A/N: I had this chapter ready, just forgot to post the previous one. So here you go!

Warning! Some mild mature stuff ahead.

Chapter 11 – Eating competitions and useless tents

~o~

It was hot. It was absolutely too hot.

And it wasn't hot as in a warm July morning in a sleeping bag but hot as in the acceleration of blood circulation that was caused by hormones that made your skin burn and get oversensitive. It also made certain body parts ache. Hotness that came from within.

The moment that the sweating started to billow overboard, Shinkai was startled awake.

The tent was dim and the environment quiet apart from occasional chirps from birds and crickets. Shinkai grabbed his phone from where it was lying beside his head, checking the time. Four. The morning wasn't even close.

He ripped his sleeping bag's zipper open, freeing his upper body. Cool air breezed across his shirt-covered chest, drying the sweat. It wasn't that hot in the tent after all. Without his sleeping bag he would have been shivering through the nights, but it still felt like his legs were on fire. He unwrapped himself from the sweaty sausage skin, lying down on top of it with his limbs spread out as wide as he could in the crowded space. His fingers brushed against Yasutomo's lower back. He was still sleeping with his face towards the wall after their nightly conversation. And that was good, since Shinkai really wasn't sure if he'd been able to look at his friend's face because…

Okay. Alright.

So he had had a dream. An erotic dream. The type that was very typical for a guy of his age. He had them a couple of times a week, though he usually couldn't remember details. They only left a throbbing pressure in his lower body – in those cases when they didn't proceed until the end, which happened quite rarely nowadays. Because he had a girlfriend, and even besides that he had learned to take care of himself and not let the pressure build up.

He had had an erotic dream. But instead of having it of his girlfriend or even some faceless woman…

..he had had it of his friend.

God damn Yasutomo. God damn him and his 'Hey Shinkai, by the way, I wanna screw you in the ass' revelations just before bedtime.

God damn Yasutomo, because he had made Shinkai actually think about it.

He couldn't remember details of his dream but he remembered Yasutomo's presence. His unique scent (lawn after rain – was it even possible to smell anything in your sleep?) and his slightly calloused fingers somewhere on his body. He remembered a strong sexual pressure – and even if he hadn't, he'd have felt the results in his lower body.

Shinkai lifted his hands to his face, wiping it. He let the air escape from his lungs before inhaling deeply again, held his breath and then relaxed, trying to wake up properly to clear his thoughts, because the world has a tendency to seem twisted and the problems seem to increase when it is four at the morning.

Phew. Oh boy.

Shinkai was one of those people who was said to be comfortable in their own skin. He had no self-esteem problems with his appearance (though his lips could have been a bit thinner and less ladylike) and he was okay with his personality. Yes, he too had his demons (no pun intended) and he didn't always like himself but it wasn't very often that he got confused with the little quirks of his mind or body. He knew that it was perfectly normal to have erotic dreams of your friends. Somebody, he couldn't remember who but it definitely wasn't Juichi, had said that he'd gone through all of his friend in his sleep. The human mind wasn't always logical, and especially not the subconscious.

But this… like he had already said, this was in a league of its own.

If he had had a random dream of Yasutomo without the recent discussions, he'd have just shrugged and laughed it off. Maybe mentioned it to the person himself so that they could have laughed at it together and Yasutomo could have called him a closet fag.

Ugh, better to not try to analyze it too much and just let the whole thing fade away on its own. He'd go to sleep again, and in the morning the world would be rotating in the right direction again.

He just had a minor problem. His erection, left by the dream, was of the calibre that getting rid of it would require either a shock (an ice-cold shower, getting caught by a friend or having a bear show up at the tent's door) or five hours worth of an extremely boring activity (like mathematics or politicians' jargon). Given that he didn't want to take care of it. Which actually sounded like the most appealing option. A stubborn pulse was throbbing in his groin and in his dick so hard that it would only take for him to lightly graze over it. If he just went back to sleep, he might wet his pants and he was already short on clothes.

There was just a minor detail. Yasutomo was sleeping next to him.

Jerking off next to your sleeping mates wasn't that uncommon. Shinkai was pretty sure that almost every one of them, maybe excluding Juichi, had done it sometimes during a training or race trip, but then they hadn't slept this tightly. Then they hadn't dreamt about their friends lying next to them. Or who knew if Yasutomo had. Dreamt about Shinkai.

