck that came from having Oishi's eyes on him the entire match.


On Friday, Fuji briefly considered asking Oishi to the movies. They could share popcorn, and even if Oishi only accepted as friends, it would still be a little like a date. Only the realization that Eiji would want to tag along--and that Fuji would have no good excuse for refusing his company--managed to dissuade him.

Instead, he made a point of mentioning the math exam scheduled for the following Monday, and how he probably wouldn't be able to meet Eiji that weekend because he'd be too busy studying. He played doubles with Taka-san against Inui and Kaidoh. And then he tucked his math textbook under a bench, just where Oishi would likely find it when he double-checked the locker room for anything out of place, and went to catch his bus.

Half an hour later, there was a knock on his front door.

"Hello, Oishi," he said with a carefully puzzled frown after answering it, and then let his eyes fall on the book in Oishi's hand. "Oh, you brought me my book! Thank you so much. I didn't notice I'd forgotten it until I was home, and I didn't know how I was going to get it back before my test on Monday."

Oishi smiled kindly at him. "It was no trouble, Fuji. Though maybe you should check your cell phone battery. I tried calling a few times and there wasn't any answer."

Fuji nodded. "I'll be sure to do that. Thank you." He waited until Oishi had started to turn to go, and said quickly, "Would you like to come in for a bit?"

"Well..." Oishi began, and Fuji added:

"Since you came all the way out here, you might as well, right? And my family's gone out tonight--Yumiko's new boyfriend wanted to take her and my parents out to dinner--and I think that I cooked too much for just myself."

Oishi's face softened. "All right. Let me just call my mother to let her know that I'll be eating dinner here."

Fuji had made soba noodles and broth and deep-fried tofu, and Oishi slurped up two and a half bowls of it. "This is really good," he said, more than once, and Fuji smiled and thanked him.

"How did you learn to cook like that?"

"I'm not sure. I suppose my mother taught me, or maybe my sister. I remember I used to make Yuuta lunch when we were little and my mother had a migraine, so I must have learned how a long time ago."

"I've been trying to learn how to cook," Oishi confessed. "It never turns out quite like my mother's cooking, though."

"Oh, well, it won't," Fuji said. "My mother and Yumiko and I share a lot of the same recipes, and they almost always turn out differently, depending on who cooked it. You shouldn't worry about trying to get the food you make to taste exactly like your mother's. Just worry about getting it to taste good."

"Okay," Oishi said. He gave Fuji a shamefaced smile. "It'll probably be a while before I get that to happen, either," and Fuji laughed.

"That's all right, too."

After dinner, Oishi helped Fuji wash the dishes, and then they went into the living room to watch television. Fuji sat close to Oishi, which Oishi disregarded with the nonchalance of someone who had Eiji as a doubles partner and who had consequently learned to ignore such petty things as personal space among friends.

He looked more than a little startled when Fuji slipped his hand into Oishi's, but Fuji just smiled at him sweetly and pretended that there was nothing out of the ordinary in him wanting to hold Oishi's hand. As he'd expected, Oishi didn't actually object to the gesture. What Fuji hadn't expected was that Oishi would lean forward and kiss him.

It was nothing more than a soft brush of their mouths; Fuji barely had time to notice that it was happening before Oishi had straightened up again, his face bright red. "Sorry if that wasn't...um..." Oishi stammered. "But..."

"Do it again?" Fuji asked, and Oishi smiled crookedly at him and leaned down for another kiss. This time they opened their mouths and Oishi's tongue licked against his, which felt incredibly odd, but also incredibly good.

It was only when Fuji climbed onto his lap that Oishi drew back a little. "Fuji, your family could come home any minute."

"They only left an hour ago."

"Still," Oishi said. "Can you imagine if they did come home early?"

"We could go to my room," Fuji suggested.

Oishi licked his lips. "All right. But I can't stay too long. My mother said she wanted me home by ten at the latest."

"That's fine. I have to study for my math test later, anyway," Fuji said, smiling. He led the way to his room and closed the door behind them.

They stared at each other for a long moment, and then Oishi bent down for another kiss. Fuji started working on the buttons of Oishi's shirt, and Oishi made an odd noise in the back of his throat and placed his hand over both of Fuji's, stilling his fingers. "Fuji, what are you...?" he asked.

Fuji opened his eyes wide. "You don't want to?"

"Want to what? Oishi asked. His voice cracked on the last word, and he blushed.

