a/n: something that was sitting around in my documents, set sometime during high school.
disclaimer: all rights go to their respective owners.
i.
"This," he says quietly, "Will be the last time."
Shoving the taller boy against the clubroom wall, Shishido growls low in his throat. "Our last time."
Oshitari smirks, grabs onto Shishido's collar, and pulls hard. "Stop talking." He takes his glasses off. Shishido's angry eyes dance like stars burning, fizzing and exploding until finally dyed black in yearning and longing and all the emotions that he should never have felt towards Oshitari.
ii.
They could have had it all.
Shishido punches Oshitari in the gut and takes advantage of the other doubling over to drag his shirt off, nearly strangling Oshitari in the process. A feeling takes place in his throat, trapping all his breaths from leaving. There are marks there on Oshitari's chest—marks he knows he didn't make and of course, this is why this is the last time they are doing this but all the same, he feels like he's drowning and he can't talk at all.
There is a piano playing in Oshitari's head as he snakes his hands up Shishido's sides, the rolling keys like a lilting melody that wholly represent a love so pure and worshipful that only someone like Choutarou could hold, a love so different than the one Oshitari is having, but that's a lie because this isn't love, it can't be. This is an irregular beat, not even a melody, a beat of drums and clashing and Shishido's shirt is wrenched off just as quickly.
They attack each other, crashing into the wall and not caring about the inevitable bruises because they can just say that they were fighting: it's essentially what their sex is. Fighting for dominance and curiosity and lust and to think of sex without fighting between them is impossible.
Oshitari grabs onto the back of Shishido's head, his cap already lying somewhere else. Pulling him in for a kiss too painful to taste, he slides down onto the ground and Shishido's hands scratch against his stomach, leaving scars invisible to all but them.
Gakuto and Choutarou are forgotten, sitting in the back of their minds, and all they can see is each other, scrambling on the floor and undoing pants and suddenly, Shishido punches Oshitari in the gut again and Shishido is crying and breathless and he can't feel, he just can't feel anything anymore and it's supposed to be over but-
A hand grips onto Shishido's chin, and he is pulled into another kiss and there are tears trailing down his chin onto Oshitari's beautiful hands, ultimately landing on the ground and he remembers when they first started doing this, when they first found each other that night, what had been said.
No one will know.
The clubroom knows, the sky knows, he knows, Oshitari knows, how could he say that nobody would know? Shishido clamps down on Oshitari's tongue sharply, and he gets pushed right onto the ground for that one.
This would all be okay except it's not because he isn't Gakuto and Oshitari is not even fucking near Choutarou and they love their boyfriends, they don't love each other, so why are they doing this and Shishido smashes his fist against the floor, cursing because there is nothing else he can do, if they go all the way again like they did before then his thoughts will cloud up of Oshitari and his hands and his mouth and that's just wrong.
Oshitari stands up, calls him a fool, a coward, you stupid bastard and Shishido stands up as well before lunging at Oshitari, tears having dried somewhere along the way and now they are fighting except it's different than their sex fighting because there is a distinct lack of lust, only killing intent and a hint of sadness and Oshitari is digging his fingernails into Shishido's arms and it's leaving marks and fuck.
Shishido grabs ahold of Oshitari's shoulders, he is shorter and more hot-tempered and more often than not the one who seems weaker but he is stronger. So he grabs onto those pale pale shoulders and pushes with all his strength and Oshitari lands, a terrible gasp of pain resounding through the room as he lands against one of the lockers; it's Gakuto's locker and hah, won't he be surprised when he finds there's a dent in it tomorrow and there's also going to be a dent from the slamming of the door because Shishido is running running running, gone.
Oshitari picks himself up only seconds later. He will never stay down because of Shishido. He picks up the other's shirt, tosses it out the window and watches it fluttering in the wind. Outside he can see Shishido run run run and his stomach wrenches and he tastes blood on his tongue: that goddamn Shishido has sharp teeth and Gakuto is going to be absolutely livid when he sees the bruise on his back.
iii.
When they met that night, the moon was out and they were both out of love-luck. They saw each other's worst friend and they looked at each other and took out all the un-necessaries. They took away the rivalries and the abused friendships and the team bonding and the familiar smirks and snarky replies and they looked at each other.
They stripped away their hearts and souls and then they only had one thing left: lust.
iv.
Oshitari still remembers that song that played in his head as they did their first battle for lust and sin and everything they couldn't get out of their respective partners and it plays in his head one more time but this time it won't be repeated again because they could have had it all but they were too deep in it to notice.
v.
The next day, Choutarou puts ointment on his senpai's wounds that had supposedly come from a scrimmage with Shishido's brother and coos and Shishido smiles crookedly until Oshitari walks in with Gakuto hanging all over him and they stare at each other and he fucking swears he almost cries until Oshitari looks away and Shishido never knew that falling in love with the wrong person would be this painful but he looks away as well and doesn't say a word.
In the end, they never so much as stay in each other's company alone again and if Gakuto or Choutarou ever have their doubts, they keep quiet and the bruises and scars are never mentioned, forgotten and buried like all the other secrets.
Love is overrated and they both are happier, would be happier with their loving boyfriends anyways. But as they lie in other people's beds and stare up at the stars they think and they remember and there is nothing hiding it:
they could have had it all.