PoT: Mizuki and Yuuta's Wedding 3 of 4
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Humor, Parody, Romance
Pairings: Yuuta/Mizuki, many other minor, one-sided, or implied pairings
Summary: It's the event of the century and everyone's invited... and I do mean everyone. (<- was true at the time. Really everyone up to Johsei.... Rokkaku name-dropping at the end).
Mizuki and Yuuta's Wedding
Part 3: Melee
"The rules are simple. I can do whatever I want with you, but you have to keep your grabby little hands to yourself. Nothing less than a 5000-yen note. I'm not cheap," Atobe laid out, the very image of professionalism. "You break my rules, he breaks your bones. Isn't that right, Kabaji?"
"Usu," his bodyguard confirmed.
This didn't deter the guests from cheering and hooting, breaking out the big bills and yelling, "Take it off, buchou!" Atobe's ability to work the crowd transferred from the courts to his new career nicely.
Shishido frowned as Choutaroh joined in by whistling. He knew it meant nothing - the younger man was being a good sport and even if he did find stripper!Atobe attractive (like anyone with eyes would), it didn't necessarily translate into interest. Still, Shishido couldn't help feeling a teeny tiny bit... annoyed. Yes, annoyed. It wasn't like he was jealous or anything, he tried to convince himself.
"Atobe-san's the same as always, isn't he?"
"Yeah. What a cocky bastard," Shishido scoffed.
Choutaroh blinked in surprise, wondering if he had missed something. A fight between his two upperclassmen perhaps. He shrugged it off as none of his business and tactfully switched subjects. "I wonder when Mizuki-san and Fuji-san are coming."
He wasn't the only one wondering where the two were. At the other side of the room, Akazawa checked his watch impatiently. "It's been an hour already. What's keeping them?"
"You know how Mizuki-san is," Kaneda spoke up nervously. When the captain got cranky, he usually took it out on the youngest and meekest of the group... namely, Kaneda. And while Kaneda wasn't into pain so that he wanted to hasten the verbal abuse, he knew from experience that Akazawa would get even more mean if someone didn't say anything to calm him down, pronto.
"He's being fashionably late, as usual," Kaneda hazarded a guess, and knew he had hit on the perfect explanation.
It certainly wouldn't be the first time they had to wait around for Mizuki's convenience - nor would it be their last. Even in his days as a manager, Mizuki would saunter in late to meetings (when he had bothered showing up at all) and launch into a description of new training menus without so much as an apology or excuse for his tardiness. And everyone had accepted it as Mizuki being Mizuki, while they gave Yanagisawa hell when he tried pulling the same stunt. Leniency was a luxury reserved only for the pretty.
Even now, Akazawa stopped scowling as he mulled over Kaneda's theory. "That sounds like him," he admitted, bad mood melting away. He pictured Mizuki in a silk rose-print robe, fine brows knit beneath the curly locks as he picked out then discarded outfit after outfit, completely oblivious to the passing time. So adorable!
Kaneda let out a long-suffering sigh. His captain was so transparent when it came to Mizuki, although it was just as obvious that Mizuki didn't feel the same and simply liked toying with the smitten man's emotions. But then, Kaneda grudgingly admitted to himself, they did share a strange co-dependent friendship that went beyond Akazawa's uke-worship and Mizuki's self-absorption.
Speaking of self-absorbed... Atobe had finally gotten enough fuel for his ego, so he snapped his fingers. Instant silence. "So where's the lucky couple?"
"Uh..." People looked around, finally catching on to the fact that the guests of honor were missing.
"Isn't that them?" Shinjo indicated Oshitari and Gakuto. The pair was, as always, standing much closer than people of non-intimate relationship normally would, bodies turned toward each other even though their focus was now on the Johsei Shounan player. Gakuto's flaming haircut and clothes and Oshitari's liberally applied kohl eyeliner also advertised their general gayness.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Kouhei added his assent and everyone turned to Youhei to see what he had to say.
The maroon-haired twin stopped mid-chew, cheeks ballooned up like a chipmunk. Oh great, he thought. Stupid brother had to talk when I'm unprepared. "Mmrgh." He made little 'I'll pass' hand gestures, but they continued staring at him, waiting.
His discomfort quickly mutated into indignation. Why was it that he and Kouhei had to say things in unison or as a tag team, anyway? It wasn't fair that the two were one inseparable entity in people's minds, simply because they came from the same egg and referred to themselves as a unit. Yes, he had to make a stand here and now or else he'd always be known as the first half of Youhei-and-Kouhei.
He fidgeted under the expectant gazes, swallowed quickly, and mumbled, "We saw Kikumaru-san running up to them earlier." He sulked, berating himself for being so weak-willed.
"Well that explains why everyone was congratulating me," Oshitari reflected, not at all displeased. "I thought it was about my new album."
"They thought we were the ones getting married?" Gakuto tilted his chin to look up at the taller man, as if he was re-evaluating their relationship in light of the news. He dissolved into hysterical laughter. "How funny, Yuushi! They thought we were a couple! A couple! Isn't that wild?"
Oshitari facefaulted as Gakuto elbowed him, laughing as if he had heard the funniest joke ever. "Yes, I wonder how they got that idea," he drawled moodily. He gave Shinjo a hard look, not liking the way the other blue-haired man was eyeing his cuter half, and laid a possessive hand on an oblivious Gakuto's shoulder. His whole stance screamed 'Mine. Back away.'
Of course, he was just being paranoid. Shinjo, being a tennis-playing robot, had no interest in anyone of either sex, unless you counted his abnormal devotion to his coach and master.
"So if that's not them, where are they?" Kouhei brought the conversation back on track, and his brother gave him a death glare as he submitted his own witty, "Yeah."
Oishi slapped himself on the forehead as he realized what had most likely happened. "Don't tell me Eiji forgot to tell them!"
Crickets chirped.
"Saa..." Fuji smiled. "I'll give them a call," he volunteered, at the same time Akazawa did. Perfectly in sync, the two whipped out their mobile and punched in their speed dials before anyone else could so much as blink - Fuji calling his brother's phone while Akazawa called Mizuki's.
They were quickly engrossed in their respective conversations, Akazawa showing considerably more success. Progress was slow as the younger Fuji strongly resisted the idea of a bachelor party in his honor.
But before the guests could get too bored waiting around, Eiji ran back into the room, a tennis racket in each hand. He brandished the gray one with the 'K' inscribed in Gakuto's direction and declared, "Mukahi, I challenge you to a duel."
"Uh... honey... this isn't the appropriate-----"
"Isn't this perfect," Gakuto cut Oishi off, quickly adopting a menacing expression. "I accept your challenge, Kikumaru. Your half-hearted acrobatics is no match for my step aerobics!"
"Uh... Eiji," Oishi tried again, tugging at his lover's arm. The last thing he wanted was an all-out rivalry, with the guests divided along hostile school lines. Already, Hyotei was rooting for Gakuto while the rest of Seigaku allied themselves with Eiji.
"Don't worry nya," Eiji whispered to him, totally misinterpreting his concern. "I can take him. Then he'll have to shut up."
Oishi groaned. It sounded more like they were going to engage in a fist-fight rather than a civilized tennis match. And the way they were now goading each other, he wouldn't be surprised if they actually did pull out the punches, with half the guests jumping in. Oh the injuries and damages that were sure to result.
"Naa... the nearest tennis court is thirty minutes away," Kawamura interrupted them timidly. "You can't make it back before Mizuki and Yuuta arrives."
"We can if we follow Tezuka-senpai's squad car!" Momoshiro called out half-jokingly.
"Momoshiro. Do you want to run another 20 laps?"
"No, sir," Momoshiro replied meekly, then whispered loudly to Ryoma, "Geez! He's such a stickler for the rules. I bet he'd ticket his own mother for jaywalking." He feigned innocence as Tezuka bore holes into the back of his head.
Fuji smiled serenely as he pocketed his phone. "Why don't you settle your grudge some other way?" he suggested sensibly. He had finally managed to cajole his brother in coming, and didn't want to miss either Yuuta's arrival or Eiji's match.
"Other way? How, Fuji? Tell us, tell us." Eiji begged, curious. His friend always had some pretty weird ideas, but they sometimes turned out to be fun.
"Hm." Fuji considered the materials at hand. "Oishi, do you have a roll of ace bandage, and some duct tape?"
"I think so, yeah."
They watched uncomprehendingly as Fuji took the rackets from Eiji and wound the retrieved bandage around the handles to hold them together. He then secured it with duct tape to make it sturdier and looked satisfied with his handiwork, which resembled a long pole.
"The game is limbo."
"LIMBO?!"
"Yes. Whoever can go the lowest, wins," Fuji said simply.
