Hikaru No Go Fan Fiction ❯ The Extent of Denial ❯ Turnabout Is Fair Play ( Chapter 16 )

Sorry for the delay in updating! Life gets in the way. But I swear to you, I will complete this fic, no matter how long it gets. I will not give up! Thank you so much for all of the wonderful comments! Waya…ahhh!! >_<

 

 

 

 

 

Hikaru tucked his feet beneath him as he settled on the couch, feeling a nervous fluttering in his stomach at the thought of being questioned by anyone about Akira.

 

Isumi set his sake cup down on the small table beside the couch and sat down with a deep sigh. After a moment, the dark-haired boy turned his head to pin Hikaru with a look. “You haven't answered me, Hikaru. What do you think you're doing? What are you hoping to accomplish with Touya?”

 

“I…told you. I like him best.”

 

“So you don't love him?” Isumi pressed, blue eyes intent.

 

Hikaru glanced away at the bathroom door. “I don't know. I don't know what that's like. Besides, I thought that those sorts of things didn't really happen.”

 

“You've been hanging out with Waya for too long,” Isumi muttered under his breath.

 

“What?” Hikaru blurted, startled.

 

“Nothing. Disregard that. Suffice to say, it is possible for boys to fall in love with boys.”

 

“Oh…do you have experience with that…?” he began, intrigued. He broke off when Isumi's eyes narrowed.

 

“Hnn.” The other pro took another sip of his sake, looking markedly unhappy for a moment before his expression smoothed out.

 

That response didn't exactly invite further questioning. Things were slowly beginning to add up in Hikaru's mind. “I want to be close to Akira,” he offered quietly.

 

Isumi's lips thinned. “It's apparent that you have strong feelings for him. But Touya seems rather confused, and maybe even unwilling.”

 

Hikaru gave a weary sigh and rubbed his face. “I know. I'm confused, too, and he's giving me mixed signals. I don't know what he feels, but he did kiss me on his own once.”

 

The other boy's brows rose. “Really? Then…?”

 

“Then he said he only did it because I looked like I needed it,” Hikaru continued quietly, staring fixedly down at the couch cushions.

 

“That seems a bit suspicious.”

 

“That's why I'm confused about how he feels. I don't know what else to do except to leave him alone as he asks.”

 

“Are you okay with that, Hikaru?”

 

He frowned, looking up sharply to meet Isumi's concerned eyes. “Of course not, but there's nothing I can do about it if that's what he wants. The last thing I want is to push things and lose his friendship. He's more important to me than anyone.”

 

“So nothing has ever happened between the two of you, aside from that little kiss at the club.”

 

Hikaru blushed, smiling slightly as he recalled. “Not really, just that and the other kiss. You know what's really awful? I somehow ended up getting this embarrassing tattoo of his name when I was in a drunken stupor, and he saw it.”

 

Isumi was startled into a laugh. “Really? You? How did that happen? Where is it?”

 

He blushed harder. “You really don't want to know where it is, but…I woke up with his name on my ass, of all places.”

 

The dark-haired pro's eyes went wide before he burst out into hysterical laughter.

 

“Isumi!! Stop laughing so hard! It was Waya's fault!”

 

Isumi managed to regain control of himself and wiped away a tear with the back of his hand. “Ahh, I can't believe it. That's so funny. So Waya made you go? He never told me that.”

 

“Yeah, and apparently he got a tattoo, too, but he wouldn't tell me where or what it was.”

 

The other boy looked puzzled. “That's strange, I'm sure I would have seen it when…” Isumi suddenly stopped, a slight blush staining his cheeks. “When we were swimming or something.”

 

Hikaru didn't reply for a moment, too busy contemplating what the blush and pause in Isumi's speech were covering for. “He must have gotten it in the same sort of place that I got mine in. You wouldn't have seen it in that case…right?”

 

The dark-haired boy shook his head, getting up to refresh his sake bottle.

 

He watched his friend, intrigued. He'd never seen Isumi behave so strangely before. “So what's going on with you that has you bothered?”

 

The other pro paused in his actions for a moment before responding. “It's nothing you need to be troubled with, Hikaru. I just don't want to discuss it. Thanks for caring, though.”

 

Hikaru was about to respond with indignation when the bathroom door opened. He hadn't realized that the sound of the shower had stopped.

 

Akira wandered out in matching white pajama pants and top, lovely green hair slightly tousled and damp.

 

He resisted the urge to wrinkle his nose at the stodgy, boring sleepwear. He would have been surprised if his rival had chosen something else, to tell the truth.

 

“Are you ready for bed, Hikaru? I'm exhausted.” Akira approached, aqua eyes hopeful and weary.

 

“Sure. Waya and I have had sleep-overs here before, so I can set it up.”

 

Isumi left the kitchen, detouring to scoop up his sake cup. “I'll be in my room and awake for a little while if either of you need me.” With that, their host retreated, shutting the door behind him.