The thought made shivers run through his body. He couldn't even identify them correctly – were they out of disgust? – but they made his erection twitch against the fabric of his pants.

How far was that bathroom again?

He hauled himself up, planning to head straight to the bathroom to take care of his problem but the new position made his pants rub against the sensitive head of his dick and a new wave of pleasure washed over him, his breath getting stuck in his throat.

Okay then. Let's forget those washing facilities. Tissue. Where had he hidden his tissues?

He found a couple of wrinkled tissues in the side pocket of his bag and after grabbing them, he lay down once more. His breathing was becoming laborious, and he tried to calm it down while listening for any sounds from Yasutomo. He was breathing in a way that people breathe when they are sound asleep, not silently but letting out little snores. Yasutomo would never fake snoring. The coast was clear as long as Shinkai kept quiet.

He dug himself back in the half-open sleeping bag, pushed his pants down in order to not wet them and grabbed himself. The touch of fingers sent a new tremor through him, and he felt blood packing in his aching shaft with a whole new power. A few strokes would do the trick.

It took him about ten seconds to arch his back and wet the tissue. He clenched his teeth to keep himself from making any sounds as the orgasm washed over him, making his groin convulse and his toes curl. It was quick and sharp, a moment's pleasure and then relaxation, the only purpose being just to relieve pressure. He kept quiet, but if Yasutomo had been awake, he would have figured from the rhythm of his breathing what he was up to.

He was left to lie on his back, boneless, waiting for his breath to even before he wrapped the wet tissue inside of another, crunched it into a ball and placed it next to his sleeping back (on the wall's side).

"Yasutomo, you asshole. I hope you're happy now," he whispered to the tent ceiling before tucking himself inside his sleeping bag again and closing his eyes.

"Shinkai, Shinkai, Shinkai!"

"Go, Tadokoro!"

"Tadokorocchi!"

"You can do it, grandpa! Show them what you're made of!"

"Just a little more, Shinkai! Show them that Hakogaku are champions in other things besides cycling!"

"We have faith in you, Tadokoro-san!"

"Eat faster, ass-face! Let them see there's more to you than bunny farming!"

Jinpachi's face was emitting shock as he glanced at Yasutomo and returned to Shinkai. "Hayato, you want me to slap Arakita for you?"

Yasutomo threw a contemptuous look at Jinpachi. "Like you could do it, featherweight."

"Shut up, I've got more muscle than you."

"It's all fat."

"It's definitely not fat!" Jinpachi was practically screaming. "You're the one who gets wiped out to the sky like a dry blade of grass immediately when the wind speed exceeds 5 meters per second!"

Arakita leaned over the table. Poorly disguised rage was dancing in his eyes as he drilled his gaze into Jinpachi. "You wanna arm wrestle?"

"No. I want to see how this turns out."

"But after that."

For a moment, Jinpachi looked like he was looking for a way out of the challenge, but he apparently had something to prove. "Deal."

"Shit, this is getting better yet!" Naruko exclaimed. "Hey, old man, beat that upstart quickly so we'll get to see the next match!"

"Hmm-mh!" Tadokoro was chuffing with his mouth full. He chewed and swallowed laboriously. "Someone go and tell the staff to bring more food to the buffet!"

"Mr. Pierre is already on it."

"Excellent." A choked burp. "How're you doing, skinny pants? Feel like giving up already?"

Shinkai flashed him a wide smile even though he knew that his teeth were covered in food mash. "Definitely not. What is it, toothpick, you getting worried there?"

For a passing second, it looked like Tadokoro was about to frown, but he fixed his appearance quickly. "For you, yes."

"No need to worry about me," Shinkai said. If he was speaking truthfully, he actually hoped that Sohoku's giant sprinter would get a full stomach soon. Because he was starting to be. Utterly. Completely. Stuffed. He had already had to open the button of his shorts to get more room for his bloating and soon he'd have to do the same thing to the zipper too.

They had seen the start of the Tour's 13th stage, and after that it had again been time to change their location, but by the decision of majority they had stayed in the city of Tours to have lunch before driving to the next place called Lyon, where they'd get to watch the 14th stage's home stretch. First they had been planning to look for a French bistro to have a taste of local cuisine, but then they had walked past an Indian restaurant that was serving a lunch buffet. Seven euros to eat all you want. And at that point things had gotten out of hand.

