Take It Personally [R; Choutarou/Shishido]
Title: Take It Personally
Author: worblehat
Genre: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Choutarou/Shishido
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Konomi's, yay.
Notes: Meant to steal this prompt from sirenicconsort much earlier.
Summary: Locked in a room.
Word Count: 2,794.
Hanging out at Atobe's wasn't usually an option; it was more of a command. Atobe assumed his team members into his plans as he wished. In most cases, plans that had been made beforehand all somehow got routed to his extensive and impressive grounds. Going out to the movies with a friend turned into watching a movie on Atobe's private screen while dragging said friend along; walking turned into strolls along flowered paths; a fishing exhibit was easily substituted for Atobe's personal aquarium, complete with exotic turtles and one questionable-looking shark.
Still, Shishido grumbled. He hadn't planned to go anywhere or do anything but the thought of Atobe telling him once more that he could do a whole bunch of nothing so long as did it at his place was aggravating. Choutarou tried to lessen the tension between the two, laughing awkwardly as Shishido sulked, sinking visibly downward into the sofa. Normally Choutarou sat almost two heads taller than Shishido when they shared a couch like this but with Shishido's mood, Choutarou began to feel a bit like a giant. He poked Shishido's side as Atobe spoke.
Shishido looked up at him but didn't say anything; even when upset, he knew better than to interrupt Atobe. Or maybe he just didn't want to listen to him more than was necessary; Choutarou could believe both these reasons easily at the same time.
"Did you want to go swimming?" he asked kindly. "Atobe said he brought less embarrassing suits for us to borrow."
"Did he actually say 'less embarrassing?'" asked Shishido, blinking.
"Well...no," answered Choutarou honestly. "He just said they wouldn't be speedos."
Shishido grumbled.
"He also said the game room is open," Choutarou continued, wanting to improve Shishido's mood. Things between them hadn't been strained exactly, but it was getting harder to ignore the way sometimes they would look at each other until one looked away and usually Shishido said something about Choutarou needing to learn not to stare blankly. Choutarou only pointed out once that he wasn't the only one staring; the slight-yet-noticeable flush in Shishido's cheeks made him too embarrassed to say it again.
Shishido didn't answer him as he listed off two more options, hands folded across his chest. Choutarou sighed and tried to pay attention to what Atobe was saying instead. It was difficult.
On the courts, things were the same as always. He practiced daily and hard; Shishido still helped him improve his serve as much as he could and Choutarou tried to help in whatever ways he could think of. He admired the way Shishido played with determination and fierceness. When they played doubles against others, he felt more empowered somehow, as if being on the same side of the net as Shishido somehow bolstered his own skills. Such thinking, he knew, was ridiculous, and he never brought it to Shishido's attention.
He also didn't talk about when they were off the court - about how he'd started to feel more awkward and flustered when they were together, especially if there was no one else around. Shishido wasn't mean or anything like that, in fact, he was usually nicer. Maybe it was how he hesitated.
Shishido rarely hesitated with others. He usually said what he wanted without thinking, hit serves to see which ones he could actually perform on the fly and ate with his mouth open. Choutarou didn't make it a habit to watch people's hands, but he watched Shishido's and they clenched - and only around him, it seemed. He wanted to know what was wrong, what had changed, if he was imagining things - but these questions were too hard.
He didn't feel ready for that sort of talk. Not with Shishido, who would probably say something like "ne, Choutarou, you sure think a lot about dumb stuff."
Choutarou blinked when something poked him in the knee. He looked around the small room - one of many guest quarters in the spacious mansion. No one else was there.
"Where'd they go?" he asked.
Shishido smiled, though it was faint. He took off his hat, ruffled the short locks of his brown hair and put it back on. "I didn't know you got as bored of Atobe's tour speeches as I did."
"I-I don't," protested Choutarou. "I was just thinking about something else."
Shishido's eyes glazed over strangely and he stood up. "I'm hungry. Let's go see what he's got in the fridge."
