AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is my first time to post a RuMit and it's a lemon. Well, not really. A lime-on. -.- Anyway, this is a rewrite, the previous version sucks (I sure hope this one doesn't) so I didn't post it. I'm more confident with this one. Please enjoy.

And yes, I know that Mitsui's not really graduating with the other seniors, as said in the Okita OVA. But, hey, what the hell. Let's assume that it's his last day in Shohoku, OK?

Graduation Gift

by Kumagoro Meowzaki

This is my last chance.

His fingers opened and closed, anxious for Akagi to finish his farewell speech. His gaze is fixed at one figure, seemingly standing out from everyone else.

Even with his back facing him, he could still picture the face in his mind: fierce blue eyes, strong nose, scarred chin. He had been staring at it for too long, too many times as he would allow. Although he couldn't remember when he'd started staring.

He counted the minutes. Akagi was the last. Soon, everyone would bid the seniors farewell. And all except him would be teary-eyed.

He sighed. Akagi was done. He clapped his hands absentmindedly, his heart beating painfully against his ribcage. His ears suddenly blocked out sound.

Then HE turned around, smiled at him. His eyes were dangerously wet. He opened his mouth to speak, raised his hand. But HE had already turned back before he had the chance.

He pursed his lips. He didn't even get to bow.

His chance was gone.

It was dusk. He felt he'd been standing there outside the gym for hours. His knees were slightly wobbling. His head was throbbing.

He knew who it was just by the rhythm of the bouncing ball and the swoosh of it going into the ring. He'd listened to that every time they'd played, and he knew it well now, enough.

It was starting to get dark. He stared at the gym doors, wondering if they'd open if he glared hard enough. He counted to ten, but they did not open.

So he did, and entered just as the other was making a shot. Three points in, he knew by his form, his fierce smile.

"Didn't think I'd see you so soon."

He snorted. He walked towards the ball, while the other watched him. He gave it a couple of test bounces, following the beat of his heart. He looked down at the ball. He blinked. He cast his eyes, slowly, at the other.

Bounce, bounce, the ball came. His feet moved, one step, two. The other just watched, hands on waist.

Bounce, bounce the ball came. He stopped just looking at the other in the face. Then he passed it, not blinking as he watched the ball go straight into ready hands.

"You're on, Rukawa."

They lie spread-eagled on the gym floor, fingers but inches from each other, as he was painfully aware. Their chests heaved with each breath, each painful breath.

He didn't know when it had started to become painful.

Breathing was exhausting. He closed his eyes. The gym lights crept into his eyelids.

"Good game."

He nodded, speechless.

"Your stamina's better now."

From the corner of his blue eyes, he could see him staring at the ceiling, mouth open, chest rising and falling.

"Mitsui-sempai."

It did not tremble. It was low and clear, with no trace of hesitation. His fingers opened and closed, just as they had on graduation morning. He was standing now. He cast a shadow on the other's body.

The wind blew, dramatically rustling the leaves of the trees outside. He let out a long breath.

"Suki da."

The wind was sharp against his cheeks as he pedaled as fast as he could. His eyes were open; sleep was not possible in his situation.

He had been brave enough to say it because HE was leaving. He wouldn't see him anymore, not in the near future at least. But he left right after saying it, faster than the speed of thought. He was out even before the other could call him back. He didn't wait for an answer, didn't need one. He just wanted some peace of mind.

And he had it, finally.

He slowed down a little. He could see his apartment building a few blocks away.

He sighed.

The fridge was empty. He didn't remember eating a lot; neither did he remember going to the supermarket. Not recently. He rolled his blue eyes, sighed, cursed his hunger.

He sat on the couch and turned on the TV. He decided to get food later; it was raining outside. Mini Stop was open 24 hours anyway. He could wait a little.

There was nothing to watch but romance dramas. He yawned, stretched, and turned the TV off. Sleep came quickly to him in his exhaustion and hunger.

He closed his eyes.

Then the doorbell rang. Once, and his eyelids quiver. He didn't know of anyone who would call upon him. Twice, and blue eyes peeked at the clock. Thrice, four times, it was difficult to ignore.

He growled, rubbed his eyes and stomped barefoot towards the door. The doorbell was still ringing in his head. He could hear the shower as he approached the door. The doorbell rang for the fifth time and he pulled the door open, annoyed.

Mitsui was standing in the hallway, against a background of blue and silver. He was dripping, his hair plastered down by the water, his clothes clinging to his skin.

"You didn't wait, idiot."

The moment felt like the romance drama Rukawa had been absently watching earlier. It was almost funny and he would have laughed if he wasn't himself.

"Wait for what?"

And Mitsui, water and all, grabbed his hand and tugged so strongly that their lips collided, not wholly intentionally.

Time didn't freeze like in the romance drama. Each moment deeply impressed itself in Rukawa's mind, and the water between their lips would make it clearer—that it happened in summer rain, not cherry blossoms, not snow, not maple leaves. And they were under a concrete roof, not an umbrella, not a tree, not the sky.

They kissed in the hallway, against a background of blue and silver.

Clothes slid like snakeskin, dry and wet in turn. Limbs and fingers, long and strong and sure, tore, grasped, held. Lips and teeth and tongue clashed, hungered, claimed.

"Have respect for your sempai," Mitsui growled. Pinning Rukawa against the bedroom door. He kissed him again, briefly but fiercely.

