In Mind

by Ceile

Ryousuke is ready to announce that his new team will be called Project D. Unfortunately, during the time spent training his brother Keisuke & Takumi in preparation, he can't seem to get the young Downhiller out of his mind. Will a plan to seek relief in the arms of another help him to give up the pointless fantasy? RyouTaku...sort of. M because yaoi. Set between 3rd & 4th Stage

A/N Hello, Readers, please read this Note:

Obviously I don't own anything but my own fantasy. This is an M rated story for the yaoi and for some language, but it pales in comparison to some other stuff that's still available on this site and that is still being added; I watched the site for a while before posting this one to see what type of content was truly being restricted and came to the conclusion that not much really is after all. There are a few newish stories (not necessarily in this fandom) that I've read recently that have a lot of graphic citrus, so I feel that this story is milder than a lot of what's currently available here. But, please exercise your freedom of choice if you would prefer not to read a yaoi fic. If this fic gets reported, so be it, but it's purely a fangirl fantasy, so please do not take it too seriously (even if I take my shipping/fangirling very seriously!). A draft of this story was posted a long time ago on my locked LJ (I know, dead space, right?), so there *may* be a handful of people still lurking around for IniD fics for whom this story may seem familiar; it's been edited a little bit since, not terribly much, but Ryousuke's still not particularly likable in this story. I guess I just can't get enough of that guy's potential to be a total asshole at times (lolz). Anyway, if it is familiar to some people, that author Ceilechan and this author Ceile are one and the same person, Me. If I don't get asked to take this down, then I may start posting the main longfic story that was the original inspiration for all of my Initial D fics, including this one. Pretty much all my one-shots started out as deleted chapters of that story anyway. I humbly thank you for reading "In Mind", if you choose to do so.

In Mind

"Aniki, I'm coming in," declared Takahashi Keisuke as he normally did whenever he wanted to enter his brother's bedroom. If he knocked at all, it was only for show; the announcement of his arrival was pretty much all the warning his elder brother ever received anymore. But, that was more than all right.

"Sure."

Takahashi Ryousuke swiveled around in his desk chair, crossed his legs, and watched his younger brother make himself at home on the bed.

"So?" the fake-blonde brother demanded eagerly.

"Hmm? 'So' what, Keisuke?" Ryousuke gently asked, though he knew exactly what was on his brother's mind.

"Don't be like that. Prick," he added playfully. "You know exactly what I want to know."

Ryousuke smirked a little. "All right, Keisuke. You've been pretty patient lately. For you."

"Tch."

The sound was meant to show irritation, but the younger's face lit up with childlike excitement anyway, reminiscent of those times spent as children years ago in this cozy bedroom playing with toy cars or building blocks, or, that one time Ryousuke allowed his brother to use Play-Doh, when he promptly managed to grind it into the cream-colored carpet where it stuck and then dried into crusty bits. He had spent a week picking at the annoying blemish in his tidy living quarters until the housekeeper had arrived to clean the gunk off his floor; he supposed he had been a tad OCD even then. But now, it was a fond memory and not an annoyance, and he treasured moments with Keisuke that reminded him of those days, because, in a year, and if they were successful with the new team, he knew his drivers both would be taken far away when the world would become their stage.

"Well, how was it tonight?" the younger pressed, "Hurry up and tell me!"

"You both were very fast tonight; the data was excellent."

"I don't give a shit about the data! I want to know if we're ready!"

Ryousuke cast a sideways glance toward his computer monitor before making his reply. The data for the night was still displayed upon it. "Why don't you look at the computer, and tell me what you think?"

"Because I still don't understand half of those graphs and stupid equations. Stop being so damn stingy for once in your life and tell me plainly yes or no. Are. We. Ready?"

The words were spoken deliberately. Perhaps, Ryousuke thought, he shouldn't enjoy torturing the Otouto so much, but he couldn't help himself. They were brothers, united by a passion for the street and for the deep bond that they shared. For a time, that bond had all but dissolved into Keisuke's dangerous adolescence spent cruising the streets as a senior member of a bosozoku gang, but, with persistence and a full throttle downhill run of desperation on the Akagi togue, Ryousuke had reclaimed his brother. Now, there was no one toward whom Ryousuke felt closer and more at ease. No one.

"Okay, Keisuke."

The other leaned forward.

"We're ready."

Keisuke closed his eyes and a wide grin graced his lips. "Yes!" he whispered more to himself than to his brother. Opening his eyes once again he asked, "So, when do we move?"

"I'll tell the whole team tomorrow when we meet."

The FD driver scowled. "What? Just tell me now!"

"Keisuke, this is a team. Just because you live here with me doesn't mean you will always get a 'sneak preview' of our expeditions. You'll find out the important details when everyone else does."

The younger Rotary Brother just snorted, pulling a little on the drawstrings of his hoody. "By 'everyone else', I guess you mean him."

Ryousuke closed his eyes for a second. "Don't start that again, Otouto. You, of all people, should know well why that guy is on my team."

"Yeah. But that doesn't mean I have to like him. He's...weird."

The elder chuckled once. "I wonder what he must think of you," he said calmly, knowing already what the outcome of his comment would be.

As predicted, Keisuke bolted up from the bed and let himself out to the balcony. Ryousuke followed him, pulling on a sweater against the chill of a not-quite-summer evening. He observed as his brother retrieved a cigarette from a pack stowed in one of a plethora of mostly-useless pockets in his cargo pants and lit it with his Zippo. "You want one, Aniki?"

"I quit," Ryousuke answered softly. He really did want one. He'd put an end to the habit a couple of months earlier, and had been asking himself why ever since. Especially lately. What he wouldn't give for a calming drag of a cigarette...

"I still can't believe you did."

"I guess."

"Whatever, more for me. Don't turn into one of those annoying holier-than-thou ex-smokers either."

"I'll just live vicariously through you for now, and let you continue the bad habit for both of us."

Keisuke laughed once, then his expression turned sour again. "You know, I think that Fujiwara is psycho. You think he has some kind of split personality or something?"

Ryousuke exhaled into the crisp night air. "Maybe," he answered simply, thinking he should have put on more than just a light sweater for the outdoor chat. Honestly, the young driver captivated him. If he had to be brutally honest with himself, the driver known as Fujiwara Takumi had captivated him way too much. Not only was he the only racer who had managed to break his winning streak, beat Keisuke twice, and do it all in a car that should have been unable to compete, the young man was a complete mystery. 'And, he's gorgeous,' Ryousuke added mentally, but he quickly pushed the notion aside. No. He wasn't supposed to be doing that anymore. Didn't he leave that behind along with the cancer sticks already? Wasn't that what he told himself was the right thing to do?

Everything had been planned and projected, his thoughts resigned to his picture-perfect future as the next heir to the Takahashi fortune. Acceptance of it had been barely bittersweet; it hadn't even really been difficult once the decision had been made. Then, Fujiwara appeared. The impact the young man had on him as a racer was intense, and his laid-back, often spacey persona only added to his strange allure. It was maddening.

Outwardly, Fujiwara seemed reserved, shy even. Around other people, he often seemed to exude discomfort. Ryousuke had invited the driver for his new team, desiring that street technique that was an example of his theory of Fastest Speed on Public Roads in shocking purity. He was a monster behind the wheel; of that there was no doubt. The only thing more astonishing than that was his ability to absorb information and knowledge and immediately apply it.

"You think he's retarded, Aniki?"

"What?" Ryousuke asked, chastising himself for not hearing the question. Whenever he allowed himself to think about Fujiwara, it was so tough to keep it professional. But, he had no choice in the matter. It was his own idea to train the young man, to finance him, to have him become the downhill driver of the team that he was about to announce would be called "Project D."

It was supposed to be about his technique. Period.

"I asked you if you think Fujiwara's a retard. Don't tell me his spacing out is rubbing off on you?!"

Ryousuke rolled his eyes in annoyance. "He's not retarded."

"But, God, Aniki, he's," Keisuke faltered, "so...weird!" he finished with an exasperated groan. "Couldn't you have picked someone else?"

The otouto knew the question was pointless before he even asked it, but Ryousuke wasn't surprised to hear it. "No. No one else would work. End of discussion, Keisuke."

"Fuck."

The other chuckled again, the second hand smoke from the cigarette making it very hard for him not to ask his brother for one.

"I know he's good," Keisuke whispered after he exhaled. "Real good. But, I don't really like him."

"Why?"

"Because I don't get him!" he replied hotly.

Ryousuke considered his brother's words for a moment. "I'm not surprised that you won't admit it," he said calmly.

"Admit what?" grumbled the brother of source, taking another vehement drag of his cigarette.

"That you and he are very much alike and you know it."

"Bullshit."

"Is it?" Ryousuke challenged the sibling with a skeptical look.

"You suck," his brother declared. "I don't believe that for one second."

"If you think about it carefully, Keisuke, you know it's true."