"Okay," Choutarou agreed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and following Shishido into what he thoought was one of three kitchens. He couldn't remember how many there are in total, but he knew he'd seen at least three. They ended up in the middle-sized one, Shishido leading the way as if he owned it.
"Nah," Shishido said, closing the door of the subzero refrigerator. He tugged lightly on Choutarou's jacket, indicating that he should continue following; Choutarou obliged without a second thought.
"Here we go," said Shishido not too shortly afterward, prying open a heavy-looking door by a shiny golden knob. Choutarou held it in place as Shishido stepped inside the small pantry, checking out the shelves for something interesting to eat. Choutarou's stomach gave a sympathetic rumble.
"Hey uh, Choutarou..."
"Huh?"
Shishido's face coloured in obvious embarrassment. "Can you help me with this?"
Choutarou looked to the shelves. Just out of Shishido's reach, he could see the boxes upon boxes of Pocky: all different flavours, all too high for Shishido to nick. Knowing Atobe, it was probably on purpose.
Letting go of the door, he walked towards Shishido, reaching upward with ease and pulling down a variety pack. "Which one do you want?" he asked, holding them up for Shishido to see.
"Um...this one," said Shishido, taking the strawberry. Choutarou reached up to put them back when he felt Shishido's hand one his wrist. "Aren't you hungry too?"
"Oh."
"Take one," said Shishido. "If you don't like it, we can share." He looked away, his former sulk returning.
"Sure, Shishido-san," Choutarou replied. Without thinking, he separated the chocolate pocky box from the others, placing the rest back in place. For a few seconds, he didn't move, momentarily paralysed by one single thought:
Shishido smells like that shampoo mom wanted to get me.
He shook off this thought almost as soon as he'd realised it was there. The pocky fit neatly into his pocket as he walked towards the door; this day was turning out to be strange but maybe if they joined the others, he could feel less weird and fluttery and Shishido could eat his pocky in peace.
...the only problem to this plan, it seemed, was the pantry door. Choutarou tried it several times before giving up, his face strained and a little pink, soft pants passing through his lips. Shishido looked at him questioningly. "It's stuck," he said apologetically.
Shishido's eyes widened. "What do you mean, 'stuck?'" He moved Choutarou out of the way, handing him his pocky for safe-keeping as he tried the door.
He turned the knob, hit it, kicked it, spit on it, turned it again, swore at getting spit on his hand, kicked it three more times for good measure and then looked at Choutarou. "Do you have your cell phone?"
Choutarou searched in his pockets. "...no."
"Me neither," said Shishido, starting to look a little worried in addition to the anger that was already building in his features. He looked down and kicked at an extra-large can of tomato soup. "Do you think we're stuck here?"
"Uh, maybe," said Choutarou. He was having trouble keeping up with his thoughts; the few whispers of ideas he did understand were things he wasn't sure he wanted to examine more closely. Instead he tried the door again, finally stopping when he felt Shishido's hand on his arm.
"Don't hurt yourself on that," he said, voice soft.
Choutarou nodded and flushed, touched at the concern he heard in his senpai's voice. It only took a few moments before they were sitting on the floor, a small stash of food between them, most of it pocky. Shishido reasoned that if he were actually going to be stuck in a pantry for who-knew-how-long, he might as well try all the flavours in the pack.
There wasn't much room for the both of them to sit but Shishido didn't seem to mind and neither did Choutarou. He liked sitting close - and that was what began to scare him a little. He could feel Shishido's legs flush against his and he seemed to notice it while Shishido was busy stuffing mango pocky into his mouth.
"These aren't bad," said Shishido, reaching for another two coated sticks.
"Oh," said Choutarou; he didn't say anything else until he felt something tapping against his lips. He took the proferred pocky, thanking Shishido, who looked at him for a few seconds before looking away reaching for another box.
