Halrloprillalar (prillalar) wrote,
Halrloprillalar
prillalar

Whistle! Fic: Experimentation (Fujishiro/Fuwa)

My first pass at Fuwa. Let me know what you think.

Experimentation by Halrloprillalar
Whistle!, Fujishiro/Fuwa. PG13. 1900 words.
Practice, practice.

Spoilers/Timeframe: Episode 28 - Beat Your Rival


Experimentation

"Come with me, Fuwa-kun," Fujishiro said. "I want to show you something."

"What?" Fuwa said. He had his hand on the door to his room. He had planned to take a nap while that loud kid Koiwa was off with Kazamatsuri.

"You don't mind some extra work on your own time, do you?" Fujishiro smiled.

"No," Fuwa said. "But you're in A group. I'm in B group."

"That doesn't matter," Fujishiro said. "Come on."

Likely Fujishiro wanted to practice PKs. Fuwa decided that the experience he would gain from defending against Fujishiro would be of more value to him than the nap. "All right," he said. And tonight, he would try the new anti-snoring method he had devised for Koiwa.

"Great!" Fujishiro took Fuwa's arm and led him down the hallway.

Fuwa pulled his arm away. They weren't going to the usual exit to the practice fields. Maybe there was an indoor facility or another outside area Fuwa hadn't seen yet.

"You're doing pretty well at the training camp," Fujishiro said.

"Yes," Fuwa said. He was performing adequately and the coaching was helping him improve his skills. But the schedule could have been better organized to maximize the time the coaches spent with each boy. So extra practice would be good for them both. "Why are you practicing with me?"

"I thought you'd be the best one for the job," Fujishiro said.

"Better than Shibusawa-san?"

"You know," Fujishiro said. "I never thought to ask him." He stopped and opened a door. "Here."

It was a closet. "This is a closet," Fuwa said. Fujishiro pushed him inside and closed the door.

There were three brooms and two mops leaning in the corner next to a floor-polishing machine. Five empty buckets in a stack. One on the floor with rags in it. Shelves along the walls filled with other supplies. The air smelled faintly of ammonia. A fluorescent light hummed loudly.

If they were in a cleaning closet, then they couldn't practice PKs. And if they weren't going to practice PKs, then what did Fujishiro want? Possibilities: he wanted to beat up Fuwa, he was playing a prank on Fuwa, he was lost, he was confused, this was a dream.

Fuwa didn't think it was a dream. He looked at the writing on a bottle of soap scum remover, looked away, then looked back. The writing didn't change. So he was awake. Fujishiro had pushed Fuwa, but he hadn't tried to hit him, so it likely wasn't a fight.

If Fujishiro were lost, he wouldn't have gone into the closet after realising what it was. He could be confused. Or it could be a prank. Fuwa remembered overhearing other boys talking about Fujishiro and pranks.

"Why are we here?" Fuwa asked.

"I told you," Fujishiro said. "I want to show you something."

"I know how to clean already," Fuwa said. He looked around the room but didn't see anything that looked like a trap. "Are you playing a joke on me?"

"I hope not," Fujishiro said.

"You're annoying," Fuwa said.

"You're not the first one to say that." Fujishiro grinned.

If they weren't going to practice, then Fuwa could make better use of his time. He reached for the door. Fujishiro grabbed his wrist.

"Wait," he said. "I haven't shown you yet. Aren't you curious?"

"Then show me," Fuwa said.

"Okay, ready?"

"How can I be ready if I don't know what it is?"

"Good point," Fujishiro said. Then he leaned in close to Fuwa, closer than other people usually stood. Fuwa remembered what his mother kept telling him about giving people space and took a step backwards. He bumped into a shelf and a can of furniture polish clattered on the floor.

Fujishiro stepped forward. He leaned in again, even closer than before, so that Fuwa started going cross-eyed. Then Fujishiro pressed his mouth against Fuwa's.

It took at least three seconds for Fujishiro to pull away. It took two of those seconds for Fuwa to realise what was happening: Fujishiro was kissing him.

"There," Fujishiro said. The corners of his mouth were turning up slightly.

"Oh," Fuwa said. This had nothing to do with soccer at all. And it was difficult for Fuwa to understand. Didn't boys usually kiss girls? "I'm not a girl," he said, in case there was some confusion on Fujishiro's part.

Fujishiro laughed. Beside his head, on the shelf behind him, was a can splashed with paint the same shade of green as the trim in the bedrooms. Fuwa looked at it instead of Fujishiro. "Did you like it?" Fujishiro asked.

Fuwa considered. The ammonia smell in the room was bothering his nose. There was a screw on the shelf behind him poking into his back. Fujishiro's mouth had been warm and dry. The touch had given Fujishiro an uncomfortable sensation in his stomach, like the first stirrings of indigestion. "No," he said.

Fujishiro's mouth twisted. "No?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"It made me feel uncomfortable," Fuwa said. But kissing was supposed to be enjoyable. In his head, Fuwa ran tapes of kissing scenes he had seen in TV and movies. Most of those people seemed to be enjoying it. But what a lot of them were doing didn't look like what Fujishiro had done to him. It was more complicated. "Maybe your technique is faulty."

"You're the first one to say that," Fujishiro said.