"Since when was I ever good at thinking," the younger muttered, putting his cigarette out and making his way back through the sliding door to his brother's room.

Ryousuke laughed softly and he saw his brother scowl at the laptop on the desk. "You'll be good for each other in ways you probably don't understand yet. But, you are getting the idea by now, aren't you?"

"I still don't like him," he commented with a shrug.

"You don't have to be his Nii-chan," the elder playfully supplied.

"As if!" the FD driver strongly retorted. "That puppy is right out of high school. I used to eat brats like that for a midnight snack," he said with another snort. "That kid doesn't know the half of it."

"That's probably a good thing," Ryousuke commented sternly. "But, so far, I don't see that you've beaten him into submission. Not that I think he wouldn't put up a fight if you tried," he remarked, half-jokingly.

"Tch."

"Do me a favor, and don't make your little pissing contest too obvious, will you?"

"I'm not in a pissing contest with someone like that!" Keisuke asserted, though Ryousuke could tell that was just what it was. The rivalry between them would push them, and it was plain for Ryousuke to see, even if it was still probably more vague in the minds of the two drivers he had chosen as Aces.

"I'm glad to hear that," Ryousuke affirmed with a squeeze to his brother's shoulder. "Don't worry about a thing. This team will be legendary. You will be legendary."

"Aniki..." the younger breathed, shaking loose from the rare display of affection. "I still don't get him. He's a complete idiot outside of a damn car. How the fuck does he do it?"

Ryousuke sighed, sitting back down in his chair and glancing at the data on his computer screen once more. How indeed? That was one of the many objectives of Project D: he wanted to understand that technique completely. What was it, exactly, that made Fujiwara Takumi and the hachi-roku he drove so special? What was that special element, the "X" factor that Fujiwara had which Keisuke, and even he himself, didn't have? He was starting to piece it together slowly, but he had the nagging idea that it was some kind of athletic zone which might not ever be fully understood. It bothered him that there could be someone out there who presented a series of scenarios for which standard logic and mathematical projections simply couldn't explain. It was bothersome, and intriguing. Ryousuke took a breath. "I don't know exactly how either, Keisuke."

"Are you for real?" his brother whispered.

"Yeah. All I can say is that guy's driving is like watching art in motion. I intend to watch it very carefully until we're finished."

Keisuke gave him an odd look. "You told me something like that once before. You were gushing about his driving being a 'thing of beauty' or some shit. I think that's a little too generous," he replied, pouting a little.

"You disagree?" the eldest asked quietly. Had he really been "gushing"? Maybe he should keep his comments to himself in the future. No need to complicate things any more than they already were.

"That's what pisses me off the most. I have to agree, and it sucks," the sibling muttered, almost under his breath. "You know, he looks like sixteen instead of nineteen, so it makes it even feel worse to have been beaten by him. It's like getting your ass kicked by a junior high schooler."

"I don't think he looks quite that young," Ryousuke whispered, almost to himself. Unfortunately, he didn't exactly believe in the truth of his own statement. Fujiwara did look young for his age, especially when he wasn't behind the wheel. That was something else that made things difficult. At least Ryousuke knew that he was, in fact, nineteen. He wasn't a kid...entirely. No, he was grown. He was...stop. Stop. He was the Downhill Ace. With a Baby Face. 'Oh dear God,' he groaned inwardly to himself. It looked like this night might be a good night for another cold shower.

"Well, whatever," Keisuke said dismissively. "I guess I'll be dealing with him for a year, so I better suck it up."

"I'm sure he probably figures he'll have to 'deal' with you, too."

"Yeah. I guess," the younger replied, heading toward the door. "You sure you won't give me a little hint as to where we'll be going?"

"Not a chance," Ryousuke admonished with a smirk, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Figures. Prick," came the muttered reply. "That's all right as long as you keep him in the dark too."

"Get some rest , Keisuke. It's already almost midnight. We'll meet tomorrow evening as planned, okay?"

"Yeah," the otouto affirmed with a yawn. "You worked us hard tonight, friggin' slave driver. I haven't been this tired this early in a long time."

Ryousuke half-smiled. "Good night."

"What about you, Aniki? You turning in too?"

"No," the med-student replied with a sigh, "I want to look over the data once more, and I have a couple of chapters to read for my lecture tomorrow."

Keisuke nodded. "Guess it's another all-nighter for you then, huh?"

"Probably."

"Okay. See you tomorrow, then. Don't kill yourself."

"Okay."

With that, Keisuke left the room and closed the door behind him. Shortly thereafter, the house fell silent again save for the gentle whirring of the computer on the desk. The data was incredibly promising, and the tuning done by the mechanics Tomiguchi and Matsumoto, specifically recruited for Project D, was exceeding expectations.

Also exceeding expectations were the Double Aces, Keisuke and Fujiwara, for that his what he had dubbed them. Project D would not back down from a challenge, and, using the two different approaches the Aces brought to the table, Ryousuke was sure that this final year of involvement with illegal street racing would bring him the glory that the Red Suns had failed to capture, even with him as its Number One. His theory of Fastest Speed on Public Roads was about a year away from being proven to be fact. It was extremely exciting, and, admittedly, self-satisfying. Even if he couldn't do it himself, Keisuke and Fujiwara could. They would.

They would live his Dream.

Ryousuke clicked his way from reviewing Keisuke's data to reviewing the hachi-roku. Every time they had a practice session, Fujiwara Takumi showed him something new. It was as if the boy was in possession of some kind of ethereal gift, one that allowed for him to excel and learn technique at an astonishing rate. Maybe Keisuke had been right, in a way, calling him a "ghost" that one summer ago.

"Where the hell did you come from, Fujiwara?" Ryousuke whispered to the computer screen. Even though he had been working closely with the son of the tofu vendor for the last few months, what he actually knew about him was pitifully little. Fujiwara Takumi was incredibly stingy about personal information, and their conversations, if one could even call them conversations, were mainly one-sided, with Ryousuke acting as mentor and Fujiwara the mentored who hung on his every word.

Of course, Ryousuke had to admit he was flattered by that; the stroking of his ego was always nice. Sure, Keisuke would listen to him when it came to driving. But, being a brother, he didn't hesitate to make his opinions known. Fujiwara only listened. Absorbed. Performed. Ryousuke and his old friend Fumihiro had invited him several times to grab a bite to eat after practice, but Fujiwara always declined, begging his early morning tofu delivery as the reason. Keisuke was always more than happy to let him go, but Ryousuke found that he felt like he was missing chances, opportunities, to figure out the shy young man from Shibukawa. He was sure there had to be a completely different side to the younger man. How else could he battle the togue with such intense tenacity? How else could Fujiwara have beaten Keisuke? Sudou Kyouichi? Takahashi Ryousuke himself, the famed White Comet of Akagi? There had to be something lurking just beneath the surface with Fujiwara, and Ryousuke lamented every one of those missed opportunities to try and see it firsthand.

However, since Ryousuke assumed that the early morning was his main practice time on Akina, he thought it wasn't his place to deter Fujiwara from attacking the Akina togue as often as he wished. Again, it was self-serving. The more Fujiwara practiced on Akina, the better an Ace he would be. What he wouldn't give to accompany the young driver on a practice run, to sit in the navi-seat of that hachi-roku as Fujiwara went all out on his home course. He hoped that there would be a day when Fujiwara felt more comfortable with him so he could ask to do just that.

Ryousuke let his mind wander to the place it shouldn't go. His miraculous driving aside, Fujiwara Takumi was absolutely stunning; he was the type of guy who was utterly clueless about how sexy he was. Ryousuke didn't think anyone else could make misshapen and ill-sized t-shirts look as good as his downhiller. Faded, and sometimes torn, jeans were often the complimentary piece to his t-shirt collection, but there were a few times Ryousuke caught himself staring on the cooler days when Fujiwara appeared in a turtleneck sweater or a denim coat looking like something out of a magazine pictorial. If he allowed the fantasy to continue, he could envision dressing up Fujiwara somewhat in his own image with clothes that actually fit, and maybe a dark pair of sunglasses and a chic sport coat to complete the look...

'Shit. I'm fucking doing it again,' Ryousuke groaned to himself. Maybe he should just go to sleep after all, after another trip to the Cold Shower of Chastisement. He had no business thinking about Fujiwara as a potential sexual partner, no matter how much he thought himself in need of a good fuck. None.

The thoughts were pointless. Stupid. Bothersome. Irresistible. Dangerous.

The guy had no idea how beautiful he was. Just when Ryousuke had taken to lustful imaginings of Fujiwara naked, he wasn't quite sure. Maybe it was his own sort of twisted sense of humor, or maybe self-torture, that he sent his challenge to Fujiwara for their battle with a dozen red roses, just to see if it would bring about a question. It never did. Ryousuke supposed that the roses were subtle enough to have their double meaning overlooked, but part of him felt disappointed that nothing was ever said about them at all. He thought sending them to the gas station where Fujiwara worked at the time with his friends, and which was the unofficial "base of operations" for the Akina Speed Stars, would at least catch the attention of someone. Were his friends that clueless too? Maybe they all thought that was simply how the White Comet issued his challenges. Yeah, right. Like he'd ever send roses to Kyouichi for any reason whatsoever. Or to anyone else, for that matter.