Nobody had suggested an eating competition; somehow they had just drifted into it. Naruko, who ate like a starving elephant himself, had pointed out – noticed – that Shinkai was gorging almost as much food as Tadokoro.

Almost. That had been the key word.

Shinkai had a competitive drive, but technically it only went off when cycling. Usually he just did what he wanted and let the other people fuss. It consumed energy needlessly and elevated the stress levels to compete over unnecessary things. But when Jinpachi and Yasutomo and Izumida had started to argue with the Sohoku guys about which team's senior sprinter ate more, a tiny spark had lit up in Shinkai's gut.

And why not? The buffet was full of chicken tikka masala, lamb korma, shrimp vindaloo, paneer cheese in tomato curry sauce and naan bread. Shinkai had eaten Indian food maybe only once before. He hadn't remembered it was this tasty. At the point when they had started to compete with Tadokoro, he'd decided to stick with the milder curries. The spiciest dish of the buffet had already made him sweat so that his fringe had turned into curls. He strategically chose chicken and vegetable curries because they weren't as heavy as lamb.

But now, after the fourth dish, he was beginning to understand what it meant to be literally 'fed up with something'.

"In middle school Shinkai was the one to arrange eating performances during breaks. Other students even brought him food for it. One time he tried to eat eighty takoyaki balls. He got up until seventy-one when the bell rang," Manami told them.

For a passing second, embarrassment tried to mess up Shinkai's rhythm. "Juichi, didn't you promise that you weren't going to tell that to anyone!"

Juichi kept his posture. "I can't recall there was any discussion on the matter."

"That's nothing, really," Teshima said. "One time we went to a restaurant with Tadokoro after a race and the next day the restaurant had to keep their doors closed because they ran out of everything." Aoyagi nodded enthusiastically to his teammate's words.

"Near our school there's a buffet restaurant that doesn't even let Shinkai in anymore," Manami said.

"But one morning at a training camp Tadokoro emptied the fridge before we were even awake and that camp was kilometres away from the nearest shop…"

The original purpose of the competition was turning from eating to embarrassing the competitors. Instead of oohing in amazement, the supporters of the opposite side burst into laughter. Shinkai tried to ignore his environment and concentrate only on how he could swallow the contents of his plate. He took a short break, hoping that his stomach would work faster.

A chef came to pour more chicken and lamb into the buffet and Tadokoro jumped onto his feet, marching to fetch his fifth serving. Damn it. Shinkai let out a bubbling burp that felt more like a small puke and lifted his fork again. He was good at approximately two things in his life. The other one was cycling, the other was eating. How could he look at himself in the mirror if he lost one of his merits?

But after downing the last of his curry he realized that he simply couldn't eat any more. The mere thought made him nauseous and he was afraid to stand up as he'd probably tear at the seams. And that blasted Tadokoro was already munching his latest fill of plate.

The fork dropped from his hand with a clang. "I can't. I can't anymore."

"What the fuck!" Yasutomo yelled. "Fucking eat!"

"Can't. Gonna puke soon." He leaned back on his seat, holding his stomach. "I give up. You win, Tadokoro."

Tadokoro let out a roar that sounded more like a bear preparing to fight than human and slammed his hands on the table. The other customers and the staff probably jumped half a meter into the air out of fright.

Yasutomo didn't take losing too well. "Congratulations. You just became completely useless."

"It would be interesting to see you eat that amount of food," Jinpachi remarked. "Hayato, are you okay? You look a little sick."

Shinkai wiped his forehead. He was still sweating and his cheeks were burning. Maybe he should have stopped with the previous serving. "Ungh, sure. I'll be fine. I just need to... sit for a while before we get going."

Tadokoro ate one more forkful as if to affirm his victory, but then pushed away his plate and grunted painfully. He had kept his posture neutral throughout the competition, Shinkai had to give him that.

"What will your digestion say about that?" Yasutomo asked him. "I have to sleep in the same tent as you."

"There isn't a food that my digestion couldn't handle." Though at the moment there was a bitter taste of lamb korma lurking in his throat, making him swallow repeatedly. His stomach was full up to his esophagus. "Besides, you don't 'have to' sleep in the same tent with me. Until now you've wanted to yourself. We can switch if you're afraid of my digestion. You go with Juichi and Manami, and I can share my tent with Izumida."

"Nope. Not gonna happen."

Shinkai waited for an explanation. It never came.