Kaidoh was about to point out that limbo had nothing to do with tennis, but then realized it made perfect sense. Gakuto and Eiji were renowned for their balance and flexibility, the two skills required for Fuji's game of choice, and it had the added bonus of being something that could be played without leaving the house.
Gakuto and Eiji exchanged wary glances. "I'm fine with it," the former spoke first, shedding his jacket and tie.
"Well, I'm doubly fine with it." Eiji made a face, sticking out his tongue and pulling down on his eye.
Oishi pulled his lover aside. "Eiji, are you sure it's okay?" he asked worriedly. "You haven't done any acrobatics since we had Kenji... if you suddenly strain yourself, you might pull a muscle."
"Daijoubu, daijoubu," Eiji said dismissively. Apparently, a realistic assessment of his current body condition couldn't put a damper on his competitive spirit. "I can't lose to this guy. Besides," he winked, rotating his shoulder to loosen up, "you can't say some of our more creative sex didn't involve me in stretching in unbelievable ways."
Oishi quieted and blushed.
"Hm..." Sengoku rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "An impromptu contest between Seigaku's Kikumaru and Hyotei's Mukahi... this should be good." He smiled, then slapped Minami on the back. "Yosh! It's decided! Minami-kun will play for Yamabuki!"
"Wh-what?"
"And the game will be strip limbo. If you touch the pole, you lose one piece of clothing. If you fall, two. The game goes on until everyone but the prince of bendyness is naked," Atobe revised the guidelines off-handedly and there were appreciative murmurs at the thought.
"Good thinking, buchou," Oshitari purred. He hoped the Seigaku red-head would be good enough to get Gakuto shirtless, although he doubted it'd get farther than that. He had great faith in Gakuto's abilities.
"Isn't it? I hope Johsei sends out that yummy captain of theirs." Atobe eyed his own target. "I wouldn't mind giving him a private showing later on."
Unfortunately, the little guy sprang forward, causing Yanagisawa to accuse them of cheating. "That's unfair da ne. He can walk under what most people would have trouble with da ne!"
The two teams squabbled over what was and was not allowed as Minami, protesting mutiny, was forcibly dragged out by his teammates. Sengoku cupped his hands to his mouth. "Yo! Fudosan! Send out your representative!"
"It's Fudomine!" Mori yelled back, then returned to the huddle.
"What do you think? It's our team's pride on the line." Tachibana regarded the matter with utmost seriousness. While it was totally beneath him to participate in such an undignified game for ridiculous stakes - it'd be as out-of-character as Tezuka volunteering to play - he was sure there was someone else willing to do the dirty work for the good of the team. And sure enough...
"Please leave this to me, Tachibana-niisan," good ol' dependable Kamio entreated. "I think I can win."
Breathing quiet sighs of relief, the others gave their unanimous approval and pumped their fists in the air, breaking with a hearty "Go Fudomine!"
And so the battle between the schools was underway.
-----
It had been back when Yuuta was sixteen, still naive and uncorrupted despite the rather immoral company he kept. The guys on the team had somehow persuaded him to accompany them to a gay strip club to celebrate Mizuki's eighteenth birthday, so armed with a fake ID and a whole lot of trepidation, Yuuta was introduced to a dimly lit room where well-built, oiled-up men danced around poles and rubbed up against customers for money.
It was okay at first. While he was slightly uncomfortable, simultaneously feeling the need to gawk at everything and avert his eyes so as not to draw attention to himself, it wasn't nearly as bad as he had feared it'd be.
Mizuki, for his part, seemed to be enjoying himself. Each friend flagged over a different stripper with a wad of bills, and paid for the newly legal Mizuki to be pleasured in various ways. His face was flushed with booze and happiness as he basked in the attention, totally feeling the love.
Then, it was Yuuta's turn to gift his senpai. He picked the closest stripper, feeling a bit foolish as he signaled the worker over. By some weird coincidence, the man bore an uncanny resemblance to his brother, with the same pleasantly smiling face and straight brown hair that shagged a bit longer than usual for guys. This flustered Yuuta enough so that he dropped the bill, and as he bent to pick it up, his eye was right on level with the guy's bulging crotch.
Still bent over, Yuuta quickly stuffed the money down the guy's underwear, only he was too hasty in his action. His fingers got caught in the tight elastic and he panicked as he felt more than paper in there.
He let out an unmanly scream and fell backward onto his ass, jerking his hand back reflexively. The thin straps of the leopard-print thong snapped with it, and money and the stripper's generous-sized goods flew in his face.
"My virgin eyes!" Yuuta clapped his hands over said virgin eyes, permanently scarred by the experience.
"Fucking ass burn!" the stripper yelped as he rubbed at his chafed, stinging buttcrack, even as the group roared in drunken amusement and shoved Yuuta back into the poor man's naked lap.
Mizuki & Co. were promptly thrown out of the establishment by the ticked-off bouncers, never welcome there again. The boys didn't care though; they were too busy laughing at Yuuta's expense, those insensitive clods. It was years before they stopped bringing it up, and Yuuta vowed never to put himself in that kind of situation again.
So why wasn't his brother letting him off?
"Really, aniki, I'm about to die." Yuuta coughed belatedly, for effect. "It's really contagious, too."
"You're so cute when you try to lie," Fuji responded cheerfully, "because you're so bad at it."
Yuuta growled in frustration. His brother had already brushed aside the more credible too tired, dislike crowds, have a stomachache, and have last minute wedding prep excuses. "It's against my religion," he tried, a touch of desperation creeping into his tone.
"Isn't your entire relationship with someone of the same sex against your religion?"
Breaking out into cold sweat, Yuuta glanced around the bedroom for some sort of escape. Mizuki was prattling on happily to Akazawa on his purple cell - no help there. Yuuta moved to the bed and started banging the headboard against the wall, holding his phone up so that the sound would be picked up on the other end.
"Oh would you listen to that," he got back on the line. "I'm too busy screwing Hajime at the moment... sorry, aniki. This is going to take all night."
It was a last-ditch effort to stun his brother into hanging up. Of course, there was a real possibility that it'd backfire, and Fuji would quip back with some totally inappropriate, embarrassing comment.
There was a muffled question as Fuji consulted someone in the room. "It'd be rather difficult to 'screw Hajime' over there when he's coming here. I can come by if you want some help with that though," Fuji offered.
Yuuta buried his head into his pillow, scream choked off as he attempted self-suffocation.
"So, when do you think you'll be over?"
-----
Yuuta stopped halfway up the driveway, doubling over and tucking his head between his knees. "I can't do this," he hyperventilated. "Hajime, go call an ambulance for me."
Mizuki rolled his eyes. And people called him melodramatic. "Yuuta-kun, everyone's already forgotten that strip club incident by now."
"You didn't," Yuuta peered up with accusing gray eyes. "You mentioned it, just now! How did you know what I was spazzing about if you weren't thinking of it, too?"
"Okay, maybe it's a little too amusing to forget," Mizuki conceded with a chuckle. He smiled patronizingly and petted Yuuta gently. "It was just so precious, you getting all traumatized over the man's genitals."
Yuuta looked at him crossly. "If this is supposed to make me feel better, it's not."
"My point is... no one even knows about it, except for buchou, Yanagisawa-kun, and Kisarazu-kun."
"That's three people too many."
"But you were really cute!" Mizuki insisted, as if that made it all better. He tapped Yuuta lightly on the nose. "It was then that I saw how much you needed to be taught, in areas outside of tennis."
Yuuta pouted. "Is that all I am? A charity case?"
"Of course not. You're..." Mizuki searched for an appropriate metaphor. "...a jigsaw in the puzzle that makes up me. I'm incomplete without you."
It was the type of quasi-complimentary, mostly self-centered sort of thing that might be deprecating if one over-analyzed it in depth. But Yuuta found it incredibly sweet, and temporarily forgot about his stripper-phobia as they kissed.
They were in the middle of tonsil-hockey on the lawn when Taichi spotted them. He hoisted himself up on the railings of the veranda for a better look, squinting into the dark to make out the figures. "Akutsu-senpai! Look desu!" He pointed. "Isn't that Mizuki-san and Fuji Yuuta-san?"
His companion flicked his eyes over, before tossing his cigarette and grinding it out with the toe of his boot.
"Should I call to them, should I? Akutsu-senpai! What are you doing?" Taichi ran around as the other man picked up the garden hose, turned on the faucet full blast, and thoroughly drenched the unsuspecting two.
The commotion they made drew all the guests in the house to the windows.
"It's Mizuki and Yuuta da ne!"
"Mizuki!!"
"Yuuta!"
"Well, it's about time!"
Akutsu swept a hand across his chest and did a mock bow. "Welcome, revered guests."
Yuuta sighed as he squeezed water out of his sodden shirt. Guess there was no escaping his fate.