At least Ryousuke could pretend that the pink hue that tended to cross Fujiwara's cheeks and that often nervous demeanor had something to do with his presence. It was probably just some form of admiration. Maybe. Maybe that was just Fujiwara being Fujiwara. Ryousuke didn't really know, and that was what kept him captivated. Fujiwara was not easy to figure out at all, but keeping him out of his own mind was incredibly difficult and frustrating to no end.

It had probably started the moment Keisuke, the Red Suns Number Two, had been defeated, that fascination with the enigmatic and gorgeous driver from Akina. And somewhere around that time, Ryousuke started to think more and more about Fujiwara Takumi, even giving in to those thoughts that were better left alone, and that were often self-ridiculed after he'd allowed them to progress enough to do their job. He kept it in check quite well, he thought, but, they had been occurring more frequently in the weeks leading up to the announcement he would make the following night: that the team was ready to move. It was irritating that, for some reason, Fujiwara would not get out of his head; Ryousuke had never had that problem before with almost anyone else he'd been with. Other than his ex-whatever-she-was Kaori, which in its own particular dysfunction was barely a relationship, Ryousuke was not the sort to become attached to anyone. He knew that made him similar to his Father, and it really was starting to give him pause. He never wanted to turn into the man, but, as he grew older, the resemblance to him both in looks and demeanor was increasing dangerously. Unfortunately, after Kaori, Ryousuke had yet to meet a person who could motivate him enough to change.

But, he wasn't totally like his Father. Yet.

So, Ryousuke started to wonder if Fujiwara was a person that, even if he was unattainable in that way, could show him new things beyond that incredible skill behind the wheel. It was another dangerous thought, but Fujiwara had the potential to drive Ryousuke to feelings he thought were pointless to act upon, pointless to even possess in the first place. He could be content with the thought alone, he supposed, and continue to admire him from afar. It was disgraceful to use the younger man in his little fantasy world, but no one knew about that anyway. That was as far as it would go, and that would have to be acceptable. He had a couple of other guys he knew who helped him to take the edge off when needed, guys who were okay with a non-relationship relationship, who really didn't care if he acted like an asshole, and that had more than sufficed. There was no need to get attached to anyone seriously when Ryousuke knew very well it would all have to be left behind.

There was really no point to feeling at all, he figured, knowing that he was expected to be the good son: to become a doctor, marry, have his own son, and take over his Father's hospital. That was his future, and, more and more, he began to realize that the only person he thought he could tolerate sharing his life with was his younger cousin Tsugumi. Especially after the disaster his attachment to Kaori had brought forth, Ryousuke learned that nothing good seemed to come from actually giving a shit. At least he knew Tsugumi and she knew him; there wouldn't be any surprises. Even that simulation, however, caused its own myriad of problems for which Ryousuke sometimes pondered his morality. She was still in high school; he'd have to wait a long time before that simulation could come to fruition.

It wasn't a bad future, if it had been for someone else. But for Ryousuke, there was so much he had to give up for it, and so much he had to make sure remained secret in the meantime for everything to go according to his Father's plans. He knew for sure that his Father hadn't planned on his eldest son having more of a preference for men than for women. Therefore, Ryousuke kept his activities secret, even from his brother, choosing to have a few discreet partners from time to time instead of taking the much easier route of selecting one of the many girls who flocked to the galleries to scream out his name. Ignoring them was so easy; ignoring his attraction to Fujiwara was not.

"Damn it," Ryousuke cursed aloud to himself.

He closed the laptop. He opened his textbook. He closed his textbook.

'What the hell am I thinking?' he lamented inwardly, because he was not the type of person who could just stop thinking about something like flipping a switch. Thinking and over-thinking, thinking about not thinking about it, about him: this was definitely getting to be a big problem. The fact that he was distracted was bad on its own. He didn't have time to be distracted, much less to be distracted by being sexually frustrated. Admittedly, he'd taken on kind of a self-imposed abstinence in the last several months, thinking it would be better to focus hard on studying, his plans for the new team, and keeping Keisuke close and on the straight and narrow. Already occasional trysts had become practically non-existent, and it had been mostly okay. He didn't miss things too much, and what he didn't have time to get from someone else, he could do himself if it became absolutely necessary.

Unfortunately, Ryousuke discovered he had a limit after all, one that Fujiwara was unknowingly pushing him past. There would be no way he could approach Fujiwara about something like this, especially having a response of zero to sending him roses and knowing basically zero about him as a person. So far, it didn't look like Fujiwara actually reacted to much of anything that didn't involve a race or training. He was actually eerily calm at times, so much so that Ryousuke wondered if the guy was way more attentive than he appeared to be, as if listening under the guise of being lost in outer space somewhere so that no one would know he was actually paying attention. No, he seemed too honest for that. Hopefully, he was as oblivious as he sometimes looked when he stared off at nothing, a habit that Ryousuke ought to have found to be annoying, but, to his own dismay, he found it to be absolutely endearing instead. What if he said something subtly ambiguous to see what would happen, how he would react?

'Stop,' Ryousuke admonished himself. What kind of reaction was he hoping for anyway? It wasn't as though he could realistically act on a dangerous plan like that anyway, could he? As racers, they knew some of the same people. An involvement with a person connected to racing would inevitably lead to the same mistakes he'd made with Kaori, wouldn't it? People would find out. Things could get very bad for him if that were to happen. But, for some reason, when it came to Fujiwara, Ryousuke found himself wondering what it would be like anyway. What would it be like to hold that body? To touch him? To shove his hands under some baggy t-shirt and tear it off...

'Stop!'

Fujiwara, in all his quiet glory, had a knack for making things incredibly difficult. Ryousuke would catch that pink hue on his cheeks when he spoke to him, and the nervous energy around him that made him so hard to resist. He was adorable in those moments, and Ryousuke had to admit the flattery was nice too, and it made him want to see if there was that "other side" all the more. However, he couldn't be 100% sure that Fujiwara's nervousness was because of attraction. If he was honest, he'd have to admit that he hoped that it might be a sign of attraction. It made no sense, it had no purpose. For all he knew, Fujiwara had some high-school girlfriend he would take for drives to Akina Lake in that hachi-roku.

Pointless. Stupid. Not to mention, totally inappropriate.

So why the hell couldn't Ryousuke stop thinking about him? Was it because he was the only person to defeat him on a mountain road?

Ryousuke admitted to a defeat of his months-old restraint. He decided he just needed to get laid, and forget this utter idiocy of his attraction to Fujiwara. If he called one of the people he occasionally saw from time to time, he was sure he could reset his brain and get his mind away from those thoughts he shouldn't be having about his Downhill Ace. It pissed him off that he couldn't be above such urges, but it really had been a while. Was it really a bad thing to indulge in the flesh from time to time? Ryousuke decided that it wasn't and he reached for his phone.

He scrolled through the list of contacts on the device. Given the lateness of the hour, there might only be two viable options that he'd have a good chance of getting to pick up the phone. Of those two, there was one guy he certainly favored; he was smart, sexy, and a night owl. The only problem was that the last time they got together, the man had mentioned that he was going to be seeing his other on-again, off-again lover exclusively, and so Ryousuke had not called him in months. He hadn't called anyone else either, figuring that the time was right to start getting used to life without men anyway. However, he did prefer Isao to the other men he occasionally saw, even if the last few times they had met hadn't been exactly free of certain entanglements that Ryousuke had always tried to avoid. He'd actually felt kind of relieved when Isao had told him, while they were still in bed sharing a cigarette, that he was going to be seeing that someone else only. Ryousuke didn't protest, even if it meant he had to give up having the nice "friends with benefits" arrangement with the fellow Gundai student. He and Isao, who was at the top of his class in his major of mathematics, rarely crossed paths on campus because of their differing areas of study, but Ryousuke had heard through the grapevine of a couple other mutual acquaintances that Isao might be single again. With a sigh, he punched the call button to find out for sure.

After three rings the familiar voice picked up. "Well, well. I hardly believed my caller ID. This is a surprise, Ryousuke-san."

"Yeah. Did I wake you?"

Isao chuckled. "You know you didn't."

He felt a little smirk play across his lips. "I'm glad. You've been well, I hope, Isao-kun."

"Sure. School's kicking my ass, but that's nothing new to either of us, is it?" the other voice on the line responded easily.

"No, it isn't," Ryousuke affirmed. Taking a breath, he continued, "Look, I'll get right to the point. Are you free?"

Isao laughed a little. "You certainly don't waste any time."

"Have I ever?" he replied smoothly, lowering his voice because he thought he heard Keisuke shuffling down the hall to his bathroom.

"No. You've always been a bastard, right from the start."