"But this is my house, and you wet my floor."

"Good point," Mitsui said, smiling as he let himself be pushed by lips and arms to the wall.

They kissed again, between the sheets, hands searching, keeping in place. And they kissed more than lips, face, neck, shoulders, chest, arms, fingers, thighs...

They paused only for breath, and to check if one was ready to submit to the other. But each time, they found themselves looking at each other's unyielding faces. And they'd starts again, like bear cubs in a playful wrestle.

"Give up already, Rukawa."

Rukawa looked up from Mitsui's chest. "Why should I?"

Mitsui sat up, supporting his weight on his elbow. "Two things," he said, putting up two fingers at Rukawa's face. "one: I am sempai. Two: I make the three-pointers, not you."

Rukawa slid his hand along Mitsui's leg. "How about your knee? Can it last?" His hand lingered suggestively on his injured knee.

Mitsui brought his face an inch from Rukawa's. "Nice try, rookie," he said, taking Rukawa's hand from his leg and placing it on the bed. "Since when were you concerned about my health?"

"Anyway," he continued, sitting up straighter. He cupped Rukawa's face in his hands. "where's the lube?"

"What?" Rukawa asked, but failed to cover the puzzled look on his face. He realized his mistake, but it was too late.

"My point exactly."

They filled the room with hoarse sounds, little screams, and long moans. Flesh upon flesh, flesh in flesh, they sang. And their bodies, slick with rain, sweat, and oil, moved to each note.

Mitsui thrust into Rukawa, building a steady rhythm. Rukawa memorized each stroke and soon he learned Mitsui's beat, just as he had learned his rhythmic dribbling. Eventually, he answered with his body and did so, whether slow or hard or fast.

"Ahh—sempai," Rukawa breathed, clawing at Mitsui's back, digging his heels into his skin, squeezing his body with his thighs. Mitsui answered with a low grunt and a strong thrust.

Mitsui looked into Rukawa's face and was surprised at the emotion revealed there. There was pain, there was ecstasy, there was need. There was so much and it overwhelmed him and took him further in. He kissed that face, the closed eyes, the sweaty forehead, the fleshy cheeks, the trembling mouth. He buried his face into Rukawa's neck and thrust harder, faster.

"Sempai..sempai..."

Mitsui thrust, driven to the peak by Rukawa, his body, his voice, his need.

"Rukawa!" With a loud cry, he came deep inside Rukawa's body, muscles taut to the limit as he did so. It was a long release, not like any that he had in a long time. It took a while to regain his senses and his breath and when he did, he felt hard flesh against his belly.

"What the--?" he cursed, shock clear in his voice. He pulled out and looked beneath him. "We're supposed to finish together, shithead!" He fell, exhausted, into Rukawa's chest.

A vague little twitch dance on Rukawa's lips. He almost found it funny, but he didn't laugh nor smile. He just let the little twitch dance on his lips. "Can't help it, my stamina's fixed now," he said, rolling over and pinning Mitsui's body with his own.

Mitsui groaned, his breath echoing on Rukawa's skin. "I can tell."

"Ah—ah—damm—unh—Rukawa--"

Mitsui felt no regret as he let himself be taken by Rukawa. He gripped the headboard, sure that he'll break off a big piece of it. Rukawa was behind him, thrusting with such force, it seemed to break the bed.

Rukawa bent, pulling himself deeper. He buried his nose in Mitsui's hair, smelling rain water, sweat and sex. He held Mitsui tighter and thrust more forcefully, making Mitsui gasp.

Rukawa listened to Mitsui's cries, his chants, his moans. He listened as they became higher, hoarser, longer, louder. He moved to the sound of Mitsui's voice, that low rumble which he liked to hear so much. He let himself be led by that sound, be guided to go slower or faster as the sound made him.

"Ru...kawa..."

They were close, they both knew. They were loud too, they knew.

"Unh—unh—fuck—ah--"

Rukawa squeezed his eyes shut, his heart racing, his heat rising. Finally he came, crying Mitsui's name, pulling his body against him. It was his first time to come inside another's body and it felt good, exhilarating.

Mitsui's fingers slid off the headboard, opening and closing on the pillows. His vision was still out of focus after releasing for the second time that night.

"Impressive,"he said, as the other rolled onto the space beside him. "Sure you were a virgin?"

"You taught me well."

Mitsui laughed. "Of course. I was team captain once."

"Me too."

"Sure explains a lot."

The rain had stopped. It was quiet outside except for the slow drip-drip of water from the roof and the roar of the occasional vehicle.

Rukawa rose from the bed, carefully disengaging himself from Mitsui's limbs. He heard his stomach rumble and he remembered not having dinner. He looked in disbelief at Mitsui, naked and asleep. Barely two hours ago, they had been playing in the school gym, and now...

He picked up their clothes and tossed them into the laundry basket. Three points, he thought.

The sheets rustled and the bed creaked. "Can I use the shower after you?" Mitsui asked sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

Rukawa snorted, the closest he could to a laugh. "Funny you don't want to shower with me, scrub my back or something," he remarked, flipping on the bathroom switch.

Mitsui grinned. "Was hoping you'd invite me."

Rukawa snorted again. "You wish." He scanned the mess that was his bedroom. No matter, he thought. He had spare sheets anyway.

And Mitsui to mess them up again.

He smiled as he closed the door. It was not his last chance after all.

OWARI