 

Hikaru shrugged and busied himself with getting the sheets.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Akira could not sleep. He had never slept beside anyone before, and even though he could just barely hear Hikaru's soft breathing in the darkness, it was there.

 

Hikaru was asleep, he was certain. What if the other boy rolled over onto him? What would he do? It would be terribly embarrassing to have to wake his friend up in a situation like that. Perhaps he should just let Hikaru sleep on if that happened.

 

He shivered at the thought of being pressed against the bleach-banged boy all night. He remembered what the weight of the other pro's body felt like, and he was quite certain that he would never sleep tonight if that happened.

 

Akira slowly turned his head to the side to look at Hikaru. The other boy was turned away from him, the back of his head and neck being the only parts of him that were visible.

 

What in god's name had happened to him tonight? First the shameful peeping, and then the way he'd reacted to Hikaru's advances. It was no wonder the other boy kept coming at him. His reactions were confusing, to say the least. If he was this confused, how could his friend understand what he meant, how he felt?

 

How did he feel? Why did he keep having such strange feelings sweep through his body at those moments? When Hikaru had been pressing him into the floor, teeth grazing his neck, he felt as if he'd barely been able to hang onto his protests. As if he was only able to utter them from sheer force of habit.

 

When Isumi had said something about being thrown over the Go-ban, his mind had immediately jumped to sex - and had rejected the idea violently. He'd been terribly startled by the idea. But he didn't find Hikaru disgusting, or dislike any of the closeness he'd experienced with the other boy.

 

He examined the moment when Hikaru had pressed close to him earlier and he had fallen over. Along with the fear was a thrill of something…it was exhilarating, frightening and disorienting, all at the same time. It made him feel as if he were falling, and every time Hikaru drew close to him, he had a peculiar fluttering or dropping feeling in his stomach.

 

Akira closed his eyes, trying to think of someone else that he found appealing. Anyone else he'd been attracted to. Twelve-year old Hikaru, beaming so adorably at him when they'd first met…no! He kept searching. Hikaru's sly teasing outside of the internet café, daring him to take the bait…not that, either. Those were both Hikaru.

 

After endless minutes passed with only memories of Hikaru surfacing, Akira gave up. It was very sad that the only person he could ever recall being attracted to was his rival. He had apparently always been drawn to his friend, even before these other developments.

What would have happened if the bleach-banged boy had never kissed him at the club? Would something else have happened? Would he have done something? All he knew was that the first kiss had opened a Pandora's box inside of him. There was no going back. He knew now what Hikaru tasted like, what the other boy felt like inside of his mouth, and though it frightened him, he couldn't say that he disliked it.

 

He knew the scent of Hikaru, how their bodies fit together, his voice, his mannerisms and ways of speaking…what he didn't know with the other boy was true intimacy. He didn't know what excited his rival, what his naked body looked like (the earlier glimpse wasn't exactly complete), what sorts of noises he would make in the course of said intimacy, and…what it would feel like to have sex with Hikaru.

 

Akira turned his flaming face into the pillow, unable to believe that he was even thinking or wondering about such things. It felt as though some floodgate had been cracked open and was struggling to gape wide. That which was escaping it seemed to be filling his heart. He refused to allow it to open any wider.

 

He had hurt Hikaru. The fact that the other boy had already been settled at Isumi's apartment when Akira had called argued for a deep hurt. Though Hikaru had smiled and said that everything was fine…

 

You liar. You smile at me even when you're only moments away from breaking down. Why?

 

Akira slowly reached out towards Hikaru, meaning to lightly touch or stroke the other boy's hair, but stopped just before doing so, hand hovering. Just as slowly, he withdrew. What if his friend woke up and caught him?

 

He turned over so that his back was to his rival and sighed deeply. What was so great about sleep-overs? This was painful.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Waya glanced at his alarm clock and scowled. He'd slept in late again. But then, he hadn't been able to sleep very well.

 

His conversation with Isumi last night had been less than satisfactory. Something about the way the other boy was acting was disturbing him. His best friend wasn't at all his usual self. He almost felt as though he were getting the cold shoulder from Isu. Isumi.

 

Dammit! Even if it was only in his head, he couldn't allow himself to slip into using that horrible diminutive, and definitely not for it to become a habit. How nauseating. The only times he'd ever called Isumi that were the times he'd been unable to get the other boy's full name past his lips—

 

Waya savagely crushed that train of thought and drove a fist into the other pillow several times, cursing angrily. “I hate this fucking shit!” he exploded, biting his lip hard as he fell face-first back into his pillow.

 

He was still slightly sore from the other night. He loathed the tangible reminders of the sex with Isumi. Turning over, he lightly trailed his fingers down his stomach. It didn't feel the same as when the other boy did that to him. He wanted that touch.

 

Waya clenched the hand that lay on his stomach into a fist. He missed Isumi, but he couldn't see him because Hikaru and Touya were there. If they would only leave, he had half a mind to lie in wait for Isumi again…so that he could sink further into this depravity. Perhaps it was a good thing that they were there, but it also irritated him. He should have access to Isumi whenever he wanted it. Whenever he wanted him. However he wanted him.