"Thanks," Ryousuke said sarcastically. Seriously, Isao pulled no punches, and part of him really liked that about the other man; he didn't just roll over for him. Ryousuke always had to work for it a little, and that was more than all right. The challenge always added an element of excitement, and he suddenly felt confident that he could forget the needless fantasies of a naked Fujiwara with a comfortable hour or two in the company of Isao. He was good in bed, hot, and not an idiot. If Ryousuke thought for a minute that this lifestyle would be viable for his future, he might have allowed himself to like the fellow Gundai grad student just a little bit more. But, that was also a pointless thought. Tonight, he just needed the relief, and he hoped Isao would oblige him.

"You're quite welcome. And, let's see, by 'free', do you mean am I busy or am I still seeing someone?"

"Both," Ryousuke replied without hesitation.

"Ah, I see. Since it's been so long, I thought that maybe Mummsy and Daddy might have found you a nice, proper young rich-bitch to shackle her ball and chain to you. Guess not, eh?" Isao asked with an amused tone.

"I'm not tied down to anyone yet," came the answer along with a rueful chuckle. He had to keep his voice low because it indeed seemed that Keisuke suddenly decided he needed a shower, and could be heard fumbling around the hall bath in preparation for it.

"So these last few months you've been doing what, exactly?" Isao pressed.

"You love to skip answering my questions, don't you?"

"Making you wait is fun since you're always so impatient."

Ryousuke frowned. He could take a little playing around, but it was getting late. "For your information, I haven't had time for personal things. The last time we met was the last time." Ryousuke hated giving an inch, but it appeared that's what Isao was waiting for. Fine then. He'd give it.

"Really?" came the quiet response.

"Yeah."

A few seconds passed. "I'm not busy."

"That's nice."

"And as far as if I'm seeing anyone, I guess you could say we're still 'on and off' just like the time I last saw you."

"I see," Ryousuke said softly. In his most seductive tone he added, "So are you 'on' or are you 'off' tonight?"

He heard a sigh. "Off. As of two days ago. God, you've got some gift for timing, Ryousuke-san, or maybe you heard something from someone?"

"Is that a 'yes' then?" Ryousuke asked, laying it on thick and not giving Isao any other information. No need for things to get off track before they even got started.

Another sigh. "Where are you?"

"Takasaki, but I can be at your place within the hour."

Isao laughed a little. "How nice of you to invite yourself."

"Would you prefer a hotel?" Ryousuke persisted.

"No. I've got no intention of changing out of my sweats."

"I hope you'll revise that statement when I arrive."

"Bastard."

"I'll head out now."

"Whatever you want. Don't get a ticket or anything."

"I'm careful."

"Yeah. Okay. See you."

"Later."

Ryousuke closed the call and quickly moved to turn on the water in his own bathroom for a speed-shower. He hoped Keisuke hadn't used all of the hot water, and was relieved when the bathroom started to steam up nicely. He undressed, entered the shower, bathed in record time, and dried off. After a few sporting passes with a hairdryer, he slid on a pair of khaki pants and an oxford shirt and grabbed another sweater, a slightly heavier one in concession to the chill outside, pulling it on as he went downstairs.

"Yo, Aniki! You going somewhere?"

'Shit.' Ryousuke had hoped to slip out unnoticed, but Keisuke had probably heard him rushing about.

"Yeah. I have something to do, but I'll be back before you wake up."

"Okay," the sleepy sibling replied, flashing him a curious look before deciding sleep was more important than being curious after all.

Luckily, Keisuke didn't ask questions. Ryousuke didn't like keeping things from his brother, especially something like this, but he had his reasons for doing it. He didn't want to ever have to outright lie to the otouto, so it was certainly a relief when Keisuke didn't push. Someday, he'd tell him everything, but only after he was settled firmly in the life he was expected to live. it probably wasn't necessary, but he'd spent his entire adolescence and young adulthood being cautious about this; even with Kaori, he couldn't say anything to anyone because, even though they were technically "dating", she had been engaged to Houjou Rin so it wasn't as though he could shout it to the rooftops that they were probably in love with each other. It was was never what he could have termed a stable relationship though, and, afterward, he decided relationships were pointless anyway. So, after Kaori, he kept his occasional partners to himself and didn't share anything with the otouto because Keisuke wasn't always known for keeping his mouth shut, especially after a couple of beers. With his own time as a bachelor running out, it wouldn't be long before he'd tell him, and, by that time, he'd be married himself, probably to someone he barely knew that his parents thought would be "suitable", so his preferences of any sort would be mort anyway by that point.

Moments later, he climbed into the FC, checking his wallet one last time to make sure he had a condom just in case Isao didn't have one handy, though he was pretty sure it was an unnecessary precaution. He put a bottle of red wine on the passenger seat; he knew Isao liked a nice cabernet, and the Takahashi certainly kept plenty of wine around the house. Mainly, it was for hospitality gifts for his parents' many social visits, but Ryousuke helped himself to it occasionally for his own purposes. He'd replace it eventually, not that his parents would really notice anyway. He tapped the remote for the garage, started the car, and was off before the car even had a chance to warm up.

A short while later, and with a small effort, he found himself a parking space near to Isao's building. The guy had a decent apartment for a student, one he formerly shared with his elder brother. Where had the elder gone? Ryousuke thought he remembered something about the guy taking off for Tokyo, but he couldn't be sure. The important thing was that the younger had managed to keep the apartment without having to get another roommate, and that was convenient.

He walked to the door and pressed the bell. He could hear movement inside, and the lock was turned.

"Hey," Isao said as a greeting, casting a glance to the bottle of wine and shaking his head a little. He looked pretty much the same, his glasses looking chic and the rest of him in casual "at home" attire. He'd been studying, Ryousuke guessed, because he knew that the glasses were not something Isao wore all the time.

"What?" Ryousuke asked calmly.

"I thought I told you before you don't need to bring anything but yourself when you come here, Ryousuke-san."

"You did, but I know you have a weakness for a dry Cabernet, and I just happened to have some laying around. Call it a case of my not being able to help my upbringing, if you want."

"Like this is a 'polite' visit?"

Ryousuke frowned in response to the sarcasm. "Are you going to let me in, or not?"

The math student shuffled his bare feet once. "Sometimes I wonder why it is that I take your calls."

Ryousuke reached for Isao's hand and placed the bottle of wine into it. "You don't have to."

The man took off his glasses with his free hand and looked him in the eye. "If you weren't as good-looking or as good in bed as you are, I wouldn't put up with your b.s."

"You're extremely adept at backhanded compliments."

"Only when you're around," he returned, looking at the label on the wine and smiling. "Nothing but the best. That's just like you."

"I suppose."

"Come in, then. I'll have to look for my corkscrew. I don't often get the chance to have the good stuff, although I wish you wouldn't bring me things like this."

Ryousuke stepped inside and closed the door himself as he slid off his shoes. "Won't you enjoy it?"

"That's the problem. I will enjoy it. And I'll have to think of you every time I take a sip."

"You don't have to. You can just get drunk, if you prefer."

"This is not a wine that should be wasted like that. It should be enjoyed thoroughly before it comes back to bite me in the ass later," Isao said from the small kitchenette. "It's kind of like you, in a way."

"That hurts," Ryousuke said plainly. He supposed this was some kind of punishment game for not calling in months even just to "talk". He remembered that as one of the entanglements Isao had mentioned he wouldn't mind having, but that which Ryousuke had bluntly told him wouldn't happen. Oh well. A little payback for being a jerk was all right.

He heard Isao rifling around in a drawer in the kitchen. Not much had changed in the apartment, but he did see a somewhat unceremonious piling of "stuff" in one corner of the main room. He supposed that had to be the belongings of the recently dismissed boyfriend. Apparently Isao really wasn't kidding when he said it had only been a couple of days. Ryousuke heard a slight expletive come from the direction of the kitchen and he walked over to where the man was having zero luck in finding his corkscrew.

"Can I help you look for it?" he offered.

"Knock yourself out," Isao agreed.

"A connoisseur such as yourself shouldn't be misplacing something like a corkscrew," he remarked as he selected a drawer to look through.

Isao chuckled. "Well, I may like wine, but not everyone does. I haven't been drinking much of it over the last several months."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He hated it so much that he wouldn't even kiss me if I had any."

"Picky."

"Well, yeah. I seem to get involved with picky types for some reason."

"Was that meant as another 'compliment', Isao-kun? Because, frankly, I think you've complimented me enough for one night. Besides, we're not 'involved' like that."

"You're right. I'm being impossible. Sorry."

"It's okay. I can't really argue with you either, and that's okay too," Ryousuke said softly. "I know I'm an asshole."

"At least you admit it, or maybe I should find that to be even more scary?"

Ryousuke shrugged and opened another drawer. He cast a sideways glance at the man. He looked good; slender but not frail, shorter than him but only by a few centimeters or so. He was attractive, his sleeping pants hanging loosely about his hips and a tightly fitting tank shirt not quite long enough to reach the sagging waistband. It was a nice view. Really nice.