Choutarou chewed. Shishido was right - the mango wasn't bad. It wasn't good either.
"How long do you think it will be till someone notices us here?" Choutarou asked when the awkward silence began to eat away at his nerve. Shishido's legs slid back and forth against his each time Shishido reached for something else and it felt nice - and it felt warm.
And it was really beginning to blur things in his head.
"Why, do you have to go to the bathroom?" asked Shishido through a mouthful of papaya pocky.
"No, Shishido-san." Choutarou hid a laugh. Sometimes Shishido asked strange questions.
"Are you sure? I saw a bottle thing over there..."
"I'm sure," said Choutarou a little more forcefully. He smiled a little at Shishido before looking down at his hands. He felt surprised when Shishido's fingers brushed against his knee; it seemed to be accident and Choutarou began to think standing would be a better option.
"Hey Choutarou," asked Shishido, stopping him before he could push himself up.
"Yes?"
Shishido took a while to continue and Choutarou began to worry about where the bottle Shishido had mentioned was; he looked a little like he was going to be sick.
"Can I ask you something?" said Shishido, his voice awkward and faint.
"Sure," said Choutarou, brow furrowed a little.
"Have you ever, uh...kissed anyone?"
Choutarou was 100% certain he hadn't heard Shishido correctly. The look on Shishido's face however, seemed to say he'd heard the question just fine.
"...like on the lips?" he asked back.
"Yeah...I guess."
Choutarou thought back. "Yeah."
Shishido's eyes were rooted to his face now. "Really?"
He nodded. "In second grade. The girls were very forward and I guess Naoko-chan liked me."
"Oh." Choutarou noticed Shishido's hands unclenching and pretended like he hadn't been watching. "But...nothing recently?" pressed Shishido.
"No," Choutarou answered quietly.
They sat awkwardly for a while. Choutarou couldn't help but wonder why he was being asked this: it was the last thing he had thought Shishido would bring up, like something other students worried about but which was too uncool to be on Shishido's mind.
"Do you want to?"
"Shishido-san!"
Choutarou's face was a mask of shock. Was Shishido asking him...well, just what was Shishido asking him?
"Not with me!" Shishido was quick to explain. "I meant...do you have anyone you...you know. Think about kissing?"
Something twisted in Choutarou's heart, painful and strange and squeezing. "No," he said, his voice sounding oddly cold to himself.
It was Shishido's turn to say "oh." Then, "Isort of...do."
Choutarou tried to swallow but found it difficult. After a few tries, he got it right. He tried to look at Shishido's face as he spoke. "...who?" he asked, hoping that Shishido would refuse to answer. The images in his head were getting sharper, more vivid and a surprising number of them were starting to involve Shishido's lips. He didn't want to think about those lips against someone else's.
...who was he kidding. He didn't want to think about Shishido's lips pressing against anyone's but his.
Shishido fidgeted. "It's a little complicated."
Choutarou waited.
"I was hoping..." The second half of Shishido's sentence was short and inaudible. Choutarou asked him to repeat. His eyes went wide when Shishido cleared his throat and said "I was hoping you were going to say me."
"..."
"Sorry," muttered Shishido. "I thought maybe - but I guess I was wrong."
There was nothing but the sound of crunching for a strained two minute span.
Choutarou tried to process this new information. Shishido wanted to kiss...well, he wanted to kiss and he wanted to do it with him, Choutarou, and his face was flushed red, almost as red as Choutarou's, and his knees and his hands and -
"Can I change my answer?" asked Choutarou earnestly. He looked at Shishido's face, and this time it was easy. Hope bubbled and swelled in the center of his chest. He couldn't have heard Shishido wrong - there was no way.
Shishido chewed and swallowed. "Um. Sure."