Instead, he started to feel his stomach convulse. And then cramp. And then cramp a bit more. Maybe he shouldn't have spoken so quickly. Indian food used spices that his stomach wasn't used to.

"I could pop in the bathroom for a minute, though."

"After that gorging I bet you're going to push out a five-kilo dump!" Naruko exclaimed. "I always have to sit for at least half an hour on the toilet after a spicy meal. There's probably going to be some serious tumbling in your gut soon!"

Onoda tried to hush his friend. "Naruko-kun, I'm not sure if the others want to hear…"

"Pfft, we all have to shit, don't we?"

"If someone needs to go, I recommend that you get in line soon. There's only one booth for each sex," said Izumida who had gone to the restaurant's bathroom before they started eating.

"I'm going to go first then." Shinkai climbed to his feet. All the blood suddenly left his head, making him almost reel. He had to support himself on the back of the chairs. Luckily his balance returned soon. He really didn't want to ask for an escort for a bathroom visit.

"Leave some toilet paper for the others too!" Naruko hollered after him. Thank god, the other customers didn't understand Japanese.

When Shinkai returned, Jinpachi and Yasutomo were already beginning their arm-wrestling. Okay… he had thought that they had only been blustering.

"I think the staff might have something to say about that," Izumida mused as Jinpachi grabbed Yasutomo's offered hand.

"They're not gonna say anything if they can't see," Naruko said. "Hey, grandpa, move to the front!"

Tadokoro moved to cover the visibility of the counter and didn't even react to the name that Naruko used.

Manami claimed the role of the setter for himself. "Ready… set… GO!"

First it looked like Jinpachi was going to slam Yasutomo's hand on the table right away but Yasutomo pulled himself together quickly, straightening their forearms. If Shinkai had bet on the winner, he would have invested his money in Yasutomo. Jinpachi wasn't weak by any means, but Yasutomo was driven by the rage of a wild animal. There was the same fire burning in his eyes as during races. And Shinkai already knew what he was thinking: Hell, if he lost to Jinpachi, who he had called a bitch, he would never be able to look at his teammates in the eyes again.

Contrary to Shinkai and Tadokoro, nobody dared (or had the energy) to cheer at the wrestling duo. Everyone was just staring, afraid to even touch the table. After half a minute their arms were shaking and Yasutomo dominated the match for a while. But then Jinpachi corrected his posture and their arms returned to the neutral zone.

And that continued for so long that the audience started to get bored. It seemed that Jinpachi and Yasutomo were equally strong. When the staff started to throw glances at their direction, Juichi decided to break it off.

"Okay, that's enough. Stop! It's a draw!"

"Wha– no, it's not!" Yasutomo burst out, and at the same time his concentration wavered so that Jinpachi was able to slam his hand down on the table.

"Hah, I won! What did you say about fat again, stick man?"

"It doesn't count. Fuku-chan called it off!"

"Of course it counts!"

"No, it doesn't! I stopped pushing against you!"

"Yeah, yeah. You just don't want to admit that you have two threads in your arms instead of biceps."

Shinkai and Izumida had to grab Yasutomo under his arms, as he was storming across the table to strangle Jinpachi.

"Toudou," Makishima said. "Fukutomi did cut off the match before you managed to slam Arakita's hand on the table."

"But if we had continued for even one more second, I'd have won!"

"Maybe, maybe not. Yasutomo got distracted when Juichi told you to stop," Shinkai said.

"Shut up, don't you try to defend me!" Yasutomo snarled. "And you, you god damn bag of peas, we're gonna have a rematch tonight!"

Jinpachi crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat with an extremely self-satisfied smile on his lips. "Fine by me."

"And then nobody is gonna cut us off. The match ends only when your hand hits the table."

"Don't you mean yours?"

"Okay, that's enough," Juichi told them. "We need to collect our stuff and change the location. We have a couple of hours drive ahead of us."

They had to stop twice during their drive due to the side effects caused by Indian food. Shinkai didn't have to go anymore – he'd been right about his digestion – but practically everyone else had to. Their next location was a camping area near Lyon, in a small medieval village with a name that sounded like something a pig would say (Shinkai couldn't remember it more precisely). They set up their tent with a routine, and they even had several hours to go and take a look around. Jinpachi got it into his head that he wanted to see a local clay pot museum and dragged Makishima along with him. They didn't return before ten o'clock. Yasutomo said to Shinkai that he really didn't want to know what the duo had been doing, to which Shinkai answered that at least neither one of them was drunk. But he too suspected that they had done something else during their trip other than just ogling at ancient clay pots.