Isao opened another drawer as well, and finally succeeded in locating the errant corkscrew. He pushed it into the cork and expertly drew it from the bottle. Ryousuke watched as he sniffed the cork. "Mmmm. This is a good 'cab. I can already tell. I suppose I should thank you, even though it kind of makes me feel like you're paying for my time or something."

"Don't over-complicate things."

"Yeah, I know."

He reached for two wine glasses and set them down on the counter. He paused, and it almost looked like he might be reconsidering something. Before that could happen, Ryousuke came up behind him and threaded his arms through the gap between Isao's arms and his waist. "Pour the wine, Isao-kun," he whispered silkily into the other man's ear, sensing a hitched breath. He was wearing his hair a little longer, and the smooth black strands tickled the tip of Ryousuke's nose and his chin as he leaned toward Isao's ear. He smelled good, like sandalwood and lemongrass. It was pleasing. This was just what Ryousuke needed, something firmly within reach instead of some pointless fantasy that would never become reality.

Isao only nodded and poured them each a glass, placing one into Ryousuke's hand as he pulled back from the half-embrace. "You're warm, Ryousuke-san," he remarked.

"Am I?" Ryousuke asked, taking a sip of the wine.

The other nodded, motioning toward the main room where they sat next to the low center table on comfortable pillows, their backs against a sofa littered with all manner of mathematics texts, graphing paper, and a laptop. "So, have you really been just studying and doing your racing thing these last few months?"

"Really, I have."

"Ah."

"But," Ryousuke said evenly, "I see that the same cannot be said for you." The words were said with a nod toward the "stuff" in the corner. "We won't be having any unexpected company, will we?" he asked smoothly as he ran his fingers through the chin length hair of his host.

"Nah. Don't worry about it. He was really pissed this time when he took off."

"It seems he planned to come back, though, since he didn't take his things."

Isao shrugged, leaning into Ryousuke's hand. "I don't think so. We had a falling out on the train back from visiting Nii-san in Tokyo. He got off at a different stop and I haven't heard a thing in two days, so he's still cooling off. He can pick up his stuff whenever. Or not. Whatever."

Ryousuke nodded, taking another sip of the wine. He liked Cabernet too, but he actually preferred Shiraz if he had a choice. But this was a "good 'cab" after all, so he decided it would do nothing but help things along. "Are you enjoying the wine?"

Isao was taking another sip and nodded over his glass with a hum in the affirmative. When Ryousuke saw that he had swallowed, he leaned over and brushed his lips against the other's mouth lightly. "I'm glad," he whispered, never taking his lips off the other man's own. Isao put his glass down without looking and ran his tapered fingers through Ryousuke's hair. It felt good to be touched, and to touch. This was definitely what he needed. He trailed his tongue over his partner's lips, tasting the cabernet that lingered there. "Wine flavored kisses are pleasant, I think," he affirmed softly.

"I always thought so," Isao agreed in a whisper and pressed his lips more firmly into the kiss. Ryousuke took that as an invitation that the partner was ready to get down to business. He gently parted the lips with his tongue, and was gratified to have Isao meet the gesture with his own. Ryousuke wasn't much of a fan of kissing, but he sensed that it would lead to better things if he did it, so he did. It was nice, and was definitely leading to other responses faster than he wanted to admit. Had it really been a good idea to deprive himself of this? Caught in the warmth of Isao's mouth, Ryousuke wasn't sure that taking time off from sex had been one of his better plans. God, he really needed it. He only hoped that he wasn't coming off as desperate as he was beginning to feel. It was ridiculous. Since when had he been desperate? Had Fujiwara really been affecting him that much?

Stop. He was here to forget that person and to enjoy another.

He pulled back and took a healthy sip of wine, nearly draining his glass. He saw that Isao had a curious expression on his face as he looked on, but the man said nothing immediately, indulging in another sip of his own. "You're acting pretty patient, Ryousuke-san. It's almost like you're trying very hard to hold back. Are you?"

He answered the question with a raised eyebrow. "You're very perceptive."

Isao finished what was in his glass and set it on the table, taking Ryousuke's nearly empty glass from him. "Though you make it a point to keep your distance, we have been doing this for a while. It would be stupid if I didn't pick up on anything from you in all those times, wouldn't it?"

"Touché."

"I think you're wanting something a little more aggressive than a quiet evening sipping wine, or you wouldn't have called me in the first place. Bringing the wine is one thing, but as I said when you got here, this isn't a polite visit, is it? Don't come here and comfort me with quiet relaxation. Don't let me see your potential to be a nice guy like this, okay Bastard?"

Ryousuke smirked a little. Now he was getting somewhere. "I'm not a nice guy."

"That's the spirit," Isao commented.

"So what are you going to do about it, Isao-kun?" he asked coyly.

"I don't know, but I'll give you a little push," Isao replied as he shifted to face Ryousuke, straddling his thighs.

"Mmmm, I like the way you think, always have..." he murmured as Isao began to suck on his neck. He reached with his arms, exploring a slender back with his fingers. "With a push like this, I won't be holding back for long..."

"Don't even try, Ryousuke-san," he whispered as he reached under Ryousuke's sweater and tugged. Following the lead, Ryousuke leaned up and assisted with pulling the garment over his head and off. Before he'd even been able to cast it fully aside, Isao was already unbuttoning his shirt. It felt good, and he didn't bother to try and make this night even to appear like something it wasn't anymore. If even Isao knew the initial slow pace was all for a polite show of propriety, then what the hell was the point?

"You look good like this. Very sexy," Ryousuke remarked, reciprocating the removal of his sweater with the quick removal of Isao's tank shirt. Once that was accomplished, he reached down with one of his hands toward the man's groin. He discovered by pressing his palm to the outside of Isao's sleeping pants that he was already half hard. "And I'm not the only one who might be a little impatient, ne?"

Isao kissed him full on the lips, and Ryousuke made the kiss more aggressive this time in response.

"I hate that I've missed you, Ryousuke-san," Isao breathed between the kiss and the biting back of a moan as Ryousuke reached inside the waistband of his loose-fitting pants to stroke his arousal.

"You haven't missed me that much," Ryousuke replied, biting rather sharply on a nipple for emphasis. "You've been busy with someone else."

"Does that bother you?" Isao breathed.

"Not at all."

They continued to explore each other with their hands, and Ryousuke felt the easy un-tucking of his shirt. Warm hands traced his abs and ribcage and unbuttoned the rest of the buttons. "Does anything bother you?" Isao whispered into Ryousuke's ear.

"Of course. But not that," Ryousuke affirmed, cupping the mathematician's handsome face in his hands and kissing him deeply. "Don't even say you wish it did either."

Isao gave him a wry grin. "Seriously. Why the hell do I take your calls?"

"I have no idea," he answered truthfully, "but I can't say I'm unhappy about that in this moment."

"Yeah," was all Isao could eke out as Ryousuke stroked him a bit more firmly.

"I want you...," he muttered as he nipped and sucked his way around Isao's lithe upper body.

Isao nodded assent, but slid off Ryousuke's lap and pulled himself to a stand, picking up the wine glasses. "I'm getting us a refill."

"Sounds good," Ryousuke agreed, picking up his sweater, folding it, and placing it neatly on top of a particularly drab looking advanced Calculus text. He was already feeling the pressure in his groin and Isao had not even touched him there, probably on purpose. Partaking of a few more sips of the expensive Cabernet might not be a bad idea; he watched as his sometimes-partner poured them each another glass. He was attractive and sexy. Perhaps what was most appealing was the fact that he seemed to be totally comfortable with himself as a gay man, but that had also been something of a challenge for Ryousuke in the time that they had known each other. Though Isao didn't outright push him for more than he was willing to give, the subtle remarks and occasional statements he made every now and then told Ryousuke that if he desired it, all he would have to do is say the word and Isao, a scant two years his junior, would probably agree to be in a more serious, non-secret relationship with him. But Ryousuke could never allow that, and that was made perfectly clear when they first met, before they ever shared a bed together. At first, it wasn't a problem, and they enjoyed each other when time would permit. However, as time went on, Ryousuke noticed that it appeared that Isao wanted to change the rules of their game a little. He figured he'd step back and let things cool off, which he did. He had a couple of other men he knew, and he ended up seeing them instead for a while. That was the only time Isao had made things truly difficult for him.

"How many other guys do you do this with, Ryousuke-san?" he had asked in a phone call.

"A couple. It's occasional, though. Is that a problem?"

"Well, yeah. I guess it's starting to be a problem," Isao had relented.

Immediately, Ryousuke's mental alarm bells started to peal in his head, and he went directly into damage control mode, shutting him down perhaps too cruelly. "Then we need to stop. I told you plainly that I don't get emotionally involved with people. I don't have time for it, and I don't have a need for it. If that's unacceptable for you now, then we need to stop seeing each other permanently."