"Just put some money down the stripper's pants right away," Mizuki advised, as they squished their way up to the house. "Then you'll get over your... gun-shyness... and see that there's nothing to be afraid of."
"Right," Yuuta muttered. "Good plan."
Oishi met them at the door with large, fluffy towels and ushered them into the bathroom before they could drip all over the place. The T-shirts and jeans he lent them weren't what Mizuki would have chosen to wear, but at least they were dry.
Now changed, they walked into the main room. Yuuta was a little surprised at the number that had shown up and a tad curious at why Atsushi-senpai, Kikumaru-san, Kamio, the guy from Yamabuki whose name he couldn't remember, and the little red-head from Hyotei were all cramped onto the small sofa, naked. The first four held cushions over their laps but the latter only had a clear bowl, the contents of which were rapidly disappearing.
"Yuushi! Go eat the chips from over there," Gakuto scolded, re-distributing the chips so that it completely covered the bottom.
"But these taste better," Oshitari replied straight-faced, and reached in to continue his treasure hunt.
"Rhythm failed," Kamio said glumly, leaning forward with his chin propped in his hands.
"Mou, I can't believe we lost," Eiji moaned, flinging himself back and pedaling his legs in frustration. "Who knew anyone could bend that far back! It's unnatural!"
"Johsei Shounan's Kajimoto Takahisa... a formidable opponent," Inui murmured, pushing up his glasses. "I need more data on him."
Yuuta's eyes roamed the rest of the room and fell on the uniformed man in the corner. Taking a deep breath, he marched purposefully over, grabbed a slightly damp 1000-yen note from his back pocket, and stuffed it down Tezuka's pants without incident. Success!
He was busy congratulating himself on not screwing up when he became aware of the deathly silence.
"Yuuta," Fuji spoke first.
"What is it?"
"That badge - it's real."
"Huh?" Yuuta looked in confusion from his brother's light-hearted smile to Tezuka's cold glare.
"Ore-sama da." Atobe drew attention to himself. He wasn't role-playing as a cop or fireman, but his profession was amply clear from his attire. "I'm the stripper."
Complete shock.
"If you're- and that's- that means- I thought that-" Yuuta babbled incoherently.
"FUJI." Tezuka did an admirable job of controlling himself, although the tips of his ears were bright pink. "Fifty laps around the block. Now," he barked.
"Yes, sir!" Yuuta broke into a flat-out run while Mizuki clucked with sympathy.
"Well, let's get started already! Kabaji, the music."
And Atobe proceeded to get down and dirty with the remaining to-be-wed, while poor Yuuta, being too honest for his own good, ran all fifty laps in the dark. But since it meant he missed a great majority of the dreaded bachelor party, he didn't mind.
Everyone was clothed again by the time Yuuta returned, and the people nearest and dearest to Mizuki's heart were reminiscing about his numerous sexual exploits in his younger, wilder days. Mizuki reclined back on the sofa with a glass of wine while the others surrounded him in a semi-circle, the group often stopping their storytelling to break into raucous laughter. Judging from the rosiness of his cheeks, Yuuta guessed Mizuki had consumed quite a bit of alcohol already.
"And don't forget that time with Kyou after lights out," Atsushi chimed in as Yanagisawa paused for breath, adding another name to the long list of schoolmates that had come before. "I thought for sure the priests would catch you guys."
"Ah yes," Mizuki sat up slightly, eyes misting over at the memory. "Although that doesn't match up to confessional booth sex with Hatori. How I miss those single days," he sighed regretfully.
"A-HEM."
"But still, there comes a time when every man must settle down with the one he loves," Mizuki navigated smoothly, and kissed Yuuta on the cheek as the younger man slid in next to him. Everyone awwwed.
"Well, it's time for speeches!" Eiji chirped, jumping on top of a chair and clapping his hands. "The best man Akazawa will make a toast for groom number one!"
"I've known Mizuki for years now, and he's been a wonderful friend," Akazawa started with utmost sincerity. "He's everything I could have ever asked for - loyal, caring, smart, hard-working, selfless, generous, modest..."
"Where's he getting this from?" Atsushi whispered.
"Isn't it obvious? He's making it up da ne."
The guests were forced to sit through a 30-minute recitation of Mizuki's good points, real or imagined, while Mizuki listened with rapt attention, tears streaming down his face.
"How true, how true," he sniffed, delicately dabbing at his eyes with a tissue.
"...and oh Mizuki, why don't you marry me? I'm so much better than Yuuta in every way," Akazawa wrapped up his speech. "Cheers." He knocked back his glass of champagne before he was led off by Oishi and Kaneda, and Eiji once again took the stage.
"Now, we'll hear from best man number two! Fuji!"
"Keep it short!" someone yelled.
"Hm... what can I say about my cute little brother?"
"Oh God," Yuuta groaned, expecting the worst.
"I think my feelings about him are obvious." Fuji slit his eyes open, blue irises homing in on Mizuki. "I won't forgive anyone who dares hurt him."
Mizuki gulped and scooted a bit closer to Yuuta.
"And now I'd like to hand over the rest of my speech to Akutagawa-san."
Everyone looked over at the sleeping Jiroh, wondering what ace Fuji had up his sleeve and whether it was okay to let him go through with his devious scheme. Atobe shrugged, pausing in the counting of his money. "Go ahead, Kabaji. Wake him," he commanded.
"Usu."
Jiroh was rudely wakened in the usual lift-and-dangle method. "Ah- what? Is it over already?" He tousled his hair and suppressed a yawn.
"Jiroh, we need you to give a speech for them," Atobe waved vaguely over at where Mizuki and Yuuta were sitting. "For some reason."
"Ah!" Jiroh pointed excitedly. "I know him!"
"Uh, Jiroh, I think you mean him." Oshitari rotated him three degrees to the right, so that he was now pointing at Yuuta. "You beat him in 15 minutes during the consolation match, remember?"
"No, no! Him!" Jiroh bounded up to Mizuki and examined him up close. "I'm sure of it. We made out after the game!"
Oh crap. Mizuki blanched. He had completely forgotten about that.
"What? What are you talking about?" Yuuta asked in bewilderment. "Why would you guys make out?"
"Are you sure you didn't dream it, Jiroh?" Shishido sounded skeptical.
"Well, at first I thought I was, cause he looked like an angel, y'know. He had the sunlight hitting right behind him like a halo and everything. It was seriously cool!" Jiroh enthused, getting into his story. "But then he grabbed me by my shirt and shouted obscenities at me so I thought maybe not. Anyway, one thing led to another and we ended up behind the drinking fountain, kissing."
"That's just ridi--" Yuuta caught the guilty shifting of his lover's eyes. "Hajime?" His tone was incredulous. "Is this true?"
"Well, I was just getting back at him for you, Yuuta," Mizuki laughed fakely. "It wasn't like it meant anything."
"Oh." Jiroh's face fell in disappointment. "Does that mean we can't do it again?"
"Maybe you should go back to sleep," Choutaroh advised. Yuuta seemed just about ready to kill someone, and Jiroh was unwittingly making himself pretty high on the list of potential victims.
"Nah, I gotta get to work." Jiroh yawned again. "I've got the graveyard shift... at the graveyard."
"Don't fall asleep in the holes you dig." Gakuto rolled his eyes. "They might think you're a corpse and bury you."
"I think they learned not to do that after the first time," Jiroh called over his shoulder, unperturbed, and then he was gone.
But the trouble was just beginning.
"I can't believe you kissed him!" Yuuta exploded, jumping to his feet and balling his hands into fists. "How is that getting back at him? How? No, I'd really like to know."
"I figured, you know... if I couldn't bring them to their knees in tennis, I can do it in other ways... Hey, I was just a stupid kid then," Mizuki defended himself, rising as well. "What do you expect?"
"Even if that made any sort of sense at all, which it doesn't, shouldn't you have been getting revenge on Atobe-san? He's the one who beat you!"
Atobe cleared his throat. "Oh, he got me back alright," he interjected. "In the locker room right before the buses left..." He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't resist leering and blowing a kiss in Mizuki's direction. "But as I recall, I wasn't the one down on my knees."
"Oh. My. God." Yuuta turned in a circle, looking at their 'friends' with cynical new eyes. "Is there anyone in this room you haven't slept with?"
Fuji raised his hand. "Me," he announced happily. "I've never had sex with him." Of course, by making this statement, the implication was that he was the only exception.
Mizuki shot Atobe and Fuji glares that could have melted steel before he turned to placate his agitated lover. "Why does it even matter? It's all in the past... It wasn't like we were together then," he tried to reason.
Yuuta wrenched away from Mizuki's touch, hurt and disgust warring for dominance. "Well maybe you like it that way! Maybe you'd be happier being free to screw everyone you run across!"