Fuji just shrugged. "You don't have to take your clothes off, if you don't like." He brushed a kiss over Oishi's lips, let Oishi deepen it for just a moment before pulling away again. "But I'm going to get naked now." He started unbuttoning his shirt, feeling his cheeks heat under Oishi's incredulous gaze. This was different from being in the locker room; that had felt like a joke, a dare. This felt like being a pinned butterfly, open and exposed.

"And then I'm going to lie on my bed and touch myself," he continued. Oishi whimpered, his eyes dark and heavy with arousal. "If you want, I'll touch you, too. Or you can just watch me. Or you can go home. It's up to you, Oishi." Fuji let his shirt slip off his shoulders. Then he unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, shoving them to the floor along with his underwear. He shivered a little, and he wasn't sure if it was due to the sudden cold or to Oishi's eyes on his naked body.

Oishi stood as still as stone while Fuji turned and walked to his bed on only slightly shaky legs and spread himself out over the covers. His stomach trembled a little with nerves as he lay back on his bed and slid one hand slowly down his chest, stroking over the curve of his hip before he curled it around his erection. Oishi stared at him, and Fuji could only hope that it was more out of hunger than disgust; he couldn't read Oishi's expression at all right then.

He stroked himself, feeling Oishi's eyes on him as though they could burn his skin, Fuji's own eyes fluttering shut with pleasure and the half-shameful desire to hide. And then he heard Oishi take a few stumbling steps forward, followed by the soft thump as he knelt by the side of the bed. Fuji turned his head to look at him.

"Can I?" Oishi asked, one hand hovering over Fuji's chest.

Fuji smiled. "I already said you could."

"Actually, you said that you could touch me," Oishi corrected him, and he traced Fuji's clavicle with his thumb.

Fuji took a slightly shaky breath. Oishi's warm hand slid further down, the tips of his fingers brushing over Fuji's nipple. Fuji arched into the touch, and Oishi pinched the nipple gently. His other hand stroked Fuji's thigh, running along the outside to cup Fuji's knee, and then trailing back up the soft, inner part.

When Oishi pulled his hands away suddenly, Fuji gave an involuntary whimper, before the sound of Oishi fumbling with his belt buckle finally registered in his brain. Oishi looked shy but determined as he stripped off his shirt and pants, and he hesitated only slightly over his boxers before pulling those off, as well.

If being naked in front of Oishi was strange and different, having Oishi naked in front of him was a revelation. Quick glimpses in the locker room weren't much, compared to the opportunity to really look at him while Oishi was standing close enough to touch. The solid muscles of his arms and stomach reflected the light from Fuji's lamp in a soft interplay of color and shadow. The tip of his erection gleamed wetly. Fuji had never wanted anything in his life so much as to photograph Oishi right then, and only the certain knowledge that Oishi would hate the idea kept him from lunging for his camera.

Oishi gave him a bashful smile. "Is there room for me, too?" he asked, and Fuji shook off his abstraction enough to scoot to one side, making space for Oishi on the narrow futon. Oishi lay down next to him, and the warmth radiating off his body inexplicably made Fuji shiver.

"Are you cold?" Oishi asked immediately.

Fuji smiled at him. "Only a little." He watched, bemused, as Oishi tugged the covers aside and pulled them over their bodies. "You don't want to look at me anymore?"

"I don't want you to get sick," Oishi corrected him, and Fuji laughed delightedly.

"You're warmer than the blankets," he said, rolling on top of Oishi. Oishi blushed, and Fuji pressed his hands against Oishi's cheeks. "See what I mean?"

"Fuji!" Oishi said, in mild protest, before he pulled Fuji down for another kiss in an obvious attempt to distract him.

Fuji was in a mood to be distracted. Oishi traced the inside of Fuji's mouth with his tongue, licking his teeth and tongue and the roof of his mouth, and his hard cock pressed into Fuji's stomach. Fuji tried not to squirm, though it was difficult when his own erection was trapped between their tightly-pressed bodies.

Oishi's hands slipped down from Fuji's shoulders to his lower back, and Fuji caught his breath. And then Oishi cupped his bare ass, watching Fuji carefully the whole while, and Fuji surprised himself by moaning out loud.

Fuji masturbated, of course, and when he'd started thinking about Oishi like this, he'd finally gone to the store to buy some lubricant and try out a few things that he'd never gotten around to trying before. He'd wanted to be ready, as much as possible. Just in case.