Isao had told him he needed to think about it. What the hell was there to think about anyway? Ryousuke had told him clearly what he could expect, and what he couldn't expect. To him, it was black and white: Isao either wanted to continue fucking him, or he didn't.

A few days later, he had reached his decision and Ryousuke had thought that the matter was closed when the math student showed up at the medical school saying, "I've got forty-five minutes before I have to get ready for my next lecture. If you've got that much time, I'll make it worth your while." And, wow, did he ever. It had been rough, quick, and hot; just the way Ryousuke liked it, and much rougher, quicker, and hotter than he ever had been before with him. When it was over and Ryousuke was putting himself back together, all Isao said was, "You're the most arrogant son of a bitch I've ever met, Ryousuke-san, and you have no other redeeming qualities as a person other than that you're an amazing fuck. As long as you don't ever let me forget that again, you can call me whenever you want."

Ryousuke had at first been appalled to be told something like that so bluntly. No one talked to the eldest Takahashi that way; no one had ever dared. However, there was nothing he said that wasn't true. So, Ryousuke agreed; after all, Isao was a good lay, and a smart person he could respect. If he made the decision that being a sex friend was enough after all, Ryousuke certainly wouldn't argue with it. The fact that Isao stood up to him actually made him more attractive.

It had been going well for a time after that, right up until Isao informed him that he and the owner of the stuff in the corner of the room decided to be exclusive partners. It was a very occasional thing, but when it happened, it was damn good, and he hoped the same would hold true tonight.

"You're deep in thought, Ryousuke-san. You're different tonight," Isao observed between sips, effectively startling Ryousuke out of his train of thought. They had both been standing, evaluating each other for a few minutes as they downed their second glasses of wine, and Ryousuke could hear a faint rumble of thunder outside. It had been forecast to rain overnight and he had hoped to beat the oncoming weather, but it looked like that wasn't about to happen since the cool weather front had obviously triggered the predicted storm.

Ryousuke finished his wine and set his glass down. "Maybe I want to take a little extra time after all, since it's been a while, and I honestly don't know when I'll have the time to see you again."

Isao nodded. "You said you were starting a new racing team. Didn't you say it was a travel team?"

"You're very attentive, that's exactly what it is. We're starting soon and we'll be taking trips regularly on weekends."

"Ah. So you and your brother are finally ready for World Domination?" he asked with a light laugh.

Ryousuke laughed a little too. "Sort of. Keisuke is, but I'm retired now. I recruited another driver to do it with Keisuke. I'll be managing the team from behind the scenes."

The companion sipped his wine, raised a brow, and another rumble of thunder punctuated the short silence. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"You really did give it up then," Isao mused aloud, and Ryousuke assumed that the realization would lead the intelligent one to similarly realize that he would be given up for good some day too. "For how long?" he asked quietly.

"About a year is what I have left."

"Then residency?"

"Not quite, but soon enough," Ryousuke said.

"Then love then marriage, then Ryousuke Jr. in the baby carriage," Isao said wryly.

"Something like that."

He set his glass down and drew closer; Ryousuke put his hands on the younger man's smooth chest. "Then let's get busy, Ryousuke-san. You and your drivers can dominate the world starting after I get something out of you first," he whispered, pushing his hands through Ryousuke's open shirt and making contact with his skin.

"Mmm...what do you want to get out of me, then, Isao-kun?" Ryousuke said in a low voice, the wine finally having a relaxing effect as he moved his hands to squeeze a tight, firm ass, pulling the partner forward into contact with his own body.

"Take off the rest of my clothes and find out...," he breathed, pulling away and heading off toward the bedroom.

Ryousuke followed him into the tiny bedroom of the apartment, a room in which the full-sized bed took up almost all available space. He stood behind Isao and resumed the exploration of his shoulders with his hands and mouth before reaching to pull off the sleeping pants. Isao had raised one of his arms, reached back and played his fingers over Ryousuke's lips. He opened his mouth a little, and the man responded by seductively putting his index finger inside.

"I think it's going to rain," Isao whispered, as lightning could be seen flickering behind the drawn shades of the bedroom's one small window.

"Get on the bed, " Ryousuke commanded softly, sucking on the finger one more time for good measure. He was already hard and he knew that the other knew it.

Isao lay down on his back, his hand stroking himself lightly. God he was so sexy when he did wanton things like that. That was something he was sure Fujiwara would never do for him, no matter how much he fantasized about it. No. Stop. Isao was plenty hot, and willing. He shook off the passing thought of his Downhill Ace, and concentrated on making this the good fuck he needed it to be. Ryousuke took off his shirt and climbed on top of him, pressing his own weight down onto the hot body beneath him. "Ah...Ryousuke-san.." Isao murmured as the thunder rumbled again; Ryousuke removed Isao's hand and took over the stroking of his erection.

If he had Fujiwara in his bed, would he sound like that?

"I'll make it good for you...," Ryousuke promised, closing his eyes. For a second he chastised himself for allowing another thought of the teenager to creep into his mind, but, feeling the immediate physical reaction the thought gave to his groin, he decided that he could go with it for a little while after all. There was no harm in that, was there? Sure, it was insensitive, but when had he ever been accused of being sensitive anyway? For all he knew, Isao was thinking about getting fucked by his boyfriend. If he told himself that, then having a little fantasy to help him "get there" wouldn't be entirely unforgivable. Would it?

"I'll make it real good," he repeated, making a mental addition of the word "Takumi" to the sentence, and sucking hard on a nipple and twisting the soft skin around Isao's hard erection as he jerked him off. His own body throbbed immediately as he pictured Fujiwara under him, hot skin becoming hotter. 'Shit,' he thought. Then, another thought. 'Ah, fuck it.'

"Yeah...like that..." Isao whispered.

Ryousuke moved down the taut body beneath with his mouth until he reached his groin. He licked him slowly. This was a tease and it was definitely working; he could hear Isao cursing a little under his breath as he raised his hips in a yearning for more contact.

"Do you want it?"

Fujiwara Takumi...do you want this...?

"Hurry the fuck up," Isao hissed.

The storm was drawing closer.

Ryousuke smirked before taking him into his mouth. The skin tasted both salty and sweet, and Isao was pushing into his mouth already. Good. Ryousuke wanted to make him come hard and fast, so he could take that hot body and fuck him all the way to next week. It had been too long going without, and he was so turned on that he wanted to give the pleasure quickly so he could take his own.

"Ah...! God, you're so fucking good...," the man who was not Fujiwara moaned.

Ryousuke sucked harder, taking the firm flesh and massaging it with his tongue. Already having a hint of the man's release grace his tongue, he was ready to take Isao over the edge. Then, the fantasy of doing this to Fujiwara came to him again.

Fujiwara...Takumi...

If it was Fujiwara, would he do it this fast? Maybe. But maybe not the first time. Definitely not. Fujiwara might not have even been with a woman before. He didn't know. Maybe he'd lose it quickly if Ryousuke laid into him that hard with his mouth. Maybe he should slow down a little.

It'll feel good, Fujiwara...

He removed his mouth and climbed over Isao again, sucking hard on his chest, leaving marks and not giving a shit about it, and jerking him off with his hand. Isao understood without a spoken word, and reached over to his bedside table, flinging open a drawer and rummaging blindly about with one hand. He gripped a small tube of lubricant and slapped it against Ryousuke's chest. "Take it and get back to what you were doing..." he muttered with some frustration-laced heat to his words.

What would he do if Fujiwara said that? He'd get back to it. Immediately. But it pissed him off a little that Isao had said it. He was interrupting the fantasy of leaving his marks upon the young, supple body that just had to be there underneath all those damn t-shirts. How dare he? Ryousuke had come here to get off and, God-damn it all, he would get off his way. If that made him an asshole, so be it. He was too turned on at the moment to care.

Even if it means you need to shut up and be someone else tonight.

In response, Ryousuke took the tube and put it roughly on the bed. He grabbed Isao's arms and held him down by the wrists. He kept his eyes closed, though the more insistent lightning was penetrating his closed eyelids somewhat. "Who the hell do you think you're talking to?" he hissed into one of Isao's ears, biting the lobe firmly enough to cause a bit of recoil toward the suddenly painful gesture. "You'll get yours, don't worry."

"I'm...not worried...but..."

"Besides," Ryousuke interrupted in a hot whisper, "I'm not the one who's been getting laid regularly like you have. I'll do it how I want to do it, thank you."

"Bastard."

Ryousuke smirked as he let go of Isao's wrists to press down on his hips as he took him into his mouth once again. He opened his eyes, and saw the man looking at him with a blush across his cheeks and a deeply furrowed brow. He released Isao from his mouth and moved into a position over him with his arms on either side of the nakedness below. "What?" he snapped as another bolt of lightning danced a muted flicker across the room.

"N-nothing...," Isao replied, leaning up for a forceful kiss which Ryousuke returned, tasting the fine wine as he nibbled on the man's tongue.