He instantly regretted his words. Mizuki stumbled back as if slapped, face draining of all color. His voice was very quiet when he finally spoke. "I'm going home. I'm sure you can find somewhere else to spend the night."
The gallery was frozen with shock, afraid to even breathe as Mizuki stormed off without another word. They looked uncomfortably on as Yuuta clenched and unclenched his fists, caught in a state of indecision. A part of Yuuta wanted to move, to run after Mizuki and apologize but the part of him that was stubborn and proud prevented him from doing so.
I mean, c'mon, Mizuki sucked face with Jiroh! The same Jiroh that had schooled him in 15 minutes while half-asleep... Yuuta felt absolutely humiliated. The only worse betrayal would have been to find out that Mizuki had also had a twisted threesome with his brother and Echizen where the three of them had sex on Yuuta's bed and then laughed about how easy it was to beat 'Fuji's little brother' at tennis.
Mizuki had expected Yuuta to brush off all of his past affairs as if they didn't matter. And perhaps they really didn't, but the casual disregard Mizuki showed for sex stung. It was as if anyone would do, and Yuuta was nothing but another notch on the bedpost, the final in a long string of conquests.
There was the angry squeal of tires as a car peeled out of the driveway. "Aniki, I'll be outside when you're ready to go," Yuuta said tonelessly.
As soon as he left, the comments started up, fast and furious. "Man, that was harsh."
"I didn't see that coming."
"Do you think the wedding's off?"
"Hey!" Eiji waved his arms for attention. "Do we have a couples therapist here by any chance?"
"Aren't they mostly female?"
No one owned up to being one, so Sakurai stood up. "I run a dog obedience school," he offered, then ducked the cups and snacks that sailed in his direction.
"I'll go talk to him," Fuji excused himself.
"This is exactly why exclusivity is a terrible idea," Momoshiro doled out his expert opinion. "People should be free to bang whoever they want, instead of being chained to the same person, day-in, day-out."
"No, it's because he slept with everyone that Fuji-senpai's little brother got mad," Ryoma corrected.
"Echizen! Don't think you're wiser than me about sex, just because you've turned out to be a closet pervert. Listen to your senpai. I know these things. Every day at work, I have to listen to these lonely women... bored housewives who say the fire's sizzled out from their marriages, and wish they were still single."
"Eh? I thought you weren't a couples therapist."
"I'm not, you dimwit." Momoshiro whacked Ryoma lightly upside the head. "I'm a radio talk show host. It's just that these are the type of people sitting at home, listening. Oh yeah." He snapped his fingers and turned to Kamio. "You'll never guess who called in the other day... Ann-chan! Remember her?" he went on, oblivious to the mad twitching of the red-head's eyebrows.
"Man, was she a tiger in the sack. Mrowr."
"Teme!" Kamio launched himself at Momoshiro, tackling him to the ground. "How dare you talk about my wife like that!"
"EH?! You actually married her?!"
Anything else he was about to say was cut off when Kamio started to strangle him.
"Ah... we should stop them." Kawamura wrung his hands as he looked to Akutsu, who immediately slammed him up against the wall.
"Don't tell me what to do," Akutsu threatened.
"Kawamura-senpai, here." Ryoma slipped him a racket, which predictably sent Kawamura into burning mode.
"YOU! AKUTSU!" He swung the racket wildly. "WHAT WOULD YUUKI-CHAN THINK, TO SEE YOU PICKING FIGHTS ALL THE TIME?"
Akutsu drew back his fist and decked him, not because he was particularly irritated by Kawamura's casual address of his mother, nor at being 'ordered around' but because he was itching for a fight. It had been too long since he had heard and felt the satisfying crack of knuckles hitting flesh. Too bad Taichi never let him beat up on their co-workers.
"Ororo..." Kawamura slumped to the floor, spirals for eyes.
Oishi would have ran to help his friend but his knees suddenly gave out and he also fell, twitching. About a dozen others joined him on the floor, gagging and dropping their paper cups to clutch at their throats.
"Ahh! What's going on?"
"Did someone spike the punch?"
Arai backed away, horrified as the liquid changed color and started to bubble up the sides of the bowl in delayed chemical reaction.
"Don't tell me..."
"It's my Special Bachelor Party Tropical Punch Inui Juice. Well?" Glasses glinted as Inui grinned evilly. "How is it?"
"I think I'm going to puke," Kaidoh gasped, face completely blue. He grunted as someone used him as a stepping stone, leaving a shoe imprint on his back.
"You, freshm'n." Hiyoshi Wakashi stumbled his way toward Ryoma, drunk off his ass. "I hav' a score to settle wit' you."
"Do I know you?" Ryoma asked bluntly. There were just too many people he had pissed off as the freshman ace to keep track of.
"You ruined my t'nis career. I was s'posed to be'come cap'n after Atobe-san, take Hyotei to nat'nals. But be'cuz I losht to you, coach wouldn't even lemme be regular."
"Ahh! It's that substitute from the tie-breaker game!" the peanut gallery, aka Horio, Kachiro, and Katsuo, chorused.
The memory clicked. "Oh yeah, the low-class guy."
"Why you--" Hiyoshi lurched at him, intending to unleash a well-deserved can of whupass.
Rikkaidai's Kirihara Akaya saw this and took it upon himself to prevent the imminent altercation. He hadn't been one of those invited. It was chance that he had slept through his subway stop and had been kicked off at the end of the line and chance that he had caught a few familiar faces heading above ground, talking about a party. Since he had crashed the joint and helped himself to the free food and entertainment, it was just right that he repay his hosts.
He picked up the racket not given to Kawamura, unpocketed a tennis ball from his jacket, and served it at the attacking Hiyoshi with flair, all the while patting himself on the back for being awesome like that.
The ball missed its target when Hiyoshi, motor skills being considerably deteriorated, tangled over his own two feet and tripped. It hit Nitobe instead, propelling the Yamabuki player into the snack-laden table. Everything went flying, and a toxic rain of Inui Juice pelted the shouting crowd. The ball then ricocheted off the chandelier and smacked Choutaroh, who stumbled straight into the aquarium, knocking it over.
Water sloshed all over and Oishi's precious tropical fish flopped helplessly on the ground: Tezuka II, Oishi II, Eiji II, Fuji II, Taka II, Inui II, Momo II, Kaidoh II, and Ryoma II all suffered slow, painful deaths. Taichi, completely blinded by his headband, slipped on the water and skidded all the way to the sofa, where he fell over with a heavy "Oof!"
"Tachibana-san!" The Fudomine members - minus Kamio, who was too busy throttling Momoshiro - dove to protect their captain from the tennis ball whizzing his way, and clonked heads.
"Daichi! Saaaaave me!" Ohta's short form was swallowed up as people ran around the crowded room in panic, crashing into each other, tripping over the writing bodies on the floor, and generally adding to the chaos. It was a complete battle scene, food and juice staining the carpets, furniture, and walls, and guests holding out their arms for help like wounded soldiers.
"Ya... yabe..." Kirihara picked his jaw up from the floor and slowly inched his way to the exit, crab-style, where he beat a hasty retreat.
"Everyone, 30 laps, now!"
The ones who could still move sluggishly headed outside, muttering about how this was the worst party they had ever been to.
"Mataku, this sucks. If I had known it'd be like this, I would have stayed at home. Of course, Tachibana-san told me to come and I listen to everything he says. But no one else. Not even Kamio and he's my best friend. I heard him tell Ann-chan that she was his best friend though. Maybe it's time to find a new best friend. I wonder if Echizen has one already. Can rival florists be best friends, I wonder. Ah- if I can get him to give me those pruning shears, it'll mean we aren't really rivals."
People slowed down drastically so they wouldn't have to listen to Shinji's nonstop mumbles. Then they pulled ahead when they reached the Kikumaru-Oishi home, dashing to avoid the rocks and clumps of dirt Akutsu had taken to throwing at passerbys.
Sengoku, who had escaped all the dangers unscathed, wandered back inside, deciding he didn't have to do the laps. He had a policy of listening only to his coach and as luck would have it, Ban-jii (nor Ban-jii Jr, which he had just now decided was his new nickname for Fuji) wasn't here to boss him around.
"So," Atobe was addressing the others. "Anyone up for a captains' orgy?"
Tezuka, Tachibana, and Kajimoto didn't deign to answer, simply reinforcing their 'we're serious, uptight, anal retentive, alpha male semes who absolutely refuse to be bottom for anyone' attitudes. Akazawa just sat on his haunches, looking miserable as he whimpered Mizuki's name.
"Whatever." Atobe draped his coat over him like a blanket. "Wake me when the roads are clear of pedestrians we might run over, Kabaji."
"Usu."
