He was short, noticeably so, but Midousuji-kun – he never forgot to add the -kun – was tall. On his own, Mizuta was nothing, but part of his team he felt like a king. And like anything you idolize he found himself adopting Midousuji-kun's peculiar habits: the fluid and jerking movements, the flash and clack of his perfect teeth – Mizuta picked at his braces; soon – and his eyes were wide.

Nine at night and raining cats and dogs, Mizuta heard the ring of the front bell and opened the door to find his younger filling the doorway with his huge, sodden form. He's here, at my house! His mind half-whispered, half-screamed as he invited the boy in.

He silently wondered how Midousuji had known where he'd lived –he'd never mentioned it out loud – and he informed him "My parents aren't home – "

"Yes, I know. Out for the night, I heard." He'd never said anything about that, hadn't even known til he got home in fact.

He grinned slightly before he continued – his kouhai really was so cool – "Did you need something?"

"Why else would I be here?" His head tilted at an odd angle and he pulled on the edge of his waterlogged shirt.

Two gears clicked into place in Mizuta's head. The first: he should find a towel for the guest making a rather large puddle in the entry way, and the second: Midousuji was likely there for the stash of higher end biking magazines he'd collected, "The magazines, right?" And he moved off in search of the two, tossing a towel in the other's direction before turning to look for the magazines. He stood there with the towel draped over his head, not drying off and tracking water all over the house as he followed the blonde around.

"What are you doing?" Mizuta's ears perked at attention but he didn't turn around.

"Looking for the magazines… That is what you wanted, right?" He didn't have anything else his younger could want or need; he continued his search.

Rummaging through the bookshelf, his breath caught in his throat. Something very cold and bony traced down the top of his neck. The blonde gulped and turned slightly.

"Yes?"

"I did not come for the magazines, Mizuta-kun."

His eyes searched the ceiling as he replied "Bike parts…then? Did you run out of something?"

The finger traced further from his neck down his back and Mizuta stiffened up in reflex. Midoughsuji's face, cold and wet and plastered with his hair, leant over his shoulder from the back and though he could not actually see it, he know those wide, wide, eyes were staring at him.

"I came for you."

A nervous laugh, he licked his braces. "Well… I'm here…" His voice trailed off and picked right back up as another idea dawned on him "Oh! Did you need my help with something, Midousuji-kun?" This was the right answer.

The grin plastered to his cheek widened "Something like that" and his hands slid down Mizuta's sides resting over his hips. "Help is a word for it, I'm sure."

Bony fingers slid farther down his legs and taller boy leaned farther in, wet shirt pressing against the blonde's back and soaking through. Mizuta's breath came in short, shallow breaths as he tried to piece the situation together.

What Midousuji-kun was implying – what he thought he was implying – was something the smaller boy had never actually wanted or thought about. Close friends, "bros" even, but not something this close. As the cool palms traced back up his legs – on the inside, and he gave a slight gasp – he began to question if he could even like a guy. The porn mags stashed under his bed loaded with full-breasted women and lace-and-leather lingerie begged to differ.

Yet he couldn't help but question.

"What do you say?" Mizuta's jaw shifted as he swallowed hard and stayed open while his mind blanked out, was this actually happening or was it just a really weird dream?

"Well, Mizuta…senpai?" The smaller boy's heart trilled at the sound. Ears perking he glanced quickly to his side and elsewhere again and again. "Sen-pai" a whisper in his ear and his heart quickened further. No, not a dream. I would've woken up having a heart attack by now.

"Okay" barely a whisper falling out his metaled teeth.

Stomach tensing as the younger's finger's took their cue and began to slide up inside his shirt, Mizuta wondered if this was okay. He was fit, but not overtly so, and his muscles hid their definitions below soft, shallow pockets – nothing like Midousuji's, which commanded your attention. And worried if it would hurt –he'd heard plenty about guys doing it from girlish whispers in the corner – and his shirt was pulled off over his head.

The blonde's arms fell stiffly back to his sides while the darker haired boy traced lightly over his sides, stomach, chest – eyes widen when they run over his nipples and his gut churns nervously – and up over his collar bones to their edges. Mizuta's heart is beating so loud he doesn't hear Midousuji at first, a faint echo behind walls of questions and questions.

"Mine too."

"W-what?"

"Take mine off too."

"Take off… what?"

He pulled loosely at the hem of his shirt "This."

"Is that okay?" Was he allowed to do something like that?

"I did tell you to, so do it."

Small fingers tugged up on the shirt from the bottom, pulling it up and over the taller boy's head and arms as he crouched slightly to accommodate the height gap. He was thin, bone and muscle near indistinguishable til he moved and then – oh! Watching them move under their pale surface was almost transfixing and Mizuta screamed internally something about not being gay, that this was just fascinating to look at.

He was pulled back as Midousuji's fingers hooked into and pulled down on his pants. And Mizuta pulled back, moving as far in reverse as to his bed, heart skipping beats. He couldn't really do this, he'd never even done with a girl – never even kissed a girl – but he also wanted to please his younger. Beating faster. Was his small self even capable of something like that, could he actually bring pleasure to him?

