Moments In Time - Part II

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"What's the point? What's the point? Oh, oh fucking hell, what is the POINT?!!" Eiji threw the game controller away from him, where it hurtled just to the left of the TV, slamming into the wall and popping off its cord.

Inui barely glanced up from where he was executing a final series of jump-combinations, leaving his opponent brutally KO-ed. When he had properly entered his initials in as the top scorer, he set his own (intact) controller down and looked placidly over at Kikumaru, who was still hyperventilating.

"What are you looking at! UGH!" Eiji jumped up and stormed past the couch where Oishi was reclining, watching nervously, and stomped into the kitchen, around the corner and out of view.

"I think he may have taken the loss a little bit badly.." Inui remarked dryly, pushing his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. Oishi didn't have time to respond to that with his usual "that's Eiji"- his doubles partner came stomping back into the room, face red, and threw himself bodily onto the couch next to the fuku-buchou.

"It's not fair. It's not fair. It's not FAIR!" He whined petulantly, and Oishi hushed his griping with a soothing pat to that wild red head.

"I mean, Inui's never played the game before and I've beaten it like EIGHTY times!" Kikumaru felt the need to point out his awesome record of past victories.

Inui studied his teammate silently for a moment, then shrugged, making mental notes, having left his notebook at home. "I have a certain… penchant… a talent, even… for fighting games." The bespeckled teen said quietly.

Oishi laughed nervously at the infuriated pout that followed this statement. "Now, why are you getting so worked up over just one game?" He continued stroking Eiji calmingly, enjoying the feel of those fine locks tangled between his fingers. "If you want, I'll play you next, Eiji. You always beat me. I don't mind."

Just like a child, Kikumaru leapt excitedly off the couch. "YES! And I will crush you, I will smash you into pieces!" He did a poor imitation of Momo's 'Dunk Smash', rendering it even more flamboyant than it already was.

While his doubles partner was distracted, Oishi shot Inui an apologetic look, but Inui just shrugged and smiled fluidly, handing over the controller. It was growing dark anyway, and close to the time he usually met Kaidou out by the bridge.

A few minutes later, as he opened the door to leave, the data tennis player paused for one final moment to listen to Eiji's delighted screams and Oishi's shuddering moans. Whether Oishi was losing to Eiji, or they were both winning in a different game altogether, he wasn't entirely sure.

Closing the door behind him, he made another mental note to look for hickeys tomorrow.

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Hiyoshi smiled as he watched Jirou happily devour his ice cream cone, nimble tongue darting out to capture falling drops, melted by the heat of the overhead sun. Their wrinkled Hyotei uniforms, altered when they entered High School, were littered with tiny grass stains, paying tribute to the half hour the two had spent lounging in the courtyard after school.

"Ne, Hiyo? How's yours?" Jirou asked animatedly, looking up from the strawberry rain he was intent on catching.

Startled, Hiyoshi looked quickly away, having been caught staring. A slow blush crept stealthily across his cheeks. "It's fine." He said quickly, not even looking at the pralines and crème cone he had spent the rest of his lunch money on. He remembered, quite suddenly, Thursday's tennis practice. How he had showed Atobe his latest technique, and how Jirou, awake for a change, had squealed and gushed and jumped repeatedly over it, then later imitated the martial arts-esque nature of it, trying to pull a ninja move of some sort on Oshitari, and falling heavily onto his butt instead.

Blushing a vivid pink by now, Hiyoshi crammed the rest of the ice cream cone into his mouth, swallowed with cold difficulty, and shouldered his bag. "let's go!" He muttered after a brief moment of panicked chewing, grabbing Jirou's arm and pulling the surprised blond away form the vendor, across the street, and down a dark alleyway.

"What are you- mmmph!" Jirou's question was cut curtly off as Hiyoshi shoved him up against the brick wall, pressing hot, insistent lips to the volley genius'. Jirou's slim-fingered hand dropped his own strawberry ice cream, where it splattered across the asphalt, and hot with the afternoon sun, began to rapidly melt.

When Hiyoshi, inexperienced as he was with kissing, finally pulled back to breathe, damnit, breathe, Jirou's questioning gaze had grown very somber, highly unusual for the boy.

"Why did you do that, Hiyoshi-kun?" Jirou's lips were already starting to show the signs of irritated swelling, having been so brutally crushed right off the bat.

Hiyo looked angrily away, face red in shame and lust. "I don't know. I don't know." Jirou's questioning gaze lingered on him still. "I DON'T KNOW, OKAY?!" He started slamming his fist into the brick wall, and little specks of blood and flayed flesh were left in mounting numbers each time. Jirou grabbed at his wrist in apprehension.

"Well… don't hurt yourself!" He examined the tightly balled fist with obvious concern, making little worried noises as he picked at the bits of grit in the wound, and Hiyo flinched.

"Aren't you… mad?" Hiyoshi asked, after a few minutes of silent doctoring.

Jirou looked up, sunny smile back in place. "Of course not." He looked back down at the hand he held. "Actually, I was hoping you'd stop being so shy and kiss me soon… I just didn't quite expect such a… violent first time." He giggled and looked abashedly up at his taller, if younger, teammate.