-----
On to Part 4
posted on Fanfiction.net [September 9, 2003]
Genre: Humor, Parody, Romance
Pairings: Yuuta/Mizuki, many other minor, one-sided, or implied pairings
Summary: It's the event of the century and everyone's invited... and I do mean everyone. (<- was true at the time. Really everyone up to Johsei.... Rokkaku name-dropping at the end).
Mizuki and Yuuta's Wedding
Part 3: Melee
"The rules are simple. I can do whatever I want with you, but you have to keep your grabby little hands to yourself. Nothing less than a 5000-yen note. I'm not cheap," Atobe laid out, the very image of professionalism. "You break my rules, he breaks your bones. Isn't that right, Kabaji?"
"Usu," his bodyguard confirmed.
This didn't deter the guests from cheering and hooting, breaking out the big bills and yelling, "Take it off, buchou!" Atobe's ability to work the crowd transferred from the courts to his new career nicely.
Shishido frowned as Choutaroh joined in by whistling. He knew it meant nothing - the younger man was being a good sport and even if he did find stripper!Atobe attractive (like anyone with eyes would), it didn't necessarily translate into interest. Still, Shishido couldn't help feeling a teeny tiny bit... annoyed. Yes, annoyed. It wasn't like he was jealous or anything, he tried to convince himself.
"Atobe-san's the same as always, isn't he?"
"Yeah. What a cocky bastard," Shishido scoffed.
Choutaroh blinked in surprise, wondering if he had missed something. A fight between his two upperclassmen perhaps. He shrugged it off as none of his business and tactfully switched subjects. "I wonder when Mizuki-san and Fuji-san are coming."
He wasn't the only one wondering where the two were. At the other side of the room, Akazawa checked his watch impatiently. "It's been an hour already. What's keeping them?"
"You know how Mizuki-san is," Kaneda spoke up nervously. When the captain got cranky, he usually took it out on the youngest and meekest of the group... namely, Kaneda. And while Kaneda wasn't into pain so that he wanted to hasten the verbal abuse, he knew from experience that Akazawa would get even more mean if someone didn't say anything to calm him down, pronto.
"He's being fashionably late, as usual," Kaneda hazarded a guess, and knew he had hit on the perfect explanation.
It certainly wouldn't be the first time they had to wait around for Mizuki's convenience - nor would it be their last. Even in his days as a manager, Mizuki would saunter in late to meetings (when he had bothered showing up at all) and launch into a description of new training menus without so much as an apology or excuse for his tardiness. And everyone had accepted it as Mizuki being Mizuki, while they gave Yanagisawa hell when he tried pulling the same stunt. Leniency was a luxury reserved only for the pretty.
Even now, Akazawa stopped scowling as he mulled over Kaneda's theory. "That sounds like him," he admitted, bad mood melting away. He pictured Mizuki in a silk rose-print robe, fine brows knit beneath the curly locks as he picked out then discarded outfit after outfit, completely oblivious to the passing time. So adorable!
Kaneda let out a long-suffering sigh. His captain was so transparent when it came to Mizuki, although it was just as obvious that Mizuki didn't feel the same and simply liked toying with the smitten man's emotions. But then, Kaneda grudgingly admitted to himself, they did share a strange co-dependent friendship that went beyond Akazawa's uke-worship and Mizuki's self-absorption.
Speaking of self-absorbed... Atobe had finally gotten enough fuel for his ego, so he snapped his fingers. Instant silence. "So where's the lucky couple?"
"Uh..." People looked around, finally catching on to the fact that the guests of honor were missing.
"Isn't that them?" Shinjo indicated Oshitari and Gakuto. The pair was, as always, standing much closer than people of non-intimate relationship normally would, bodies turned toward each other even though their focus was now on the Johsei Shounan player. Gakuto's flaming haircut and clothes and Oshitari's liberally applied kohl eyeliner also advertised their general gayness.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Kouhei added his assent and everyone turned to Youhei to see what he had to say.
The maroon-haired twin stopped mid-chew, cheeks ballooned up like a chipmunk. Oh great, he thought. Stupid brother had to talk when I'm unprepared. "Mmrgh." He made little 'I'll pass' hand gestures, but they continued staring at him, waiting.
His discomfort quickly mutated into indignation. Why was it that he and Kouhei had to say things in unison or as a tag team, anyway? It wasn't fair that the two were one inseparable entity in people's minds, simply because they came from the same egg and referred to themselves as a unit. Yes, he had to make a stand here and now or else he'd always be known as the first half of Youhei-and-Kouhei.
He fidgeted under the expectant gazes, swallowed quickly, and mumbled, "We saw Kikumaru-san running up to them earlier." He sulked, berating himself for being so weak-willed.
"Well that explains why everyone was congratulating me," Oshitari reflected, not at all displeased. "I thought it was about my new album."
"They thought we were the ones getting married?" Gakuto tilted his chin to look up at the taller man, as if he was re-evaluating their relationship in light of the news. He dissolved into hysterical laughter. "How funny, Yuushi! They thought we were a couple! A couple! Isn't that wild?"
Oshitari facefaulted as Gakuto elbowed him, laughing as if he had heard the funniest joke ever. "Yes, I wonder how they got that idea," he drawled moodily. He gave Shinjo a hard look, not liking the way the other blue-haired man was eyeing his cuter half, and laid a possessive hand on an oblivious Gakuto's shoulder. His whole stance screamed 'Mine. Back away.'
Of course, he was just being paranoid. Shinjo, being a tennis-playing robot, had no interest in anyone of either sex, unless you counted his abnormal devotion to his coach and master.
"So if that's not them, where are they?" Kouhei brought the conversation back on track, and his brother gave him a death glare as he submitted his own witty, "Yeah."
Oishi slapped himself on the forehead as he realized what had most likely happened. "Don't tell me Eiji forgot to tell them!"
Crickets chirped.
"Saa..." Fuji smiled. "I'll give them a call," he volunteered, at the same time Akazawa did. Perfectly in sync, the two whipped out their mobile and punched in their speed dials before anyone else could so much as blink - Fuji calling his brother's phone while Akazawa called Mizuki's.
They were quickly engrossed in their respective conversations, Akazawa showing considerably more success. Progress was slow as the younger Fuji strongly resisted the idea of a bachelor party in his honor.
But before the guests could get too bored waiting around, Eiji ran back into the room, a tennis racket in each hand. He brandished the gray one with the 'K' inscribed in Gakuto's direction and declared, "Mukahi, I challenge you to a duel."
"Uh... honey... this isn't the appropriate-----"
"Isn't this perfect," Gakuto cut Oishi off, quickly adopting a menacing expression. "I accept your challenge, Kikumaru. Your half-hearted acrobatics is no match for my step aerobics!"
"Uh... Eiji," Oishi tried again, tugging at his lover's arm. The last thing he wanted was an all-out rivalry, with the guests divided along hostile school lines. Already, Hyotei was rooting for Gakuto while the rest of Seigaku allied themselves with Eiji.
"Don't worry nya," Eiji whispered to him, totally misinterpreting his concern. "I can take him. Then he'll have to shut up."
Oishi groaned. It sounded more like they were going to engage in a fist-fight rather than a civilized tennis match. And the way they were now goading each other, he wouldn't be surprised if they actually did pull out the punches, with half the guests jumping in. Oh the injuries and damages that were sure to result.
"Naa... the nearest tennis court is thirty minutes away," Kawamura interrupted them timidly. "You can't make it back before Mizuki and Yuuta arrives."
"We can if we follow Tezuka-senpai's squad car!" Momoshiro called out half-jokingly.
"Momoshiro. Do you want to run another 20 laps?"
"No, sir," Momoshiro replied meekly, then whispered loudly to Ryoma, "Geez! He's such a stickler for the rules. I bet he'd ticket his own mother for jaywalking." He feigned innocence as Tezuka bore holes into the back of his head.
Fuji smiled serenely as he pocketed his phone. "Why don't you settle your grudge some other way?" he suggested sensibly. He had finally managed to cajole his brother in coming, and didn't want to miss either Yuuta's arrival or Eiji's match.
"Other way? How, Fuji? Tell us, tell us." Eiji begged, curious. His friend always had some pretty weird ideas, but they sometimes turned out to be fun.
"Hm." Fuji considered the materials at hand. "Oishi, do you have a roll of ace bandage, and some duct tape?"
"I think so, yeah."
They watched uncomprehendingly as Fuji took the rackets from Eiji and wound the retrieved bandage around the handles to hold them together. He then secured it with duct tape to make it sturdier and looked satisfied with his handiwork, which resembled a long pole.
"The game is limbo."
"LIMBO?!"
"Yes. Whoever can go the lowest, wins," Fuji said simply.
