Halrloprillalar (prillalar) wrote,
Halrloprillalar
prillalar

PoT Fic: If The Buses Are On Time (Inui/Yanagi)

I've been working for over a year on my Grand Unified Theory of InuKai. First, I had to get the two of them worked out. Then I had to integrate Momoshiro, which I feel like I've finally been able to do. So next, it's Yanagi. This is my first stab at him. There will be more, as I try to figure him and Inui out.

The One Where Inui and Yanagi Share a Room at Junior Selection Enrichment Camp or

If The Buses Are On Time by Halrloprillalar
Prince of Tennis, Inui/Yanagi, R, 1300 words.
A difference in strategy.


Inui is still writing when Yanagi comes back to the room. There is a towel hanging over Yanagi's shoulder and his hair is wet. The bath closes in twenty minutes, but Inui needs more time to record his observations. He has too much data to easily recall and that is only from their group. If he could split himself into three, then he could--

"Sadaharu," Yanagi says. Yanagi doesn't need to scribble figures in a notebook; his brain will show him anything he's seen, crisp as a photograph, whenever he wants it. Inui has always envied this. "We should have won."

"Yes." They both know their mistakes, their miscalculations and errors. There is no need to discuss. Inui should feel badly over it, but instead he is just glad for a chance to play doubles together again. He adds points to a graph and draws a curve through them. If they had played three sets instead of one, there is a 73% chance they would have won.

Yanagi walks over to his bed. He stands beside it, his back to Inui, and dries his hair with the towel. "He's waiting for you," Yanagi says. "He looked up every time someone came in." Of course Yanagi sees this.

Of course Inui doesn't pretend otherwise. "We didn't arrange to meet," he says. He plans to wake early, see if he can find Kaidoh in the morning before the others are up and have a few quiet words. About the camp, about nothing.

"You're waiting." Yanagi turns and looks at Inui.

And it's true. Inui is still waiting for the right moment with Kaidoh, calculating and re-calculating his chances of success, trying to find the perfect time to speak up, to move beyond a few brief smiles and touches. There are so many factors to consider: if they are alone, if they are at school, if it is evening, if Kaidoh is hungry, if Inui is tired, if Kaidoh is silent, if the buses are on time, if the moon is gibbous.

"That's not a good strategy," Yanagi says. He comes over and stands in front of Inui, close enough that Inui can smell harsh soap and damp skin.

"What do you suggest?" Inui says. Yanagi's fingers close around Inui's wrist, so tightly it hurts.

"Don't wait." And Yanagi leans in and puts his mouth against Inui's.

Inui drops his notebook and pen. Blood rushes up under his skin, his joints lock in place. He's not just surprised, he's surprised to be surprised, shocked that he had no idea this would happen, not a glimmer, not an inkling.

And he's shocked that he's kissing Yanagi back, opening his mouth, closing his eyes.

Yanagi tilts them both and they topple onto Inui's bed. Inui pulls off his glasses and they kiss again, more, still. Inui has never thought about this before, not with Yanagi, never considered how it might feel.

It's hard to think about it now. Yanagi pushes his knee between Inui's thighs and Inui gets his hand up the back of Yanagi's shirt. They kiss until it's hard to breathe, suck in air, and kiss some more.

Yanagi rolls up so he's half on top of Inui. He's heavier than he looks and his body is almost cold, like there's metal just under his skin. Yanagi kisses as well as he does everything else and Inui wonders who taught him, how much he's practised.

The bed is narrow and Inui is sliding off. He pushes Yanagi over and they lie side by side in a tangle. Inui's shirt is riding up and Yanagi tugs it further, runs his hand up Inui's chest. Inui has his fingers on Yanagi's neck, his mouth on Yanagi's face.

Inui's brain can only manage half-thoughts now, and most of those are open wider, move closer, more. There's a vague feeling of unease but it's nearly drowned out by the clamour.

"Off," Yanagi says and Inui lifts his arms and lets his shirt go. Yanagi loses his as well and they roll together again, almost to the edge of the bed, Inui on top. Skin to skin, Yanagi still feels cool, or maybe Inui is just hot. Inui kisses Yanagi again, slides his tongue along Yanagi's lip. Yanagi touches Inui's back, his waist, then grabs his ass and pulls them closer still.

Inui's breath stutters, he lifts his head and opens his eyes. Yanagi's are open too and now they are looking at each other, centimeters away, hardly blinking. Their chests heave against each other, not quite in rhythm. Inui feels caught by Yanagi's stare, trapped like an insect pinned to a card, even if he struggles, he can't move away.

But Inui doesn't want to move away. He leans into Yanagi and they rock together, hard against each other, moving to find the best friction, the best angle for contact. This is several orders of magnitude better than doing for himself and Inui is almost dizzy from all the messages his nerve endings are sending to his brain.

Yanagi is breathing roughly, his open mouth half-pressed to Inui's face. Inui is hardly breathing at all. His back arches, he thrusts once more, and then he's coming, a throbbing noise in his ears and a sensation of falling.

When he catches his breath, Inui finds he's lying on the ground and someone is knocking at the door. His elbow hurts. He must have banged it on something. His pants are stained. Yanagi is sitting on the bed, looking down at him. The vague feeling of unease blossoms into guilt, into shame. This is not what Inui is supposed to be doing. Or rather, not who Inui is supposed to be doing this with. Only it was so good.

There's another knock. Yanagi shrugs and lies back on Inui's bed. Inui stands. He's shaky and he tightens his calf muscles to force blood up into his brain. He finds his glasses. The towel is lying on Yanagi's bed and Inui drapes it across himself. Then he answers the door.

It's Fuji. He has a printed schedule for them and he gives it to Inui with raised eyebrows and a hint of a smile. "The bath is closed now," he says and leaves. Inui wonders what he's guessed.

More than Inui has, maybe. How, how did Inui not anticipate this? What is he going to do? And what does he want to do?

He turns back to the room. Yanagi is watching him. "Renji," Inui says. They look at each other and Inui has that same feeling of being pinned down. Then Yanagi rolls over, his back to Inui.

"Good night," he says.

Inui stands there for a while. There is a toilet and sink just off their room and he tries to wash the stain out of his trackpants. He thinks he's got it all, but he won't know until it dries. He changes and gets into the other bed.

"Renji," he says again, into the darkness. There's no answer. A wave of nausea hits him and he draws his knees up to his chest. He wants to weigh his options, but his brain is a mess, everything is scrambled, he can't get as far as "if". All he can see are stabbing glimpses of one face, then the other. His fingers curl into the sheet. His elbow still hurts. He can't tell where his thoughts leave off and his dreams begin.

Inui sleeps late in the morning. When he wakes up, Yanagi isn't there. Inui goes to dress.

The stain is gone.
Tags: fic, inui/yanagi, tenipuri
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