Title: Unfinished Business
Summary: There are things Yuuta and Mizuki left undone; now it's time to take care of them.
Notes: Written for IJ's Porn Battle, to the prompt "Prince of Tennis, Mizuki/Yuuta, ten years later." Smut mostly in passing.
Unfinished Business
Face to face with someone he'd only seen on the television or in the pages of tennis magazines for the past few years, Mizuki Hajime found himself at a loss for words. "I suppose you don't even remember me," he said, and then cursed himself for the inanity of it.
But a grin split across Yuuta's face anyway. "Mizuki-san! Is it really you?" he asked, and didn't wait for confirmation before shaking Hajime's hand anyway. "What on earth are you doing here?"
"I might ask you the same thing." Hajime glanced over Yuuta's shoulder at the club's dance floor, pointedly. "Aren't you meant to be training for the Open?"
Yuuta's grin didn't even waver. "We're taking the night off. Some of the guys have never been to Tokyo before, so I said I'd show them around."
Hajime surveyed the club, which was dark and smoky and crammed full of Tokyo's youngest and brightest. "And you're showing them all the most cultured things, of course."
Yuuta laughed. "Nothing but the best." He grinned again. "You here with anyone?"
"No," Hajime admitted, after a startled moment.
"Great!" Yuuta caught his hand again. "You can catch me up on how you've been."
"But--your, ah, friends--?" Hajime protested, even as Yuuta pulled him away from the dance floor, over to one of the tables where it was marginally quieter.
Yuuta shrugged. "They're all dancing. They'll be fine." He sprawled into a chair, all lean limbs and grace, and grinned at him, mischief in his eyes. "Think they're planning on getting themselves laid tonight, anyway. I don't think I'll see 'em again until they drag themselves in tomorrow morning."
Hajime supposed he could sympathize with that. "If you're sure I'm not intruding..." Yuuta gestured at a chair, insistent, so he sat. "I knew you were in Tokyo, but I didn't think for a second I'd actually run into you." He moved his chair closer to Yuuta's, so they wouldn't have to shout at each other to be heard over the music.
"Yeah, you could have knocked me over with a feather when I turned around and saw you standing there." Yuuta leaned closer. "So, how've you been? I haven't heard from you in forever."
Hajime's fault, that; he'd become slower and slower to answer Yuuta's emails after he had left, as it became increasingly difficult to find things to say to him that weren't commonplaces, things that couldn't possibly be interesting for Yuuta to hear. "I've been well," he said, and shrugged. "It's mostly the usual."
"Yeah?" Yuuta's smile didn't waver. "So tell me about it."
Hajime did, telling Yuuta about his job (financial management, responsible for juggling investments, and if it wasn't as immediately gratifying or unpredictable as managing a tennis player who always found a way to surpass his expectations, it was satisfying in its own way). He kept a careful eye on Yuuta, wary of boring him, but Yuuta listened like every word thrilled him. Maybe they even did; maybe he hadn't needed to be leery of emailing Yuuta with everyday things after all.
Still. There was no point in babbling, and he stopped himself. "What about you?"
Yuuta shrugged. "Tennis, tennis, and more tennis," he grinned. "I tell you, it's a rough life."
"I can see how much you're suffering," Hajime told him; it made Yuuta laugh. "I always knew you'd go far."
Yuuta's expression shifted from its good-natured grin to something surprised, and almost shy, before he ducked his head to hide it. "Wouldn't have, if it hadn't been for you," he said, gruff, soft enough that Hajime had to lean close to hear it.
"Don't be stupid," Hajime told him, "of course you would have." Someone as bright and driven as Yuuta couldn't do anything else. "I knew that from the first time we met."
"Mizuki-san..." Yuuta looked up again, and his smile was something softer, more open than Hajime had expected; it caught him somewhere under his ribs and lodged there, glowing warm. "Thanks."
"It was my honor," Hajime said, suddenly deeply conscious of how close they were sitting, and of the clearness of Yuuta's eyes, and of the weight of the things that had gone unsaid and undone when they'd been too young to know how. "I should--"
Yuuta stopped him short by resting just his fingertips against the back of Hajime's hand. "You got anywhere you gotta be tonight?"
"No," Hajime told him, mouth running dry. "Not at all."
Yuuta's mouth turned up at the corners, but his eyes were still soft and shy. "Then... spend it with me?"
"Yes," Hajime said, "yes, of course, I'd love to."
And it would have been enough of a reward to see the way delight lit Yuuta's eyes.
He'd always thought that Yuuta looked good, on the tennis courts or off, and that conviction had only deepened as he'd watched Yuuta grow up, even at a distance.
Yuuta with his clothes off, though, was magnificent.
Hajime wouldn't have expected Yuuta to be a patient lover, but he seemed content to reach for Hajime and murmur satisfied nonsense as they ran their hands over each other, exploring each other, easy and unhurried. Hajime himself was content to touch Yuuta slowly, to learn the definition of his muscles and the grain of his skin, stroking Yuuta until he was nearly purring, and to let Yuuta kiss him, over and over, painstaking, mouth tracing over Hajime's skin until every square centimeter felt like it was glowing with the overload of sensation. Perhaps it was all the time that had passed; as teenagers they wouldn't have known what they were doing, or how good it could feel just to touch a lover for the sake of touching. They certainly wouldn't have understood the sweetness of delayed gratification, of how good it was to wait until touching was no longer enough, or how good the delay made finally sinking into Yuuta's body feel, with Yuuta's moans hitching in his throat and his fingers plucking at Hajime's shoulders, or the bliss of seeing Yuuta dissolve into pleasure, and letting himself fall after him.
After they had stilled, Hajime let himself settle over Yuuta, and sighed softly. Presently, Yuuta murmured, "You stopped writing."
It wasn't an accusation, or a question, and Hajime could let himself answer it honestly. "I told myself that there wasn't anything I could say to you that you'd be interested in hearing."
Yuuta's voice was mild. "That's pretty dumb."
The laugh bubbled up before Hajime could stop it. "Yes," he agreed. "I'm... wiser... now."
Yuuta lifted a hand and stroked it through Hajime's hair. "Glad to hear it," he said, and his voice was rich with satisfaction.
Hajime dropped a kiss against the side of Yuuta's throat, and pressed closer. "Yes," he said, quietly, and gave thanks for the prospect of fresh starts.
end