You're watching him. A sidelong glance that doesn't reveal itself too obviously. He swipes the toilet paper along his inner thigh. Legs spreading slightly as the paper trails towards the juncture of his thighs, a glistening trail of semen behind.

He realises you're watching. His legs spread a little farther and you're treated to a momentary glance of his wet arsehole. You can't help grinning. His face flushes a deep red, almost the shade of his hair.

The sodden toilet paper slaps into your shoulder. It sticks.

'That's disgusting,' you comment.

Gakuto shrugs, 'It's yours.'

You can't help but smile.

'You can't smile like that, Yuushi. Everyone will know.'

You grab your shirt from the floor and pull it over your head. Then you realise that you probably look ridiculous with only a shirt on, everything else just hanging out. So you put your boxers on too.

Gakuto turns away when he pulls his pants on.

There's a space between you when you should be closest.

You fiddle with the buttons on your shirt. 'Was it okay?'

He sits back down on the edge of the bed. 'It was okay…'

Fuck.

You fall back onto the mattress. 'You didn't like it.'

'No,' he exclaims clambering onto his knees. 'It's not that.'

He looks down at you. Face earnest and worried. He's lying.

It was bad.

Fuck.

'Yuushi, don't leave.' His hand wraps around your arm as you move to stand. 'I'm sorry.'

You cover his hand with yours. 'It's okay…' You pick up your bag from the floor and swing it over your shoulder. 'We don't have to do it. We'll just do what we normally do, 'kay?'

He nods slowly. 'Promise me we're okay, Yuushi.'

'We're okay,' you echo.

Things aren't really okay.

The strangeness stays between you. Your rhythm is uneven; you can't seem to read Gakuto's movements on the court any longer. You know that he's hurt, but you can't touch him without wanting him, and you want to be wanted back.

Atobe is glaring down the court at you. Gakuto stands defeated at the net, racquet shaking in his fist. The others quietly turn away as Gakuto hurls his racquet at you, eyes glistening mouth twisted. He retreats to the clubhouse, his gait slightly uneven.

'You've strained your muscles,' you state as you enter the clubroom.

Gakuto is laid out on the bench; one leg folded on the bench, the other hanging off the side. His arm is flung over his face and you know he's been crying.

You straddle the bench at his feet, placing the racquets on the floor.

You touch him for the first time in a week. Your fingers curl about his ankle, just above his sock. You rest his foot on your thigh and then pull his other leg into the same position.

You're looking down his body, his legs slightly parted. The memory of your cum on his thighs makes you hard. This is how you should've done it.

'Your right,' you whisper.

He nods.

You run your hand up his thigh and fold his leg into his body. You pause when you feel a little resistance. 'Too far?'

'It's okay, a little farther,' he replies quietly.

You shuffle in a little closer to him on the bench. Your thighs graze the back of his legs and Gakuto drops his left leg to rest over yours, his foot hooks behind your knee. You press his leg closer to his chest, he grimaces. Gakuto grabs his own knee and holds it in place.

Starting at the joint under the buttock you apply pressure with your knuckles. 'That's good,' he groans. Keeping the pressure even you work the knotted muscle. As you work the back of is thigh your hand brushes close to his groin.

He's hard.

You're sweating harder than you did on the court. Shuffle farther up the bench, your own erection is only a heated inch from his body. He meets your gaze, but doesn't say anything. You flatten your palms against his thigh and knead the muscle. You lean forward and let him feel your hardness against him. His eyes close momentarily, and when they open, you know he wants you too.

You want to press yourself against him, lie down atop his body and grind yourself to completion, but that's what you did last time. You rub against him a little more aggressively, until his breath is panting through slightly parted lips.

'Yuushi…' His hand wraps around your wrist and he's pulling you down towards him. You grind down hard against him with a moan as you crawl towards his mouth that is promising you pleasure.

You consume him.

Inhale his scent as you take his mouth into yours. His lips vibrate against yours and the tension melts from his body. 'I want you so much,' you whisper into his lips. His mouth opens wider under yours, his hands slide under your shirt and press into your back.

He nods.

'I don't want you to hurt,' you murmur.

'You won't this time,' he smiles softly.

'I want to be perfect for you…'

His hands run soothingly over your skin, his hips gently grinding up into yours, driving you to distraction, as you try to keep focus. 'We'll do it just like this,' he whispers. 'And everything will be perfect… once we get off this bench.'

You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he hooks his legs around your hips. With a grunt you lift him from the bench in one movement. His ass squirms against your groin as he shifts in your arms. 'Have to get you home.'

He shakes his head and points to the first aid room. 'Medical emergency.'