Hiyoshi swallowed heavily, willing the shock down his esophagus and into the bitter acids of his belly. He took his hand back from the blond, feeling no pain, and used it to pull Jirou close, to his chest, resting his chin on that soft, curling head.

"But isn't this wrong?" He asked, quietly.

"Maybe." Came Jirou's muffled reply.

"But it's okay?" He pulled back, so that he could see that tanned, sleepy face. "If it's secret?"

"Sure." Jirou smiled again, that smile that melted his heart. "And I won't tell a soul. Will you?"

"Never." Hiyoshi nearly hissed with a fervent determination to thwart those that would even *dare* to rub 'politically correct' in his face.

"Okay." Jirou laughed, and tiptoed up, raised himself up, and pressed his lips into Hiyo's, softer than their first time, sweeter, too, as the blond still had strawberry ice cream on his lips, and Hiyo could taste that now, without the blood in the way.

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Marui nibbled on the wad of gum crammed inside his left cheek. It was freaking hot outside. His perfect hair was growing exceedingly frizzy.

Scratching indiscriminately at his crotch, the boy checked his watch. Where was Kirihara? Marui had even offered to pay for lunch, something that hardly EVER happened, he could assure you that, and his stupid kouhai had decided to stand him up? The twat, the little farker… he'd get Jackal to give him the most mind-numbing noogie at tomorrow's practice. Make sure it hurt for HOURS. Yeah.

Marui, busy fuming over his cup of mocha latte, perked up at the sound of a familiar voice. He looked around the inside of the café, and grinned when he spotted Niou and Yagyuu, a few booths down. How the three had ever missed each other, the red head didn't know- but this should be fun. Ooooh, yes, much much fun.

Were they on a date? Everyone on the team thought something was going on with those two. Even Sanada, who was loathe to spread or participate in gossip, had apparently made a comment about it to Yukimura, which Yanagi had overheard and promptly recorded into his notebook, which Kirihara had then filched and read aloud during changing in the locker-room.

This concept amused the hell out of Marui. Dating? LOVERS? He had to know, and by his balls, this was the perfect opportunity to find out.

Ducking down in his own booth, he tuned out the softly chattering patrons around him, and focused on the doubles partners, concentrating all his resolve onto overhearing their conversation. After a few minutes of such eavesdropping, his eyes grew wide in shock, and the wad of gum fell unattractively out of his mouth onto the floor.

"Ohh… ohhhhh… Yagyuuuuuuu-kun……" Niou's voice climbed octaves as he went on. "Say it again… please, please… say it again…"

"…"

And whispered: "Psst! Say it again, dammit!"

"Your. Voice. Makes me so. Hot." Yagyuu sounded like those words, obviously forced past his lips, were pure torture to mutter.

Unable to keep his curiosity from the getting the better of him, Marui glanced around the edge of the bench. He sputtered at the revelation this brought. Both Niou and Yagyuu had cell phones to their ears; apparently they were talking to each other, on said cell phones, while seated at the same table.

Niou pulled his silver, streamlined little Kyocera away from his ear, and sighed audibly. "Yagyuu, you're not helping me much." He broke into another one of his patented sex-demon-smirks. "I'm trying to find out if I'm good at phone sex or not, and you just sit there like a day-old corpse! I haven't dug up any bodies lately, so wouldja get to it already? C'mon, breathe heavily or something, jack off under the table, anything!" The silver-haired boy frowned.

Yagyuu sat unmoving, the cell phone still to his ear. "I don't like this. What if someone hears?" Marui wasn't sure if his teammate was looking around for eavesdroppers or not, his eyes being concealed by the glasses, but the redhead ducked momentarily anyway.

"Look, just this once, okay? Play along?" Niou pleaded, in a far-from-desperate tone. Yagyuu's shoulders drooped just a little bit, but, like the whipped bitch that he was (in Marui's opinion) he resumed the phone-sex session.

"Oh… Ahhh… ah, ah… I'm gonna come just thinking about you…" Niou's free hand moved from the tabletop to his lap, arousing more than just suspicion in Marui. "Say it again, Yagyuu…"

Yagyuu looked rather pale at this new turn of events. "Uh… uhm… I w-want to feel you beneath me, bucking, hot and s-sweaty……"

"Ohhh, yeah… I want to feel you riding me… your cock inside me, yeah… you're all over me, all over me, I'm gonna fucking come…"

Yagyuu, having grown increasingly uncomfortable with each word, couldn't handle it anymore. Sure, he was the epitome of composure both on and off the tennis courts, but when the boy he'd been in love with since his first year of junior high was saying these things to him, sounding so much like he meant it, like it could almost be real, he simply couldn't listen. This was how he shut himself off from the world.

"I- I've got to go, Niou." He stood from the table quickly, and left his doubles partner looking both surprised and delighted.

"Mission accomplished." The silver-haired teen murmured to himself, pocketing his cell phone and following Yagyuu out of the café at a leisurely pace. Marui watched them go, finished jacking off under his own table, cleaned up with a napkin that he left with tip, and then went to find Kirihara and dish every single little detail. By the next morning, he knew, the entire school would be talking, and he digested all of this juicy information eagerly as he strolled out the door, popping a new wad of bubblegum, kiwi.