Around half past ten, everyone was ready to call it a night and get into their tents. And that was good, because at the same moment a heavy downpour hit the campsite.

Shinkai was amongst the last ones to return from the bathrooms, and he had to run to the camp to avoid getting another shower.

Yasutomo was already lounging on his sleeping back, playing with his cell, as Shinkai pulled the tent door open and dived inside.

"Don't touch the ceiling, water will soak through," he said over his phone.

"It shouldn't do that so easily."

"I'm not so sure. This is the tent that Fuku-chan got from the birdwatching club."

Shinkai who was just arranging his toiletries back into his bag stopped. "The one that can't hold water?"

"Yeah, that one."

"What the fuck? Why have we brought such a crappy tent with us?"

"You can go and ask Fuku-chan that."

"We can't sleep here if the rain continues." As to confirm his words, a wet spot started forming in the ceiling. "It will become a pond!"

"Mm-m."

Yasutomo took the whole thing very lightly, considering that he had a tendency to catch all the spring and autumn colds. He'd been strangely quiet the whole afternoon and evening, hadn't even reminded Jinpachi about the arm-wrestling match (though Jinpachi hadn't reminded him either, but he had won after all). Shinkai didn't know what kind of mood swing his tent mate was having and at the moment he didn't care either. Priorities first. Sleeping in a wet tent would give them the cold of the century. Humid air and wet hair were already making him shiver.

"This isn't working. We have to change our accommodation."

"How? Are you gonna go and cuddle with Izumida in his sleeping bag?" There was more sarcasm in Yasutomo's voice than Shinkai thought necessary.

"If I must. You can stay here if you like, but I don't wish to sleep in a puddle. Besides, our stuff will get wet too."

Yasutomo huffed and pulled himself upright, tucking his phone into his pocket. "Okay then, do you think we could make a bed in the back of the van?"

"Kinjou said the seats are detachable, so it should be possible." Hopefully the mechanism was simple.

Shinkai pulled on his coat that held water the best and covered his head with its hood. For a moment, it looked like Yasutomo was not going to lift a finger to rearrange their sleeping quarters, but then he let out another huff and grabbed his coat too.

"The car is locked and Mr. Pierre has the key," Shinkai said as they stepped outside in the pouring rain. Christ, the water was falling down with such a force that it would test the other tents too. "Which one is theirs?"

"It's the big blue one." Yasutomo pointed at the tent set up right beside the car. Since his coat didn't have a hood, he had to pull the neck part over his head to prevent his hair from getting soaked but that resulted in his lower back getting a good whipping from the rain.

Shinkai lifted his hand to knock, remembering then that knocking didn't really work with tents and instead calling out. "Kinjou-san? Excuse me! Could you open up, please?"

A rustle came from inside and then the zipper was pulled up. Kinjou's eternally serious face peeked out from the opening.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, but our tent can't hold water," Shinkai explained. "Could we maybe get the key to the car? We'd spend the night in it."

"Yes, of course." Kinjou vanished back inside. Shinkai heard him asking for the key from Mr. Pierre. He pulled his hood over his head better. He hadn't been outside for half a minute and he was already like a drowned rat. Then Kinjou reappeared, handing him the key. "Do you know how to detach the seats?"

"I don't know the system really."

"There are grooves in the floor in which the seats are pushed in and locked into place," came Mr. Pierre's voice from inside. "It should be pretty easy, but come and tell me if you don't know how to do it."

"Alright, thanks."

Kinjou looked at him for a moment, his face thoughtful, before turning back inside the tent. "Tadokoro, go and help them out."

Surprisingly, Sohoku's giant sprinter didn't protest his fate. He crawled out with a grunt but only cursed the weather. He was only wearing a tee shirt and boxers with bears printed on them (how appropriate), and the sky flood hit his light clothing with remarkable force.

"You go and fetch your stuff. I'll go and remove the seats."

Shinkai dropped the key into his open palm. "But wouldn't it be quicker if we helped you?"

"It's not gonna take long." Tadokoro smirked at him before opening the middle door and slipping inside.

Shinkai didn't waste time arguing. He wanted to get into his warm sleeping bag soon. Yasutomo was already collecting their stuff and Shinkai waited outside, grabbing the items that were handed over to him. They had to empty the whole tent.