Fucking himself with one or two fingers had felt good, and he could see how more than that might be better. But just touching his ass hadn't done much more than tickle a little, and he'd concluded that it wasn't really an erogenous zone for him. That conclusion was being dismantled by each touch of Oishi's strong hands.

Oishi kneaded and rubbed his flesh, while Fuji gasped and arched back into Oishi's touch, his cock hardening further until it almost hurt. "Please," he said, "please," and he could barely recognize his own voice, it was so high and desperate.

"I don't...what do you want me to do?" Oishi said, staring up at him with wide eyes.

Fuji reached over into his bedside table and took out a condom and the lube, willing himself not to blush.

Oishi turned red enough for the both of them, though Fuji could also see the growing excitement in his face. "Yeah, okay," Oishi said. "Um...how do you want to...?"

"We can stay like this," Fuji decided. He trusted Oishi, but there was still some small, stupid part of him that was scared to be pinned down underneath Oishi's greater weight.

"Okay," Oishi said. "But I meant, which one of us is going to..."

He trailed off again, and Fuji stared down at him, truly astonished. He'd never imagined that Oishi wouldn't have certain pre-expectations. Still, even with this new, surprising, and not at all unwelcome possibility, the fact remained that Fuji had prepared himself for this eventuality. It only made sense for him to go first.

"You can fuck me," he said, and felt his face go hot at his own words.

Oishi licked his lips. "You'll show me how, right?" and Fuji nodded and smiled a little.

"It's easy," he said, because if everyone else in the world could figure this out, then there wasn't any way that he and Oishi could fail at sex.

"Okay," Oishi said. The little frown lines between his eyes began to fade. Fuji kissed him lightly on the mouth.

"Do you want to do this, or should I?" he asked, waving the tube of lubricant at Oishi.

"I'll do it."

Fuji felt a sudden warmth wash over him, even though he'd half been expecting Oishi to say that. He squeezed some lube onto Oishi's fingers and then guided his hand downwards. "Just one finger, first," he said. He could take two of his own fingers with no preparation, but Oishi's fingers were larger than his.

Oishi nodded and slipped one finger between Fuji's cheeks. He rubbed there lightly while Fuji tried to remember to breathe, and then slid his finger carefully into Fuji's body. "Like this?" he breathed, and Fuji nodded. Oishi fucked him with first one, and then two fingers, while Fuji moaned softly.

When Fuji felt as though he might go out of his mind if they didn't move on, he tore the condom packet open for Oishi--he'd practiced this, too--and put it on him.

It burned a little when he slid down onto Oishi's erection, but just the look on Oishi's face--half-pleasure and half-disbelief--would have made it worth it. Oishi placed his hands gently on Fuji's hips, but otherwise he held himself almost painfully still beneath him. A small shiver ran through his body, and Fuji gave him a slightly wicked smile. And then he started fucking himself on Oishi, and everything whited out but the feeling of Oishi in and under him, and the way that Oishi looked at him.

Oishi reached his right hand over to brush across the tip of Fuji's penis, already wet with pre-come, and Fuji gasped. "Please," he said, and Oishi wrapped his hand around him and stroked, just a little bit roughly. They moved together in tandem, until Fuji cried out suddenly and came all over Oishi's chest.

Oishi lifted his hand to touch Fuji's face, looking up at him with a sort of desperate intensity. Two, three, four thrusts later, and he shuddered through his own orgasm with no more than a quiet moan.

His thigh muscles suddenly shaking with strain, Fuji slid off Oishi's body to lie next to him. The condom he pulled off with sleepy fingers, tied, and tossed in the vague direction of his wastebasket, since Oishi didn't seem to quite know what to do with it himself. His body felt as though it were humming, in a way that it never had while getting off by himself.

They lay together like that, Fuji's head on Oishi's shoulder, and Oishi petting him and kissing his hair, for long enough that Fuji began to drift into sleep.

"Fuji," Oishi said hesitantly, just before that could happen.

Fuji murmured in response, too satisfied and lethargic to bother with words.

"I have to go. My parents are going to worry if I'm not home soon."

"Mmm, okay." Oishi slid to the side of the bed and gathered his clothes up from the floor. Fuji cracked his eyes open so that he could watch Oishi's strong, smooth back and arms move as he wriggled into his underwear and pants and pulled his shirt over his head.

Once he was dressed, Oishi turned to look at him, an almost hesitant expression on his face. "It was...good. Really good. Um, thank you."