"What's wrong, Nobu?" His heart trilled faster at hearing his first name – "Do you, perhaps, not like me?" Black bangs peeled slightly off his face as his head turned and he pouted; he'd already closed the gap in long strides, fingers winding loosely over his hip bones.

"I do –I do… but not like… I'm not sure about… I don't know how…" various other excuses rolled half-heartedly off his tongue because he wasn't sure how to voice that it was less about any of those and more about all of those and just who Midousuji was to him – an idol, someone he'd placed on a pedal-stle.

His long face took on a look Mizuta though was caring and he hooked his fingers back in replying "I know what I'm doing, Nobu."

This is Midousuji-kun, I'm very sure he does. But is it okay? With me is it okay? But there's gotta be someone more worth this sort of attention and – that wasn't just my pants he slipped off.

The blonde scrambled to cover himself. He wasn't worth looking at like that. In the club room and the showers it was okay. But here? Now? Like this? Mizuta shook his head, eyes wide as Midousuji continued. Pushing him back onto the bed, leaning into his neck and tracing a wet line from his jaw to the hollow of his neck. The smaller lips trembled. Short, quick, quick, breaths.

He pressed their chests together, fingers winding over his spine as if they were undoing buttons – and Mizuta was fairly certain those buttons were the ones holding his mind in one piece – dry skin sticking to the cooler damper surface. Midousuji's shoulders seemed to be twice as wide as his.

And after a while of touching –being touched, really- and kissing – after each he ran his tongue self-consciously over their metal covers – they worked their way onto the bed, the smaller awkwardly bent over, face buried in the pillows and breath shaking by now. He laughed inwardly – they hadn't actually done anything and he was already so worn out.

"Nobu…" A soft, near coo, in his ear as suddenly without warning the dark haired teen slid in. Mizuta's back arched immediately in pain, his whole body tensing at the foreign, unnatural feel. His small shoulders cramped as he pulled them backwards together, a mixture of a pained groan and a hiss sinking into the pillow.

They were still for a few moments and Mizuta tried to gather himself, barely managing to do so until Midousuji moved again, sending another shot of pain out from below. After a third slide the smaller could take no more and he pulled away – for the first time that night, not caring if the lanky teen got upset. Trembling and heaving, he turned his face into the pillow and wrapped his arms around himself.

"I can't do this."

"Yes you can, you just haven't waited enough. If you relax it will feel fine." He started to lift the boy's hips up again.

He shook his head. "No I can't it hurts too much, pulls too much… can we… I… can we do this some other time, when I'm more ready?" The hands pulling his hips rested lightly on top and his long thin form leaned over to "soothe" him.

"If you don't practice, it will always hurt." He wants to do this more than just this one time?

"I…"

"Just relax, Nobu."

And he began to question if maybe he was just being unreasonable and shortly changed his response of "please let's do this later" to "can we find something to make it easier?" and they managed to locate a bottle of lotion stashed under the bathroom counter.

"I'll start with my fingers this time, ease you into it." The blonde closed his eyes tightly, scrunching his eyebrows nervously as he nodded an "okay."

The fingers felt just as wrong as his dick had, though cooler and less painful. His face, ears, and shoulders boiled red as they wound about inside him "loosening him up" and he buried his face deeper in the sheets. Wait, oh! There!

"Hm?" Midousuji paused at the tensing.

"Something… I… I think you found something -" curling back over that spot "There!" He took a deep, quick breath in and closed his eyes again.

"Here?" and for the next several moments the blonde's body writhed slightly under him while he teased him, back arching, legs kicking, and small, soft, gross, needy sounds slipped out of his mouth. His nervousness died away as he melted into it. He didn't lie, I guess I did just have to relax.

And then he was inside, stretching farther than he'd adjusted and making him wince until that spot was found again. Push. Pull. Push. Pull. Hips working at a pace normally reserved for their legs when they biked, it wasn't awful long until he peaked.

His small frame stiffened up, eyes wide and only half a moan choked out of his lips, head still bumping and sliding along the pillow as the younger continued to his own end. Large eyes focused absentmindedly on his prize. Mizuta rode the waves until the other finished, skeleton frame drooping in exhaustion over his toy. His chest rose and fell quickly and he moved his bangs from his face, fish-lenses finally looking up at their cheap imitations.

"I'll stay here for the night."

Come morning, Mizuta found himself wound in the blankets, almost too hot to be comfortable, and sore down low. He winced and slowly stretched out, finding the bed empty of any but himself. During practice from then on he often found Midousuji staring at him with hungry eyes, and he would always turn away and try to hide himself – he was uncertain if he'd make an appetizing meal.

Author's note:

This piece was actually one I hoped people would read into just a little bit. I tried playing around with "realistic" situations and reactions between what I felt their personalities were. I don't know too much about Mizu quite yet, though, so he might be a little off.