Fujiwara's lips...that beautiful face. The fantasy image appeared in front of his closed eyes, and Ryousuke suddenly wanted to kiss and to be kissed like he never had before.

Takumi...why does it feel so good with you?

Suddenly, the kiss broke and the fantasy shattered along with it. Ryousuke opened his eyes and saw Isao in front of him, panting, with a question in his eyes Ryousuke had never seen before. He had to look away for a second. His body was aching, his mind spinning with the physical sensation draped in the self-delusion that he was kissing his teenage downhiller as though he needed to delve deep enough into the boy's mouth to reach his soul. Where did this feeling come from? He took a breath and, a little angry with himself for letting it get that far, looked back toward Isao. What the hell was that look for?

"Problem?" Ryousuke asked indifferently, his mask of control hopefully restored better than he thought it was.

"You're different," Isao whispered.

"I'm not," Ryousuke affirmed a little sternly, pushing Isao back down on the bed and covering him with his body. God, he needed to be careful. He was doing it differently this time after all. 'It's fine. It's fine,' he kept saying to himself over and over again as his hands roamed over the body beneath him, trying to reset everything in his brain and get that damn kid from Akina out of his damn head. 'This is not Fujiwara. This is someone who actually wants to sleep with you. Get it together, Takahashi!'

This body was too thin to be Fujiwara's. Too tall. Too...

"Can't you tell how excited I am, Isao-kun?" he asked in a low voice, grinding his own clothed erection into the man beneath him, his confidence that he could keep it together boosted by the fact that he was still rock-hard as he spoke Isao's name.

"Yeah...just do it to me already...," Isao breathed.

"Do it to me, Ryousuke..." Oh dear Lord, Takumi... Fuck.

The reprieve was already over. The flashes in his head of Fujiwara asking him for release were as unrelenting as were the now churning skies outside.

"Like this?" Ryousuke murmured as he pumped the dampened arousal under him firmly between their bodies. The friction of the back of his hand on himself as he moved heightened his own desire.

Isao moaned in what Ryousuke thought might be approval. "More, Ryou...suke...san.."

I'll give you everything...Takumi...everything...

"That's better," he purred, lifting himself a little to deal with the small bottle he'd been warming under his other hand. He slipped a lubricated finger down toward Isao's entrance, circling it teasingly on the outside. God, how he'd love to tease Fujiwara and have him open that sexy ass of his to him. Isao opened his legs a little, and lifted his hips. Ryousuke took the neglected member into his mouth once again as he firmly pushed his finger inside. The man sighed in relief and began to open his body to Ryousuke's touch.

Isao-kun...So hot...Takumi...God, you drive me crazy...Damn it!

Coherent thoughts were slipping away from him, an unfamiliar sensation of being a little out of control was overtaking him. His body might be lying with Isao, but his thoughts were with someone else entirely. Why the hell had he allowed himself to ever open his mind to such recklessness? And why did it make him so painfully aroused?

Was this...passion?

Takumi...I want you, Takumi...I've been wanting you...I have to have you...

Ryousuke heard the labored huffing of breath over the rumble of thunder, and his mind gave him the completely erotic image of Fujiwara being driven insane with pleasure, pleasure Ryousuke fantasized that only he should be able to give to him. He worked another finger inside and the tight expanse gripped him firmly as he moved to create the space he knew he would be needing very soon. What would Fujiwara feel like? What would he taste like? The thought of that pinkish skin, how sexy he'd look without a stupid t-shirt on...how hard he would be just before he came.

Come for me, Takumi...

Isao's hips bucked and he gasped. "R-Ryousuke-san...oh fuck...I'm...I..."

Ryousuke pushed his fingers deeply inside, searching for that sweetest of spots, that ultimate of erogenous zones. When he found it, he hit it hard, sucking harder.

Takumi, let go...

It was too much for Isao to bear, and he came with a shudder and a frantic gasping for air. Ryousuke snapped back into reality as the storm outside gathered fury. Had Isao forgotten to breathe? That had never happened before. Ryousuke opened his eyes, wiping at his mouth with the back of his wrist. He removed his fingers and the partner grimaced at the motion. He felt his eyes narrow, and he watched him closely for a few seconds, half expecting another back-handed compliment to escape the man's lips. "You all right?" he finally whispered.

"Yeah..." came the hoarse reply. Isao then abruptly sat up and kissed him again. What the hell was going on here? Ryousuke hadn't done this much kissing since...God it had been years. Even Isao didn't usually want to kiss him this much. And why did it suddenly feel so damn good?

Was it because he wanted to kiss Fujiwara every God-damn time he saw him?

Was it really passion after all?

This was fucking ridiculous. He just needed to hurry up, get off, and leave. That was all. He quickly broke the kiss and put a hand on Isao's shoulder. "I hope you don't think we're done," he said coolly to an Isao who looked back at him with a pair of bedroom eyes Ryousuke was totally not expecting. It unnerved him, and pissed him off. This was business. He thought Isao shouldn't be looking at him like that.

Isao opened his eyes fully as if canceling some sort of blissful daydream. That was better. That was a relief. He flinched a little as a particularly loud clap of thunder pierced the silence. "No, I don't think we're done," he whispered, handing Ryousuke a towel from the still-opened drawer of the bedside table to clean his hand.

"Good," Ryousuke replied, accepting the towel. He stared the man down as he lay back. He may have just come, but Ryousuke could see that his nipples were still hard and, by the look of him, he figured he could probably bring him again if he wanted to. He dropped the towel on the bed and partially unbuckled his belt. "Feel free to help," he remarked.

"Jerk," was the verbal reply, but it thankfully came with a pair of hands who effortlessly moved his own hands aside and made quick work of buckle, button, and zipper. Ryousuke closed his eyes again as Isao slid a soft palm inside his boxers, as the thunder roared, the rain poured, and the lightning strobe-lit the room.

God it felt so good to have someone else's hand touch his dick, a feeling he was missing more than he had been willing to admit. He was already painfully hard, and Isao's stroking of him was pretty much unnecessary and overdue. "I'm ready. Turn around," Ryousuke said evenly.

He opened his eyes in time to see the guy flash him a disapproving look, but he complied. Ryousuke pushed his pants down past his hips but he didn't bother to take them off. He was still pissed, and he didn't know if it was because of the stupid dreamy look Isao gave him, or if it was toward himself for wanting it, if only it had been on the face of his young Downhill Ace.

He picked up the lube and put a little more on his fingers before sliding two of them inside Isao's tight body. He ran his other hand up the length of his back as he moved closer, getting into a good position. He clutched at the silky hair as he leaned over to whisper in Isao's ear. "You got a condom handy?"

"Drawer," came the reply with a little nod toward the drawer. "I see you're back to you," he added with a chuckle.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?" Ryousuke asked in an irritated tone as he removed his hand from Isao's hair so he could reach into the drawer for the small square package.

"Nothing..."

Ryousuke let out an exasperated sigh. "We're not stopping now, even if you're pissed off at something, Isao-kun."

"Who said I was pissed?" Isao asked with a look of genuine confusion in his expression. "Seems like you're the one who's a little huffy..."

"Be quiet."

The storm aided him with another loud clap of thunder, and Isao fell silent.

Ryousuke continued to push his fingers in and out, and he closed his eyes again. He leaned over the smooth back and planted a suckling kiss on the nape of his neck. "Don't be upset. It's good this way too, isn't it?"

Isao pushed back on his fingers. "Yeah, it's always good, Ryousuke-san. And tonight, it's been..."

"Shh," Ryousuke interrupted him, not wanting to hear the completion of the sentence. "You're body's so hot, Isao-kun," he whispered in a seductive tone. "I'm looking forward to this..."

"Yeah..."

Ryousuke trailed his tongue down Isao's spine and the man shivered a little and arched his back in response. Nice. Really nice. He tore the wrapper of the condom with his teeth and put it on, giving himself a couple of quick jerks before removing his fingers and wiping them off with the towel. He slicked his erection with the lube and put towel-dried hands on Isao's hips. He leaned over toward Isao's ear, slipping himself toward the tight heat before him, giving a nudge. "I'm doing it."

Isao exhaled. As more lightning flashed, the sound of the downpour outside felt as deafening as the ensuing thunder inside the tiny bedroom.

Ryousuke pushed in and the sensation was overwhelming. He really had been foolish to think his hand would be just as good. How would anything be better than burying himself into this? He pulled out and thrust in hard, hearing a groan escape both himself and his partner. The thunder clapped and Ryousuke knew he wouldn't really be able to last too long, especially since that feeling of being out of control was starting again. With every thrust, Isao pushed back, making the friction even more intense. It felt incredible, like his body was burning in the heat of the vice-like flesh.

He wondered if Fujiwara's body would feel even tighter, sweeter?

Oh God, Takumi...

If it was Fujiwara, if there was that one in a million chance that the fantasy would become real...