"Or maybe it's ineffective on another boy."

"Oh, it's effective. You can take my word for it."

"Then you must be performing it incorrectly."

"I don't think so," Fujishiro said. And he did it again.

This time, Fujishiro put his hand on Fuwa's shoulder and tilted his head more to the side. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth so that this kiss was a bit damp.

Fuwa stared at the paint can. This was giving him that uncomfortable feeling again, but to a greater degree. His stomach was quivery. Fujishiro's mouth was moving against his now, pushing at his lips. Fuwa thought about the kissing scenes again. He should open his mouth and move it too.

He tried that, to see if it would make any difference. It did. Now Fujishiro was in contact with more of Fuwa's nerve endings. Along with the quivery feeling, the light friction was giving Fuwa a warming sensation in his lips and also under the skin over the rest of his body. It agitated him but it was also pleasurable. But he wasn't sure why.

After twenty-seven seconds, Fujishiro pulled away. "Not bad," he said. "But it's your performance that needs work, not mine."

"It was unacceptable?"

"It was acceptable." Fujishiro grinned. "But let's just say that I'm in A group and you're in B group."

Fuwa thought about that. It was reasonable that he wasn't completely skilled at kissing the first time he tried it. "How did you learn your technique?" he said. "Is there a reference book I can consult?"

"You're so funny!" Fujishiro clapped Fuwa on the shoulder.

"You didn't answer my question." Fujishiro didn't listen very well.

"It's just practice," Fujishiro said.

Fuwa wouldn't have a chance to look for books or manuals until the camp was over. So for now, he only had this experience to go on. If Fujishiro was an A group kisser, then Fuwa should emulate him.

He put his hand on Fujishiro's shoulder. He tilted his head and opened his mouth and made contact. Then he closed his eyes and moved his lips against Fujishiro's.

It was different with his eyes closed. Without visual stimulation, the tactile stimulation seemed greater. Fuwa concentrated on moving like Fujishiro had moved, keeping his head at the same angle, opening his jaw the same amount.

After fourteen seconds, Fujishiro's tongue slid along Fuwa's lower lip. Fuwa jumped back.

"You didn't like that?" Fujishiro said.

"Why did you introduce a new variable?" Fuwa asked.

Fujishiro's eyes went wide. Then he started to laugh. "A new ... a new variable." He grabbed Fuwa by the shoulders and buried his face in Fuwa's neck. His whole body was shaking.

It was difficult to understand. "Stepwise implementation is the best method to avoid errors," Fuwa said. "A haphazard approach will result in a longer learning period."

"Stepwise implementation," Fujishiro said and laughed some more. Then he straightened up and wiped his eyes. "You were definitely the best choice, Fuwa-kun."

Fuwa wondered if Fujishiro was mentally deficient in some way. He didn't seem to grasp the simplest concepts. But his kissing was enjoyable. Would it be the same with someone else? Fuwa would have to make a study of it.

He might as well collect more data now.

This time Fujishiro didn't use his tongue, which pleased Fuwa. It would be better to begin by analysing the simpler kisses. But at the same time, there was something in another part of his brain that missed it. It was confusing. And it was probably compromising his objectivity.

It was even more confusing when Fuwa found his own tongue reaching for Fujishiro's mouth. When his tongue and Fujishiro's touched, a jolt went through Fuwa that was comparable to a mild electrical shock. It made it difficult to think clearly. His heart rate was elevated but he was having trouble counting the beats. He was breathing more deeply too, and slightly irregularly.

When Fujishiro put his arm around Fuwa's waist and pulled them closer together, Fuwa forgot to think at all. He just opened his mouth wider and put his hand on the back of Fujishiro's neck.

He didn't even know how long the kiss lasted; he could only estimate it at about a minute.

"Sorry for all the variables," Fujishiro said, when they were done. His face was slightly flushed and his pupils were dilated.

"This is more difficult than I anticipated," Fuwa said.

"You'll make A group eventually."

"But I am unable to analyse the experience properly."

"Maybe you can do that later," Fujishiro said. "When you're in bed at night."

That might be a good idea. Fuwa's recall was perfect, so he could examine the data dispassionately at a later time.

"That's what I'm planning to do," Fujishiro said. "Right now, though, we're late for supper." He stepped back and ran his hand through his hair. "But I think there might be time tomorrow for some more practice."

Fuwa nodded. He could process this batch of data tonight and be ready for more.

"And show me that face again," Fujishiro said.

"What face?" Fuwa's face felt normal. Did he look different than usual? There was no mirror to check.

"That's the one." Fujishiro smiled. "Okay, later." He opened the door and left.

Fuwa stood there for a minute. He had a curious feeling of regret now that Fujishiro was no longer in the room. Then he shrugged. He would have to think about that later.

In the dining room, he sat down with Kazamatsuri, Koiwa, and Sugihara. "Fuwa-kun," Kazamatsuri said. "Where were you?"

"Practicing with Fujishiro," Fuwa said.

"Oh, goalkeeping?" Kazamatsuri said.

"No," Fuwa said. "Kissing." The room got very quiet, then much louder. Fuwa wondered why. "Pass the soy sauce," he said and began to eat his supper.
Tags: fic, fuwa, fuwa/fujishiro, whistle!
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