"Buchou," Echizen says and grins. He only calls Kaidoh that when he wants something, one thing, and Kaidoh picks up his bag.
"I'll leave the rest to you," Kaidoh says to Momoshiro and looks away before he can see Momoshiro's face change.
They leave the restaurant, the noise, the team. It's not far back to school and they walk side by side, not speaking. Kaidoh thinks with half his brain about the matches, hard-won from Fudomine. Even Echizen had to wake up in his match with Ibu and that's why he's sparking now, fizzing like a firework. Kaidoh walks faster.
When they get there, he can't fit the key into the lock. He's uneasy, always, when they're here, but the buzz on his skin, the roar in his ears is too loud and he can't hear, feel, want anything else.
"Need help?" Echizen says, but Kaidoh tries again and the door opens.
"The window," Kaidoh says and Echizen pulls him down onto the floor. There's an orange flyer underneath the cubbies, covered with dust. The keys fall from Kaidoh's hand, club key, house key, bike key, jangling onto the cement. Echizen rolls up beside Kaidoh and his eyes are lamps in the dim of the room.
Kaidoh breathes but there's not enough air. He's dizzy, spinning, hand on Echizen's back, up underneath his clothes. "Ah," Echizen says, a noise or a word. Kaidoh's fingers crawl higher, between Echizen's shoulder blades. It's hard to tell when they're scrabbling together on the floor, but Echizen is almost as tall as Kaidoh now, his hair is almost as long.
Echizen laughs, Kaidoh shivers, lets the sound out of his throat. Echizen rocks closer, hand on Kaidoh's dick, rubbing him through his pants. It's so good, like being crushed in a press, like being eaten from the inside out. Echizen gets his hand down inside, brushing Kaidoh's balls, stroking his dick once up the underside, pressing his thumb just under the head. Kaidoh's dick jerks, his whole body jerks, he hits his chin on Echizen's forehead. He comes.
When he's empty, Kaidoh falls onto his back, waits to breathe, almost sinks through the floor. He doesn't close his eyes and he watches Echizen watching him. Echizen boosts himself onto the bench.
Kaidoh counts to ten, sucks in air, pulls himself up. He kneels in front of Echizen. He undoes Echizen's pants.
Echizen doesn't like boys like Kaidoh likes boys. Echizen doesn't look at Kaidoh like Kaidoh looks at him, like Kaidoh used to look at boys whose names he tries hard not to think about now. Kaidoh takes Echizen's dick in his mouth because that's the best way to forget.
And Kaidoh likes cock. He's given up trying not to and now he just lets himself enjoy it, mouth open, fingers teasing, knees aching on the cold floor. Echizen is cut and that took some getting used to, more work with the tongue, but good, really good.
Echizen leans back, closes his eyes, clenches his hands. Kaidoh is in control, the only time he has the upper hand, the only way he can give Echizen something that he wants. Five more minutes and Kaidoh will be hard again.
When Echizen comes, his face is blank and pale, like he's dead for a few seconds. Kaidoh takes all the jizz, slippery and nearly sweet, and rolls it around in his mouth. He wants to push his tongue between Echizen's lips and give it back to him. He leans back and spits into a tissue.
Kaidoh doesn't look at Echizen while they clean up. He lets Echizen leave first and then he sits for a moment on the bench, holding his keys in his fist so they leave a red mark on his palm. He fills in the win on the tournament chart. He leaves the room and locks the door behind him.
Momoshiro is waiting outside. "You bastard," he says and steps in, hand raised. Kaidoh lets Momoshiro take a free shot, a hard blow on the jaw that staggers him. The keys fall again. Kaidoh keeps his hands at his sides, waiting for the next one.
Momoshiro hits the wall instead. "Why?"
"I don't know," Kaidoh says. He picks up the keys. His jaw aches but he doesn't touch it.
Momoshiro rubs his fist. "That's what he said."
Kaidoh tries to imagine that conversation, wonders if Echizen was sullen or cheeky. "Are you going to hit me again?"
"Are you going to hit me back?"
"No," Kaidoh says and the dull anger on Momoshiro's face sinks into Kaidoh, a stone in his belly, grey and heavy.
"It's not okay," Momoshiro says. "You bastard." And he leaves.
Kaidoh walks home, not even jogging, and when he gets up to his room, he beats off, thinking about nobody at all.
Comments of any kind are always welcome.