He was sure it never would.

Never.

Ryousuke gripped Isao's hips more firmly pulling the man's body back onto his aching member, and his mind lost all rationality.

He'd never hold Fujiwara.

He thrust into Isao's body.

He'd never kiss Fujiwara.

Never touch him.

Never fuck him.

Never...make love to him?

'Damn it. What the hell am I thinking?!'

Passion. It had to be.

No.

This was about relief, wasn't it? Isao gave his body to that. So what if the relief Ryousuke was seeking was relief from all the "nevers" he'd always have to have when it came to his Downhill Ace? He felt his body grow slick with sweat, his ears barely registering the moans and sounds of pleasure coming from the body under him over the storm outside. He just thrust and thrust and thrust, until it almost hurt more than it helped. There was no stopping it, it just happened like the bursting of the clouds.

Takumi. Takumi...so hot...so tight...so beautiful...you are...incredible...

"Ta..."

Shit!

He pushed himself deeply into Isao's body, coming hard. What the hell had he done? Had he almost just said another man's name? One more second and...

Ryousuke knew he was usually an asshole. He got it from his Father, came by it through nurture under the stifling burden of being the bocchama to the Takahashi name. His Father was a prick; arrogant, full of himself, the guy who treated his Mother like shit. The guy who bought his mistress a BMW on the sly and barely covered his tracks. The guy who showed up dutifully at home on weekends only to leave on Monday for his condo near to the hospital, to fuck his secretary every other damn night of the week. Insensitive prick.

And now, Ryousuke couldn't believe what had almost happened. Was he really turning into the man after all? Was it truly unavoidable?!

He pulled out of Isao's body and walked out of the room to the bathroom to clean up, holding his loosened pants up by the waistband as he removed the condom and washed. He looked into the mirror, and was thankful he didn't bother to turn on the light. When the lightning danced across his face, all he could see was a look of utter horror.

What had happened? Why did he feel...God, he didn't know what he was feeling. All it had taken was to allow the fantasy to get out of control...all it had taken was superimposing a mental image with the physical reality of getting a good lay...

"Ryousuke-san?" Isao called softly from the bedroom.

'Shit. Get it the hell together!'

He hadn't totally fucked up. He hadn't said Takumi's name. He hadn't. It was fine. It was all fine.

Ryousuke took a deep breath and splashed some cold water on his face before drying it off and walking back toward the bedroom, partially doing up his pants as he went.

"What the hell was that, Ryousuke-san?" Isao asked quietly when Ryousuke sat on the edge of the bed to put his shirt back on. He was smoking a cigarette and he offered it to share. Ryousuke figured he'd already broken plenty of rules tonight, so what the hell was one more? He took a long drag and handed it back, holding the smoke in for a while before releasing it. Damn. He missed those things too. "Ryousuke-san, tonight, what was that?" Isao asked again.

"What was what?"

"Look at me," the partner softly demanded, taking one more drag from the cigarette and putting it out as he exhaled.

Ryousuke looked. Isao had taken the bed sheet and laid it across his lower body and he was sitting up in the bed with an odd expression. But Ryousuke was finally calming down. He finally felt like he was back to normal. It was a relief. He continued to button his shirt and then he ran a hand through his hair that was still dampened with sweat. "Well?"

Isao moved closer to him in the bed. He reached out to brush an errant strand of hair back into place. Ryousuke stiffened, but he allowed it. "Have you really not been seeing anyone?" he asked quietly.

"Don't make me repeat myself," he replied, tucking in his shirt and fastening his pants and belt.

"Okay." Isao picked up his own pants from the floor and slid them on as he stood. "You could stay, you know. The weather's shitty."

"I'm not staying."

Isao nodded. "It was good..."

"Yeah..."

"Better than good," he added cautiously.

"It's been a while..."

"No, that's not it. Not entirely. You were...passionate."

Passionate? Was he?

"Think what you want," Ryousuke said offhandedly as he rose to claim his sweater from the other room.

"So good that it seemed like you might actually have...felt something..."

Ryousuke chuckled. "Of course I felt something. Something very nice indeed. Don't ruin it." He reached for his keys and took his cell phone off the table he'd set it upon and turned it on, checking for voicemail. None. Good.

Isao walked over to him and took the phone and keys from his hands and put them back down on the table, a look of slight consternation on his face. "That's not what I meant. I know it was a good fuck. I'm talking about feelings. You know, those things that most people tend to have. It caught me off guard to see that you really do have some of your own somewhere. You were passionate," he repeated. "It was...startling."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Our situation hasn't changed."

"No, I know that now, though, earlier, I had the stupid notion that maybe it had. But, even if our situation hasn't changed, yours has. There is someone."

Ryousuke rolled his eyes, and ran a finger along Isao's lips and chin. "There's no one. I had a pleasant evening. I'd like to end it here, though."

"You can't be like this forever, you know, Ryousuke-san. Sometime, some day, you'll have to let someone in. You won't be happy in life otherwise."

Happy? Since when was that relevant to anything? Kaori had made him happy once, and look how that shitstorm ended up.

Ryousuke reached again for his keys and for his phone, succeeding with taking them. "I'll call you."

"That's what you always say, but you seldom do."

He could feel the onset of a headache. This type of bullshit is exactly the kind of thing that had made him somewhat relieved to find out Isao had been dating someone else. Not bothering to hide his irritation, he replied, "And you have a boyfriend who hasn't even been gone long enough to have his presence erased from your home, and you're already going to bed with me. I wanted sex, you wanted sex, we had sex. Period. So don't talk down to me as if you know something about me that I don't know about myself."

"It doesn't have to be that way."

"Yes it does."

"You really think you feel nothing for anyone? That's not how it felt to me tonight."

"Isao-kun..."

Before Ryousuke knew what was happening, he was cut off with a stinging slap to the face. "What the hell was that for?!" he shouted.

"That was for the guy you fucked tonight, because it obviously wasn't me."

Ryousuke just stared. "I'm leaving. Enjoy the wine."

Before Isao could hit any more bullseyes, Ryousuke pulled on his shoes and left the apartment, admitting nothing; he jogged toward the FC, getting soaked to the skin the whole way. Once he got inside the sanctuary of the FC and turned the ignition, he released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

That was it. He had set out this night to do exactly what he did, right?

So why was that irritating frustration still there?

He was physically gratified, but, he was unfulfilled. And, as a special bonus, he also felt like shit. He knew he was an asshole, but he'd definitely crossed into a whole new level of being an asshole, even by his own standards. It wasn't Isao's fault that he became the unknowing participant in the dangerous game Ryousuke decided to play. He should be feeling guilty, but, it wasn't guilt exactly. It was only frustration toward his inability to stop his own pointless delusion, the fact that he involved another person was the worst collateral damage possible. He should know better; he had decided years ago that separate people and separate situations needed to remain separate from each other in order for him to keep focused and in control.

However, the frustration seemed to be ruling his life lately, whether it be over Fujiwara or over the fact that he felt like a mere pawn in his Father's game to be the perfect son to carry on the legacy, unable to break free from the family's expectations of him. That perfection eluded him in so many ways and it was taking entirely too much energy to maintain the illusion. When the illusion collapsed, even partially, what he was left with was a person he wasn't sure he actually liked. That person was very much like his Father after all, so maybe it was time to give up the fight he was fighting in order to keep some singular identity that was all his own. Clearly, that was what was expected anyway.

The time when he'd have to start living up to those damn expectations was about a year away from being within hand. All he had now was Project D, since he was pretty sure that he'd never have Isao again. The guy had been so right it was utterly horrifying.

He barely kept himself from uttering Takumi's name. He would have gotten his ass thrown out immediately, and he would have deserved it. He barely had control over it at all. No, he lost his control. The last time he allowed such a reckless loss of that, he was rewarded only with attending Kaori's funeral where it was pointless to lecture her about what she had done to herself and to him. Why? Because the dead don't fucking care about the messes they leave behind.

He knew he couldn't do this anymore. It was time to leave these affairs behind for good now, and just become the goddamn fucking filial son.

How much more would end up being on the list of things and people left behind before the year was out? Project D would be his final lifeline, his final connection to his own identity, his passion for the togue, and his passion for…him?

He definitely needed to leave that dangerous downhiller behind, and it needed to be item number one on that list if he knew what was good for him.

The defroster having done its job, he flipped on the radio to get the latest traffic and weather. He needed the distraction. He turned on the lights and windshield wipers, the rain slowing a little, but still coming down enough to be considered a downpour. He put the FC in gear and started to drive back to his Father's home, anxious to put this stormy night behind him just as he could put any opponent far behind him, so the headlights did nothing but disappear from his back mirror.

Well, almost any opponent.

But this time, it had nothing to do with a race, and Fujiwara was still hanging stubbornly around in the back mirror anyway. What kind of move would that guy make in this situation? Probably none.

Like the "ghost" he was, only in Ryousuke's own mind was Fujiwara there at all.

~end~