Fuji hummed in the back of his throat and pulled Oishi down for another kiss, just a quick brush of lips against his. "Thank you, Oishi."

Oishi opened his mouth to say something else, and then seemed to think better of it. Finally, he said, "I'll see you later."

"See you," Fuji said, smiling, as Oishi turned out the light and closed the door softly as he left.


Fuji kept his phone close by him that weekend, waiting for Oishi to call. He'd set Oishi's ring to the loudest and most obnoxious song that he could find, just to be sure that he wouldn't miss it accidentally. He even took it into the bathroom with him and set it on the counter while he was showering.

He could have called Oishi himself, of course, but that felt a little too desperate. He'd been the one to invite Oishi into his bed; now it was Oishi's turn to seek him out.

Instead, he called Eiji every few hours, using the home phone so as not to tie up his cell phone line. It was a very good thing that the "important math test" on Monday was less a test and more a short quiz to measure their progress in a difficult chapter, because Fuji didn't open his books even once.

It would have been worth it if Oishi had only called him, but Oishi didn't.


He'd expected Oishi to be awkward and embarrassed at school on Monday, but instead Oishi acted perfectly normal. Fuji didn't know quite what to do in the face of this calm and collected Oishi, who smiled at him just as usual, while Fuji himself was painfully unsettled inside.

"Fuji," Oishi said after afternoon practice, "Could I talk to you for a minute?"

"Of course." Fuji waved Eiji away with a promise that he'd call him later that night, and then he waited while Oishi locked the clubhouse door with his key.

"Eiji says that you were asking him about me," Oishi said.

"Is that so surprising?" Fuji asked, his voice carefully neutral.

"Well, it surprised me, so I guess you could say that it was."

"Why did it surprise you?"

"Why were you asking Eiji about me?" Oishi countered, and Fuji's eyes widened. He sometimes forgot that, despite being one of the genuinely nicest boys he knew, another of Oishi's strongest character traits was persistence.

"I thought you might have mentioned me to him, that's all," Fuji said with studied nonchalance.

Oishi blushed. "Because of...what happened on Friday?"

Fuji shrugged.

"Fuji..." Oishi said reproachfully. He shook his head. "I wouldn't talk to Eiji about something like that. It was private, between you and me."

"I suppose so," Fuji said.

"And, also, it was just that once, right?" Oishi said, looking at him intently.

Fuji froze. There was a terrible prickly feeling at the back of his eyes. "I...yes," he said. "Right."

"That's what I figured," Oishi said. His voice was very calm and matter-of-fact, and for a split second Fuji wanted to scream at him. "And I know I already told you this, but...thank you."

Hearing Oishi say those words again--and the realization that Oishi must have meant them like this on Friday, when Fuji had thought that they were just a prelude to something more--made Fuji's throat tighten up painfully. He couldn't force any words out, so he just nodded, closing his eyes to hide the sudden tears forming in them.

There was a long, terrible silence, and then Oishi said, very softly, "Fuji? Are you all right?"

Fuji nodded again.

"Could you...look at me?"

Oishi's voice was actually hurting him, all of that gentleness and sympathy directed towards his teammate and friend, when Fuji wanted just the littlest bit more than that, just for him. He opened his eyes defiantly, feeling the first tear slide down his cheek, and Oishi gaped at him. And then Oishi was pulling him into a tight hug, and Fuji sobbed once before he managed to choke back the further noises that were trying to escape his throat.

There wasn't any way to hold back the tears, though, and he cried into Oishi's shoulder while Oishi rubbed his back and murmured soothingly to him. Fuji's heart and throat both ached, and he couldn't stop crying--even though anyone could walk by and see them; even though Oishi was witness to this horrible and humiliating breakdown--and so when Oishi said, "Please, Fuji, tell me what's wrong," in a helpless tone of voice, he shoved Oishi away with both hands and glared at him.

"Fuji?" Oishi said in surprise.

Fuji clenched his hands tightly and bowed his head, trying desperately to contain himself. "I just wanted..." Fuji's throat tried to tighten up, and he swallowed painfully. "I thought that we could...be something together, and--"

"We can," Oishi interrupted, his voice shaking a little, which surprised Fuji enough that he didn't pull away when Oishi stepped closer. "You never...you didn't say anything... I just didn't want this unless it could be something real."

There were still tears pricking at the back of Fuji's eyes, but the ache in his throat disappeared as suddenly as it had come, and he reached out to take Oishi's hand, not caring whether anyone could see them. "It already is," he said.


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