Kaidoh was about to point out that limbo had nothing to do with tennis, but then realized it made perfect sense. Gakuto and Eiji were renowned for their balance and flexibility, the two skills required for Fuji's game of choice, and it had the added bonus of being something that could be played without leaving the house.
Gakuto and Eiji exchanged wary glances. "I'm fine with it," the former spoke first, shedding his jacket and tie.
"Well, I'm doubly fine with it." Eiji made a face, sticking out his tongue and pulling down on his eye.
Oishi pulled his lover aside. "Eiji, are you sure it's okay?" he asked worriedly. "You haven't done any acrobatics since we had Kenji... if you suddenly strain yourself, you might pull a muscle."
"Daijoubu, daijoubu," Eiji said dismissively. Apparently, a realistic assessment of his current body condition couldn't put a damper on his competitive spirit. "I can't lose to this guy. Besides," he winked, rotating his shoulder to loosen up, "you can't say some of our more creative sex didn't involve me in stretching in unbelievable ways."
Oishi quieted and blushed.
"Hm..." Sengoku rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "An impromptu contest between Seigaku's Kikumaru and Hyotei's Mukahi... this should be good." He smiled, then slapped Minami on the back. "Yosh! It's decided! Minami-kun will play for Yamabuki!"
"Wh-what?"
"And the game will be strip limbo. If you touch the pole, you lose one piece of clothing. If you fall, two. The game goes on until everyone but the prince of bendyness is naked," Atobe revised the guidelines off-handedly and there were appreciative murmurs at the thought.
"Good thinking, buchou," Oshitari purred. He hoped the Seigaku red-head would be good enough to get Gakuto shirtless, although he doubted it'd get farther than that. He had great faith in Gakuto's abilities.
"Isn't it? I hope Johsei sends out that yummy captain of theirs." Atobe eyed his own target. "I wouldn't mind giving him a private showing later on."
Unfortunately, the little guy sprang forward, causing Yanagisawa to accuse them of cheating. "That's unfair da ne. He can walk under what most people would have trouble with da ne!"
The two teams squabbled over what was and was not allowed as Minami, protesting mutiny, was forcibly dragged out by his teammates. Sengoku cupped his hands to his mouth. "Yo! Fudosan! Send out your representative!"
"It's Fudomine!" Mori yelled back, then returned to the huddle.
"What do you think? It's our team's pride on the line." Tachibana regarded the matter with utmost seriousness. While it was totally beneath him to participate in such an undignified game for ridiculous stakes - it'd be as out-of-character as Tezuka volunteering to play - he was sure there was someone else willing to do the dirty work for the good of the team. And sure enough...
"Please leave this to me, Tachibana-niisan," good ol' dependable Kamio entreated. "I think I can win."
Breathing quiet sighs of relief, the others gave their unanimous approval and pumped their fists in the air, breaking with a hearty "Go Fudomine!"
And so the battle between the schools was underway.
-----
It had been back when Yuuta was sixteen, still naive and uncorrupted despite the rather immoral company he kept. The guys on the team had somehow persuaded him to accompany them to a gay strip club to celebrate Mizuki's eighteenth birthday, so armed with a fake ID and a whole lot of trepidation, Yuuta was introduced to a dimly lit room where well-built, oiled-up men danced around poles and rubbed up against customers for money.
It was okay at first. While he was slightly uncomfortable, simultaneously feeling the need to gawk at everything and avert his eyes so as not to draw attention to himself, it wasn't nearly as bad as he had feared it'd be.
Mizuki, for his part, seemed to be enjoying himself. Each friend flagged over a different stripper with a wad of bills, and paid for the newly legal Mizuki to be pleasured in various ways. His face was flushed with booze and happiness as he basked in the attention, totally feeling the love.
Then, it was Yuuta's turn to gift his senpai. He picked the closest stripper, feeling a bit foolish as he signaled the worker over. By some weird coincidence, the man bore an uncanny resemblance to his brother, with the same pleasantly smiling face and straight brown hair that shagged a bit longer than usual for guys. This flustered Yuuta enough so that he dropped the bill, and as he bent to pick it up, his eye was right on level with the guy's bulging crotch.
Still bent over, Yuuta quickly stuffed the money down the guy's underwear, only he was too hasty in his action. His fingers got caught in the tight elastic and he panicked as he felt more than paper in there.
He let out an unmanly scream and fell backward onto his ass, jerking his hand back reflexively. The thin straps of the leopard-print thong snapped with it, and money and the stripper's generous-sized goods flew in his face.
"My virgin eyes!" Yuuta clapped his hands over said virgin eyes, permanently scarred by the experience.
"Fucking ass burn!" the stripper yelped as he rubbed at his chafed, stinging buttcrack, even as the group roared in drunken amusement and shoved Yuuta back into the poor man's naked lap.
Mizuki & Co. were promptly thrown out of the establishment by the ticked-off bouncers, never welcome there again. The boys didn't care though; they were too busy laughing at Yuuta's expense, those insensitive clods. It was years before they stopped bringing it up, and Yuuta vowed never to put himself in that kind of situation again.
So why wasn't his brother letting him off?
"Really, aniki, I'm about to die." Yuuta coughed belatedly, for effect. "It's really contagious, too."
"You're so cute when you try to lie," Fuji responded cheerfully, "because you're so bad at it."
Yuuta growled in frustration. His brother had already brushed aside the more credible too tired, dislike crowds, have a stomachache, and have last minute wedding prep excuses. "It's against my religion," he tried, a touch of desperation creeping into his tone.
"Isn't your entire relationship with someone of the same sex against your religion?"
Breaking out into cold sweat, Yuuta glanced around the bedroom for some sort of escape. Mizuki was prattling on happily to Akazawa on his purple cell - no help there. Yuuta moved to the bed and started banging the headboard against the wall, holding his phone up so that the sound would be picked up on the other end.
"Oh would you listen to that," he got back on the line. "I'm too busy screwing Hajime at the moment... sorry, aniki. This is going to take all night."
It was a last-ditch effort to stun his brother into hanging up. Of course, there was a real possibility that it'd backfire, and Fuji would quip back with some totally inappropriate, embarrassing comment.
There was a muffled question as Fuji consulted someone in the room. "It'd be rather difficult to 'screw Hajime' over there when he's coming here. I can come by if you want some help with that though," Fuji offered.
Yuuta buried his head into his pillow, scream choked off as he attempted self-suffocation.
"So, when do you think you'll be over?"
-----
Yuuta stopped halfway up the driveway, doubling over and tucking his head between his knees. "I can't do this," he hyperventilated. "Hajime, go call an ambulance for me."
Mizuki rolled his eyes. And people called him melodramatic. "Yuuta-kun, everyone's already forgotten that strip club incident by now."
"You didn't," Yuuta peered up with accusing gray eyes. "You mentioned it, just now! How did you know what I was spazzing about if you weren't thinking of it, too?"
"Okay, maybe it's a little too amusing to forget," Mizuki conceded with a chuckle. He smiled patronizingly and petted Yuuta gently. "It was just so precious, you getting all traumatized over the man's genitals."
Yuuta looked at him crossly. "If this is supposed to make me feel better, it's not."
"My point is... no one even knows about it, except for buchou, Yanagisawa-kun, and Kisarazu-kun."
"That's three people too many."
"But you were really cute!" Mizuki insisted, as if that made it all better. He tapped Yuuta lightly on the nose. "It was then that I saw how much you needed to be taught, in areas outside of tennis."
Yuuta pouted. "Is that all I am? A charity case?"
"Of course not. You're..." Mizuki searched for an appropriate metaphor. "...a jigsaw in the puzzle that makes up me. I'm incomplete without you."
It was the type of quasi-complimentary, mostly self-centered sort of thing that might be deprecating if one over-analyzed it in depth. But Yuuta found it incredibly sweet, and temporarily forgot about his stripper-phobia as they kissed.
They were in the middle of tonsil-hockey on the lawn when Taichi spotted them. He hoisted himself up on the railings of the veranda for a better look, squinting into the dark to make out the figures. "Akutsu-senpai! Look desu!" He pointed. "Isn't that Mizuki-san and Fuji Yuuta-san?"
His companion flicked his eyes over, before tossing his cigarette and grinding it out with the toe of his boot.
"Should I call to them, should I? Akutsu-senpai! What are you doing?" Taichi ran around as the other man picked up the garden hose, turned on the faucet full blast, and thoroughly drenched the unsuspecting two.
The commotion they made drew all the guests in the house to the windows.
"It's Mizuki and Yuuta da ne!"
"Mizuki!!"
"Yuuta!"
"Well, it's about time!"
Akutsu swept a hand across his chest and did a mock bow. "Welcome, revered guests."
Yuuta sighed as he squeezed water out of his sodden shirt. Guess there was no escaping his fate.