Choutarou leaned in first and their kiss was dry at first, just lips to lips. He started to pull back and then Shishido's hand was on his knee, touching lightly - surprising Choutarou into a gasp. Shishido looked on uncertainly for a short moment before leaning in again, opening his mouth, tongue sliding in against Choutarou's shocked lips. They waited a little bit before moving, each new trial moving Shishido's hand a little bit up, a little bit in, until he was rubbing at Choutarou's thigh in a way that was making it difficult to keep his mouth closed.
"Sh-Shishido-san..." Choutarou gasped, clasping at Shishido's shirt uncertainly, needing to grab onto something. He was hard and he almost wanted to slide Shishido into his lap and rub and touch and -
Shishido beat him to it, kissing him, distracting him as he placed one leg on either side of Chotuarou's body. He slid closer to Choutarou and that's when Choutarou let out his first moan.
He was just as hard as Choutarou, the blunt lenght of his cock pushing teasingly against Choutarou, more forcefully against his hip, his stomach. Their hands moved, touched and held, the tips of Choutarou's fingers beginning to slip underneath the back of Shishido's shirt, a scared sort of excitement pulsing through his veins.
"Getting off in my pantry?" came an amused voice. "How disturbing."
They broke apart immediately, Choutarou taking a silent sort of pleasure in the fact that Shishido seemed to be breathing just as hard as him, if not more.
"Stop looking at us like that," said Shishido, meeting Atobe's eyes defiantly.
"Shishido-san," said Choutarou, placing one hand on his arm. "Maybe we should see what the others are doing." He smiled apologetically at Atobe.
Two fingers were before Atobe's eyes as he used his Insight to observe the mostly-empty pocky boxes. "...you ate...all...the mango..."
"I think I hear them in the pool!" said Choutarou merrily, dragging Shishido away before Atobe could hit him or worse.
*
"Choutarou," Shishido said, staring down at the pool water.
"Hm?"
"No one's here."
The water splashed as Choutarou dove in. When he surfaced, it was to see Shishido frowning at him.
"I thought you said he got longer suits."
Choutarou chuckled, trying not to choke on the pool water. "I guess he was talking about something else."
Shishido canonballed, water splashing Choutarou in the face. He wiped at his eyes as Shishido swam over towards him.
"Did you know mango pocky was Atobe's favourite?" asked Choutarou as he made sure to stay afloat.
"Oshitari mentioned it."
They looked at each other through smaller splashes of water.
"I liked kissing you," said Choutarou.
Shishido blinked at him, cheeks pink.
"Swim closer."
Their lips met, broke apart, met again, tongues seeking in jumbled attempts as they worked to stay upright. When they pulled away, both were grinning.
"Kissing in water is lame," said Shishido, his tone grumpy, a scowl on his face.
"Mada mada dane, Shishido-san."
"...shut up, Choutarou."
Author: worblehat
Genre: Prince of Tennis
Pairing: Choutarou/Shishido
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Konomi's, yay.
Notes: Meant to steal this prompt from sirenicconsort much earlier.
Summary: Locked in a room.
Word Count: 2,794.
Hanging out at Atobe's wasn't usually an option; it was more of a command. Atobe assumed his team members into his plans as he wished. In most cases, plans that had been made beforehand all somehow got routed to his extensive and impressive grounds. Going out to the movies with a friend turned into watching a movie on Atobe's private screen while dragging said friend along; walking turned into strolls along flowered paths; a fishing exhibit was easily substituted for Atobe's personal aquarium, complete with exotic turtles and one questionable-looking shark.
Still, Shishido grumbled. He hadn't planned to go anywhere or do anything but the thought of Atobe telling him once more that he could do a whole bunch of nothing so long as did it at his place was aggravating. Choutarou tried to lessen the tension between the two, laughing awkwardly as Shishido sulked, sinking visibly downward into the sofa. Normally Choutarou sat almost two heads taller than Shishido when they shared a couch like this but with Shishido's mood, Choutarou began to feel a bit like a giant. He poked Shishido's side as Atobe spoke.