 

“Isumi…” he whispered, running his hands over his lower stomach and hips.

 

It wasn't the same.

 

He reached for his cell phone to call the other boy. Put it back down. Picked it up again. “God,” he whispered. He didn't want to be controlled by these evil feelings.

 

Waya slowly opened the phone and manually dialed Isumi's number. He listened to it ring, trying to quiet his breathing.

 

“Hello, Waya,” Isumi murmured in greeting.

 

“Hi. Did you just wake up?”

 

“No, those two were up earlier, and they can't seem to stay quiet, so I got up, too. They're pretty wound up.”

 

“When are they leaving? I mean, what if I wanted to hang out with you?”

 

Isumi gave a short laugh. “I don't know when they're leaving, but they're not bothering me. Do you want to hang out with me?”

 

“Well, yeah. We're buddies. We should go out to the movies or something. I thought there was one that I wanted to see.”

 

There was a long pause from the other end. He almost thought he'd lost the connection somehow, but then Isumi spoke.

 

“We could do that. They can be left here for a little while. I have to hope that I won't find them in a sorry state when I return. I don't know whether to separate them or to lock them in a room together and encourage them.”

 

“Are they that into each other?” he asked coolly.

 

“What's so bad about that?” Isumi countered, voice soft.

 

Waya squeezed his eyes shut. That tender voice in his ear always seemed to undo him. He wanted to say, `You're right, what's so bad about that? I'm being stupid.' But then he regained control of himself.

 

He took a deep breath. “It's up to them if they want to go down that road, but you shouldn't encourage it. You'll only confuse them about what's right.”

 

“Waya…” Isumi replied darkly. “Are you certain that you want to go to the movies with me? You don't sound as though you're in a sociable mood, and I'm not in the mood for that.”

 

He bit back his angry remark. He wanted to see Isumi badly. It seemed like it'd been a hundred years since they'd last seen each other. “Yeah. Yeah, I'll be okay.”

 

Now he just had to pick some random movie that they could watch and act as if he'd truly been wanting to see it. His main objective was to see Isumi, and he wasn't sure he'd be fine with seeing him and Hikaru and Touya. He could always amuse himself by tormenting them, but that would upset Isumi, and that was the last thing that he wanted. Angry Isumi was worse than anything, and to be avoided at all costs.

 

Waya rubbed the back of his neck, running his fingers up under the fringe of his hair where his stupid tattoo was hidden. Thank god no one would ever see it. What had possessed him to pick a celtic star for his tattoo that night? It had seemed a good idea at the time.

 

But then, so had sex with Isumi - and this was how things had turned out.

 

He got up with a sigh, tripped over the sheets and proceeded to drag himself to the bathroom for a shower.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Isumi sat staring at the movie screen in the nearly empty theater, wondering what had possessed Waya. Since when had the amber-eyed boy ever been interested in medieval movies and knights? Just as he was about to turn his head to ask, he saw his friend lean towards him in his peripheral vision and felt lips against his ear.

 

“Are you enjoying the movie, Isumi?” Waya whispered into his ear.

 

Isumi shuddered, gripping the chair rests. “It's not…really my thing,” he responded with slight difficulty.

 

“Maybe this is,” Waya murmured, reaching up to turn Isumi's head towards him.

 

His eyes went wide as he found the other boy's tongue slipping past his lips. He truly shouldn't be surprised anymore, but he found that each time Waya did something like this, it only surprised him more.

 

Isumi tried to pull back, but Waya got up out of his chair and crawled onto Isumi's, straddling his hips.

 

Now he was truly determined to pull back. He succeeded after a moment, mostly because Waya let him. “What are you doing?” he hissed, shocked beyond his ability to express.

 

“I miss you,” Waya whispered, kissing him deeply again.

 

Isumi was pressed back into his chair, unable to gain any leverage out of their position. There wasn't really anywhere for him to go, and turning his head would do him no good, even if he could manage it.

 

The other pro's body pressed against his with controlled urgency, not completely abandoning control. Yet. The stimulation forced a soft moan out of him, though it was muffled in his lover's mouth.

 

He was painfully aware of the small things, like the scent of Waya and the other boy's fingers lightly stroking the sensitive skin behind his jaw. They kept wandering down the sides of his neck, then returning to their original position.

 

`Why are you doing this?' he thought fiercely at the other boy. His body was responding almost violently to Waya's touch, and he ached. He wanted so badly to lose himself inside of his friend again. `Once more' never seemed to be enough.

 

Waya drew back for a moment, lightly brushing his lips over Isumi's. “Do you want to come to my place and hang out…for a little while?”

 

He gazed up into those glittering eyes, knowing exactly what would happen if he did. Hoping it would happen again. “Yes,” he heard himself whisper.

 

Would he ever be able to say no to Waya's invitation?