"Just put some money down the stripper's pants right away," Mizuki advised, as they squished their way up to the house. "Then you'll get over your... gun-shyness... and see that there's nothing to be afraid of."
"Right," Yuuta muttered. "Good plan."
Oishi met them at the door with large, fluffy towels and ushered them into the bathroom before they could drip all over the place. The T-shirts and jeans he lent them weren't what Mizuki would have chosen to wear, but at least they were dry.
Now changed, they walked into the main room. Yuuta was a little surprised at the number that had shown up and a tad curious at why Atsushi-senpai, Kikumaru-san, Kamio, the guy from Yamabuki whose name he couldn't remember, and the little red-head from Hyotei were all cramped onto the small sofa, naked. The first four held cushions over their laps but the latter only had a clear bowl, the contents of which were rapidly disappearing.
"Yuushi! Go eat the chips from over there," Gakuto scolded, re-distributing the chips so that it completely covered the bottom.
"But these taste better," Oshitari replied straight-faced, and reached in to continue his treasure hunt.
"Rhythm failed," Kamio said glumly, leaning forward with his chin propped in his hands.
"Mou, I can't believe we lost," Eiji moaned, flinging himself back and pedaling his legs in frustration. "Who knew anyone could bend that far back! It's unnatural!"
"Johsei Shounan's Kajimoto Takahisa... a formidable opponent," Inui murmured, pushing up his glasses. "I need more data on him."
Yuuta's eyes roamed the rest of the room and fell on the uniformed man in the corner. Taking a deep breath, he marched purposefully over, grabbed a slightly damp 1000-yen note from his back pocket, and stuffed it down Tezuka's pants without incident. Success!
He was busy congratulating himself on not screwing up when he became aware of the deathly silence.
"Yuuta," Fuji spoke first.
"What is it?"
"That badge - it's real."
"Huh?" Yuuta looked in confusion from his brother's light-hearted smile to Tezuka's cold glare.
"Ore-sama da." Atobe drew attention to himself. He wasn't role-playing as a cop or fireman, but his profession was amply clear from his attire. "I'm the stripper."
Complete shock.
"If you're- and that's- that means- I thought that-" Yuuta babbled incoherently.
"FUJI." Tezuka did an admirable job of controlling himself, although the tips of his ears were bright pink. "Fifty laps around the block. Now," he barked.
"Yes, sir!" Yuuta broke into a flat-out run while Mizuki clucked with sympathy.
"Well, let's get started already! Kabaji, the music."
And Atobe proceeded to get down and dirty with the remaining to-be-wed, while poor Yuuta, being too honest for his own good, ran all fifty laps in the dark. But since it meant he missed a great majority of the dreaded bachelor party, he didn't mind.
Everyone was clothed again by the time Yuuta returned, and the people nearest and dearest to Mizuki's heart were reminiscing about his numerous sexual exploits in his younger, wilder days. Mizuki reclined back on the sofa with a glass of wine while the others surrounded him in a semi-circle, the group often stopping their storytelling to break into raucous laughter. Judging from the rosiness of his cheeks, Yuuta guessed Mizuki had consumed quite a bit of alcohol already.
"And don't forget that time with Kyou after lights out," Atsushi chimed in as Yanagisawa paused for breath, adding another name to the long list of schoolmates that had come before. "I thought for sure the priests would catch you guys."
"Ah yes," Mizuki sat up slightly, eyes misting over at the memory. "Although that doesn't match up to confessional booth sex with Hatori. How I miss those single days," he sighed regretfully.
"A-HEM."
"But still, there comes a time when every man must settle down with the one he loves," Mizuki navigated smoothly, and kissed Yuuta on the cheek as the younger man slid in next to him. Everyone awwwed.
"Well, it's time for speeches!" Eiji chirped, jumping on top of a chair and clapping his hands. "The best man Akazawa will make a toast for groom number one!"
"I've known Mizuki for years now, and he's been a wonderful friend," Akazawa started with utmost sincerity. "He's everything I could have ever asked for - loyal, caring, smart, hard-working, selfless, generous, modest..."
"Where's he getting this from?" Atsushi whispered.
"Isn't it obvious? He's making it up da ne."
The guests were forced to sit through a 30-minute recitation of Mizuki's good points, real or imagined, while Mizuki listened with rapt attention, tears streaming down his face.
"How true, how true," he sniffed, delicately dabbing at his eyes with a tissue.
"...and oh Mizuki, why don't you marry me? I'm so much better than Yuuta in every way," Akazawa wrapped up his speech. "Cheers." He knocked back his glass of champagne before he was led off by Oishi and Kaneda, and Eiji once again took the stage.
"Now, we'll hear from best man number two! Fuji!"
"Keep it short!" someone yelled.
"Hm... what can I say about my cute little brother?"
"Oh God," Yuuta groaned, expecting the worst.
"I think my feelings about him are obvious." Fuji slit his eyes open, blue irises homing in on Mizuki. "I won't forgive anyone who dares hurt him."
Mizuki gulped and scooted a bit closer to Yuuta.
"And now I'd like to hand over the rest of my speech to Akutagawa-san."
Everyone looked over at the sleeping Jiroh, wondering what ace Fuji had up his sleeve and whether it was okay to let him go through with his devious scheme. Atobe shrugged, pausing in the counting of his money. "Go ahead, Kabaji. Wake him," he commanded.
"Usu."
Jiroh was rudely wakened in the usual lift-and-dangle method. "Ah- what? Is it over already?" He tousled his hair and suppressed a yawn.
"Jiroh, we need you to give a speech for them," Atobe waved vaguely over at where Mizuki and Yuuta were sitting. "For some reason."
"Ah!" Jiroh pointed excitedly. "I know him!"
"Uh, Jiroh, I think you mean him." Oshitari rotated him three degrees to the right, so that he was now pointing at Yuuta. "You beat him in 15 minutes during the consolation match, remember?"
"No, no! Him!" Jiroh bounded up to Mizuki and examined him up close. "I'm sure of it. We made out after the game!"
Oh crap. Mizuki blanched. He had completely forgotten about that.
"What? What are you talking about?" Yuuta asked in bewilderment. "Why would you guys make out?"
"Are you sure you didn't dream it, Jiroh?" Shishido sounded skeptical.
"Well, at first I thought I was, cause he looked like an angel, y'know. He had the sunlight hitting right behind him like a halo and everything. It was seriously cool!" Jiroh enthused, getting into his story. "But then he grabbed me by my shirt and shouted obscenities at me so I thought maybe not. Anyway, one thing led to another and we ended up behind the drinking fountain, kissing."
"That's just ridi--" Yuuta caught the guilty shifting of his lover's eyes. "Hajime?" His tone was incredulous. "Is this true?"
"Well, I was just getting back at him for you, Yuuta," Mizuki laughed fakely. "It wasn't like it meant anything."
"Oh." Jiroh's face fell in disappointment. "Does that mean we can't do it again?"
"Maybe you should go back to sleep," Choutaroh advised. Yuuta seemed just about ready to kill someone, and Jiroh was unwittingly making himself pretty high on the list of potential victims.
"Nah, I gotta get to work." Jiroh yawned again. "I've got the graveyard shift... at the graveyard."
"Don't fall asleep in the holes you dig." Gakuto rolled his eyes. "They might think you're a corpse and bury you."
"I think they learned not to do that after the first time," Jiroh called over his shoulder, unperturbed, and then he was gone.
But the trouble was just beginning.
"I can't believe you kissed him!" Yuuta exploded, jumping to his feet and balling his hands into fists. "How is that getting back at him? How? No, I'd really like to know."
"I figured, you know... if I couldn't bring them to their knees in tennis, I can do it in other ways... Hey, I was just a stupid kid then," Mizuki defended himself, rising as well. "What do you expect?"
"Even if that made any sort of sense at all, which it doesn't, shouldn't you have been getting revenge on Atobe-san? He's the one who beat you!"
Atobe cleared his throat. "Oh, he got me back alright," he interjected. "In the locker room right before the buses left..." He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't resist leering and blowing a kiss in Mizuki's direction. "But as I recall, I wasn't the one down on my knees."
"Oh. My. God." Yuuta turned in a circle, looking at their 'friends' with cynical new eyes. "Is there anyone in this room you haven't slept with?"
Fuji raised his hand. "Me," he announced happily. "I've never had sex with him." Of course, by making this statement, the implication was that he was the only exception.
Mizuki shot Atobe and Fuji glares that could have melted steel before he turned to placate his agitated lover. "Why does it even matter? It's all in the past... It wasn't like we were together then," he tried to reason.
Yuuta wrenched away from Mizuki's touch, hurt and disgust warring for dominance. "Well maybe you like it that way! Maybe you'd be happier being free to screw everyone you run across!"