Shishido looked up at him but didn't say anything; even when upset, he knew better than to interrupt Atobe. Or maybe he just didn't want to listen to him more than was necessary; Choutarou could believe both these reasons easily at the same time.
"Did you want to go swimming?" he asked kindly. "Atobe said he brought less embarrassing suits for us to borrow."
"Did he actually say 'less embarrassing?'" asked Shishido, blinking.
"Well...no," answered Choutarou honestly. "He just said they wouldn't be speedos."
Shishido grumbled.
"He also said the game room is open," Choutarou continued, wanting to improve Shishido's mood. Things between them hadn't been strained exactly, but it was getting harder to ignore the way sometimes they would look at each other until one looked away and usually Shishido said something about Choutarou needing to learn not to stare blankly. Choutarou only pointed out once that he wasn't the only one staring; the slight-yet-noticeable flush in Shishido's cheeks made him too embarrassed to say it again.
Shishido didn't answer him as he listed off two more options, hands folded across his chest. Choutarou sighed and tried to pay attention to what Atobe was saying instead. It was difficult.
On the courts, things were the same as always. He practiced daily and hard; Shishido still helped him improve his serve as much as he could and Choutarou tried to help in whatever ways he could think of. He admired the way Shishido played with determination and fierceness. When they played doubles against others, he felt more empowered somehow, as if being on the same side of the net as Shishido somehow bolstered his own skills. Such thinking, he knew, was ridiculous, and he never brought it to Shishido's attention.
He also didn't talk about when they were off the court - about how he'd started to feel more awkward and flustered when they were together, especially if there was no one else around. Shishido wasn't mean or anything like that, in fact, he was usually nicer. Maybe it was how he hesitated.
Shishido rarely hesitated with others. He usually said what he wanted without thinking, hit serves to see which ones he could actually perform on the fly and ate with his mouth open. Choutarou didn't make it a habit to watch people's hands, but he watched Shishido's and they clenched - and only around him, it seemed. He wanted to know what was wrong, what had changed, if he was imagining things - but these questions were too hard.
He didn't feel ready for that sort of talk. Not with Shishido, who would probably say something like "ne, Choutarou, you sure think a lot about dumb stuff."
Choutarou blinked when something poked him in the knee. He looked around the small room - one of many guest quarters in the spacious mansion. No one else was there.
"Where'd they go?" he asked.
Shishido smiled, though it was faint. He took off his hat, ruffled the short locks of his brown hair and put it back on. "I didn't know you got as bored of Atobe's tour speeches as I did."
"I-I don't," protested Choutarou. "I was just thinking about something else."
Shishido's eyes glazed over strangely and he stood up. "I'm hungry. Let's go see what he's got in the fridge."
"Okay," Choutarou agreed, stuffing his hands in his pockets and following Shishido into what he thoought was one of three kitchens. He couldn't remember how many there are in total, but he knew he'd seen at least three. They ended up in the middle-sized one, Shishido leading the way as if he owned it.
"Nah," Shishido said, closing the door of the subzero refrigerator. He tugged lightly on Choutarou's jacket, indicating that he should continue following; Choutarou obliged without a second thought.
"Here we go," said Shishido not too shortly afterward, prying open a heavy-looking door by a shiny golden knob. Choutarou held it in place as Shishido stepped inside the small pantry, checking out the shelves for something interesting to eat. Choutarou's stomach gave a sympathetic rumble.
"Hey uh, Choutarou..."
"Huh?"
Shishido's face coloured in obvious embarrassment. "Can you help me with this?"
Choutarou looked to the shelves. Just out of Shishido's reach, he could see the boxes upon boxes of Pocky: all different flavours, all too high for Shishido to nick. Knowing Atobe, it was probably on purpose.
Letting go of the door, he walked towards Shishido, reaching upward with ease and pulling down a variety pack. "Which one do you want?" he asked, holding them up for Shishido to see.
"Um...this one," said Shishido, taking the strawberry. Choutarou reached up to put them back when he felt Shishido's hand one his wrist. "Aren't you hungry too?"