Tadokoro was efficient. As Shinkai went to throw the first bag in the car, he had already removed two seats.

"It's gonna be pretty cramped. I had to pile the removed seats behind the front seat row because there isn't any other place for them. Why the hell did you take such a lousy tent with you?"

Shinkai sighed. "I'd tell you if I knew."

Yasutomo followed with the rest of their stuff, dropping them onto the front traveller's seat. Shinkai still felt like they should help Tadokoro but the guy seemed to have a good momentum going so he didn't want to interfere. Shame though, that he hadn't clocked it. Roughly estimated, it had taken Tadokoro only five minutes to remove all the necessary seats.

"It fast when you know what you're doing," he said as Tadokoro straightened himself as far as he could in the car, wiping his hands. "Thank you, Tadokoro-san."

"You're welcome. The floor's pretty hard but maybe it'll do for one night."

"Better that than a puddle."

Tadokoro left, leaving them to arrange their stuff on the car's not-so-clean floor. They had the pads to keep the sleeping bags from getting dirty, but they weren't much of a mattress.

"Fucking hell, how uncomfortable," Yasutomo complained as they had lain down. Because of the removed seats they weren't able to lie properly in line with the van's walls so they had settled with their heads in the one corner of the space and their feet in the opposite corner. One person would have been able to lie there without touching anything, but because there were two of them, their feet brushed against the car walls. Their soaked clothes had been hung over the seats and the windows were already starting to fog up from humidity. But it was still drier than outside or in the tent. Drier and warmer.

"Would have you preferred to wallow in a pond?" Shinkai asked. "Or I suppose that Izumida's sleeping bag is still available."

"Shut your mouth," Yasutomo grumbled, rolling onto his side to face Shinkai. His eyes were squeezed shut and the lower part of his face was buried in the sleeping bag. "Hey, Shinkai."

Shinkai had just gotten out his detective novel and was very much planning to read it for a bit – for what he could see in the dimly lit car, which wasn't much – but Yasutomo's tone told him that he was about say something that would steal Shinkai's attention completely. Something that would involve him. Something that would most probably be connected their earlier questionable conversations.

He stifled a sigh. "Yeah?"

"What do you say if we open our sleeping bags and use them as blankets?"

"Why'd you want to do that?"

"Because it's so suffocating to sleep in this sausage skin. We'd get more room for our limbs."

"You can do that if you want, but there will be even less padding under your back."

"No, I meant that we'd open both of them, put the other one under our backs and use the other one as a blanket."

"So we'd share a blanket?"

He got a reticent affirmation. Yasutomo still had his eyes closed and was clearly trying to look like it didn't matter that much. And Shinkai wouldn't have thought anything of the suggestion, had there not been certain conversation lurking in the recent history. The sleeping bags weren't that wide; they would have to sleep really close to each other.

"We can use mine as a mattress if you're afraid of yours getting dirty."

Shinkai was about to decline, but some twisted curiosity in the back corner of his mind stopped him. Maybe he wanted to see what Yasutomo would do. How far would he dare to take his experiments without Shinkai's approval?

I wonder what Ayane would say if she heard about me sharing a blanket with that 'maniac'?

He waited for a pinch of guilt from his conscience, and it came after a little while. But it was subdued and easily pushed aside. Curiosity brushed it away without effort.

With Yasutomo, it was wrong to talk about curiosity anymore. It sounded more like an obsession.

"Okay then," he said. He had waited for a reaction and didn't have to be disappointed. Yasutomo's eyes flew open and he yanked his chin out of the sleeping bag. Shinkai sat up and started to unzip his sleeping bag. "I'll open this up. You take care of yours."

Yasutomo crawled out to sit up too, and a very weird, but in its own way also very endearing, confusion was painted all over his face. One of those expressions many people didn't even know that he was capable of.

"What are you ogling at there?" Shinkai asked. "Get to work so we'll have a chance to catch some sleep tonight."

Yasutomo mumbled something that sounded like swear words, but he began opening his own sleeping bag. He avoided looking at Shinkai, pretending to concentrate on the task at hand, but Shinkai could see a small smile on his lips.

There was a faint fluttering in his stomach that absolutely shouldn't have been there. Not in this situation.

He might regret his curiosity in the end.

A/N: Pointless eating competition is pointless. For some reason they spend a lot of time in the tents / sleeping bags in this fic. : D And yay, I managed to squeeze in some poop talks à Naruko!