He instantly regretted his words. Mizuki stumbled back as if slapped, face draining of all color. His voice was very quiet when he finally spoke. "I'm going home. I'm sure you can find somewhere else to spend the night."
The gallery was frozen with shock, afraid to even breathe as Mizuki stormed off without another word. They looked uncomfortably on as Yuuta clenched and unclenched his fists, caught in a state of indecision. A part of Yuuta wanted to move, to run after Mizuki and apologize but the part of him that was stubborn and proud prevented him from doing so.
I mean, c'mon, Mizuki sucked face with Jiroh! The same Jiroh that had schooled him in 15 minutes while half-asleep... Yuuta felt absolutely humiliated. The only worse betrayal would have been to find out that Mizuki had also had a twisted threesome with his brother and Echizen where the three of them had sex on Yuuta's bed and then laughed about how easy it was to beat 'Fuji's little brother' at tennis.
Mizuki had expected Yuuta to brush off all of his past affairs as if they didn't matter. And perhaps they really didn't, but the casual disregard Mizuki showed for sex stung. It was as if anyone would do, and Yuuta was nothing but another notch on the bedpost, the final in a long string of conquests.
There was the angry squeal of tires as a car peeled out of the driveway. "Aniki, I'll be outside when you're ready to go," Yuuta said tonelessly.
As soon as he left, the comments started up, fast and furious. "Man, that was harsh."
"I didn't see that coming."
"Do you think the wedding's off?"
"Hey!" Eiji waved his arms for attention. "Do we have a couples therapist here by any chance?"
"Aren't they mostly female?"
No one owned up to being one, so Sakurai stood up. "I run a dog obedience school," he offered, then ducked the cups and snacks that sailed in his direction.
"I'll go talk to him," Fuji excused himself.
"This is exactly why exclusivity is a terrible idea," Momoshiro doled out his expert opinion. "People should be free to bang whoever they want, instead of being chained to the same person, day-in, day-out."
"No, it's because he slept with everyone that Fuji-senpai's little brother got mad," Ryoma corrected.
"Echizen! Don't think you're wiser than me about sex, just because you've turned out to be a closet pervert. Listen to your senpai. I know these things. Every day at work, I have to listen to these lonely women... bored housewives who say the fire's sizzled out from their marriages, and wish they were still single."
"Eh? I thought you weren't a couples therapist."
"I'm not, you dimwit." Momoshiro whacked Ryoma lightly upside the head. "I'm a radio talk show host. It's just that these are the type of people sitting at home, listening. Oh yeah." He snapped his fingers and turned to Kamio. "You'll never guess who called in the other day... Ann-chan! Remember her?" he went on, oblivious to the mad twitching of the red-head's eyebrows.
"Man, was she a tiger in the sack. Mrowr."
"Teme!" Kamio launched himself at Momoshiro, tackling him to the ground. "How dare you talk about my wife like that!"
"EH?! You actually married her?!"
Anything else he was about to say was cut off when Kamio started to strangle him.
"Ah... we should stop them." Kawamura wrung his hands as he looked to Akutsu, who immediately slammed him up against the wall.
"Don't tell me what to do," Akutsu threatened.
"Kawamura-senpai, here." Ryoma slipped him a racket, which predictably sent Kawamura into burning mode.
"YOU! AKUTSU!" He swung the racket wildly. "WHAT WOULD YUUKI-CHAN THINK, TO SEE YOU PICKING FIGHTS ALL THE TIME?"
Akutsu drew back his fist and decked him, not because he was particularly irritated by Kawamura's casual address of his mother, nor at being 'ordered around' but because he was itching for a fight. It had been too long since he had heard and felt the satisfying crack of knuckles hitting flesh. Too bad Taichi never let him beat up on their co-workers.
"Ororo..." Kawamura slumped to the floor, spirals for eyes.
Oishi would have ran to help his friend but his knees suddenly gave out and he also fell, twitching. About a dozen others joined him on the floor, gagging and dropping their paper cups to clutch at their throats.
"Ahh! What's going on?"
"Did someone spike the punch?"
Arai backed away, horrified as the liquid changed color and started to bubble up the sides of the bowl in delayed chemical reaction.
"Don't tell me..."
"It's my Special Bachelor Party Tropical Punch Inui Juice. Well?" Glasses glinted as Inui grinned evilly. "How is it?"
"I think I'm going to puke," Kaidoh gasped, face completely blue. He grunted as someone used him as a stepping stone, leaving a shoe imprint on his back.
"You, freshm'n." Hiyoshi Wakashi stumbled his way toward Ryoma, drunk off his ass. "I hav' a score to settle wit' you."
"Do I know you?" Ryoma asked bluntly. There were just too many people he had pissed off as the freshman ace to keep track of.
"You ruined my t'nis career. I was s'posed to be'come cap'n after Atobe-san, take Hyotei to nat'nals. But be'cuz I losht to you, coach wouldn't even lemme be regular."
"Ahh! It's that substitute from the tie-breaker game!" the peanut gallery, aka Horio, Kachiro, and Katsuo, chorused.
The memory clicked. "Oh yeah, the low-class guy."
"Why you--" Hiyoshi lurched at him, intending to unleash a well-deserved can of whupass.
Rikkaidai's Kirihara Akaya saw this and took it upon himself to prevent the imminent altercation. He hadn't been one of those invited. It was chance that he had slept through his subway stop and had been kicked off at the end of the line and chance that he had caught a few familiar faces heading above ground, talking about a party. Since he had crashed the joint and helped himself to the free food and entertainment, it was just right that he repay his hosts.
He picked up the racket not given to Kawamura, unpocketed a tennis ball from his jacket, and served it at the attacking Hiyoshi with flair, all the while patting himself on the back for being awesome like that.
The ball missed its target when Hiyoshi, motor skills being considerably deteriorated, tangled over his own two feet and tripped. It hit Nitobe instead, propelling the Yamabuki player into the snack-laden table. Everything went flying, and a toxic rain of Inui Juice pelted the shouting crowd. The ball then ricocheted off the chandelier and smacked Choutaroh, who stumbled straight into the aquarium, knocking it over.
Water sloshed all over and Oishi's precious tropical fish flopped helplessly on the ground: Tezuka II, Oishi II, Eiji II, Fuji II, Taka II, Inui II, Momo II, Kaidoh II, and Ryoma II all suffered slow, painful deaths. Taichi, completely blinded by his headband, slipped on the water and skidded all the way to the sofa, where he fell over with a heavy "Oof!"
"Tachibana-san!" The Fudomine members - minus Kamio, who was too busy throttling Momoshiro - dove to protect their captain from the tennis ball whizzing his way, and clonked heads.
"Daichi! Saaaaave me!" Ohta's short form was swallowed up as people ran around the crowded room in panic, crashing into each other, tripping over the writing bodies on the floor, and generally adding to the chaos. It was a complete battle scene, food and juice staining the carpets, furniture, and walls, and guests holding out their arms for help like wounded soldiers.
"Ya... yabe..." Kirihara picked his jaw up from the floor and slowly inched his way to the exit, crab-style, where he beat a hasty retreat.
"Everyone, 30 laps, now!"
The ones who could still move sluggishly headed outside, muttering about how this was the worst party they had ever been to.
"Mataku, this sucks. If I had known it'd be like this, I would have stayed at home. Of course, Tachibana-san told me to come and I listen to everything he says. But no one else. Not even Kamio and he's my best friend. I heard him tell Ann-chan that she was his best friend though. Maybe it's time to find a new best friend. I wonder if Echizen has one already. Can rival florists be best friends, I wonder. Ah- if I can get him to give me those pruning shears, it'll mean we aren't really rivals."
People slowed down drastically so they wouldn't have to listen to Shinji's nonstop mumbles. Then they pulled ahead when they reached the Kikumaru-Oishi home, dashing to avoid the rocks and clumps of dirt Akutsu had taken to throwing at passerbys.
Sengoku, who had escaped all the dangers unscathed, wandered back inside, deciding he didn't have to do the laps. He had a policy of listening only to his coach and as luck would have it, Ban-jii (nor Ban-jii Jr, which he had just now decided was his new nickname for Fuji) wasn't here to boss him around.
"So," Atobe was addressing the others. "Anyone up for a captains' orgy?"
Tezuka, Tachibana, and Kajimoto didn't deign to answer, simply reinforcing their 'we're serious, uptight, anal retentive, alpha male semes who absolutely refuse to be bottom for anyone' attitudes. Akazawa just sat on his haunches, looking miserable as he whimpered Mizuki's name.
"Whatever." Atobe draped his coat over him like a blanket. "Wake me when the roads are clear of pedestrians we might run over, Kabaji."
"Usu."
-----
On to Part 4
posted on Fanfiction.net [September 9, 2003]