"Oh."
"Take one," said Shishido. "If you don't like it, we can share." He looked away, his former sulk returning.
"Sure, Shishido-san," Choutarou replied. Without thinking, he separated the chocolate pocky box from the others, placing the rest back in place. For a few seconds, he didn't move, momentarily paralysed by one single thought:
Shishido smells like that shampoo mom wanted to get me.
He shook off this thought almost as soon as he'd realised it was there. The pocky fit neatly into his pocket as he walked towards the door; this day was turning out to be strange but maybe if they joined the others, he could feel less weird and fluttery and Shishido could eat his pocky in peace.
...the only problem to this plan, it seemed, was the pantry door. Choutarou tried it several times before giving up, his face strained and a little pink, soft pants passing through his lips. Shishido looked at him questioningly. "It's stuck," he said apologetically.
Shishido's eyes widened. "What do you mean, 'stuck?'" He moved Choutarou out of the way, handing him his pocky for safe-keeping as he tried the door.
He turned the knob, hit it, kicked it, spit on it, turned it again, swore at getting spit on his hand, kicked it three more times for good measure and then looked at Choutarou. "Do you have your cell phone?"
Choutarou searched in his pockets. "...no."
"Me neither," said Shishido, starting to look a little worried in addition to the anger that was already building in his features. He looked down and kicked at an extra-large can of tomato soup. "Do you think we're stuck here?"
"Uh, maybe," said Choutarou. He was having trouble keeping up with his thoughts; the few whispers of ideas he did understand were things he wasn't sure he wanted to examine more closely. Instead he tried the door again, finally stopping when he felt Shishido's hand on his arm.
"Don't hurt yourself on that," he said, voice soft.
Choutarou nodded and flushed, touched at the concern he heard in his senpai's voice. It only took a few moments before they were sitting on the floor, a small stash of food between them, most of it pocky. Shishido reasoned that if he were actually going to be stuck in a pantry for who-knew-how-long, he might as well try all the flavours in the pack.
There wasn't much room for the both of them to sit but Shishido didn't seem to mind and neither did Choutarou. He liked sitting close - and that was what began to scare him a little. He could feel Shishido's legs flush against his and he seemed to notice it while Shishido was busy stuffing mango pocky into his mouth.
"These aren't bad," said Shishido, reaching for another two coated sticks.
"Oh," said Choutarou; he didn't say anything else until he felt something tapping against his lips. He took the proferred pocky, thanking Shishido, who looked at him for a few seconds before looking away reaching for another box.
Choutarou chewed. Shishido was right - the mango wasn't bad. It wasn't good either.
"How long do you think it will be till someone notices us here?" Choutarou asked when the awkward silence began to eat away at his nerve. Shishido's legs slid back and forth against his each time Shishido reached for something else and it felt nice - and it felt warm.
And it was really beginning to blur things in his head.
"Why, do you have to go to the bathroom?" asked Shishido through a mouthful of papaya pocky.
"No, Shishido-san." Choutarou hid a laugh. Sometimes Shishido asked strange questions.
"Are you sure? I saw a bottle thing over there..."
"I'm sure," said Choutarou a little more forcefully. He smiled a little at Shishido before looking down at his hands. He felt surprised when Shishido's fingers brushed against his knee; it seemed to be accident and Choutarou began to think standing would be a better option.
"Hey Choutarou," asked Shishido, stopping him before he could push himself up.
"Yes?"
Shishido took a while to continue and Choutarou began to worry about where the bottle Shishido had mentioned was; he looked a little like he was going to be sick.
"Can I ask you something?" said Shishido, his voice awkward and faint.
"Sure," said Choutarou, brow furrowed a little.
"Have you ever, uh...kissed anyone?"
Choutarou was 100% certain he hadn't heard Shishido correctly. The look on Shishido's face however, seemed to say he'd heard the question just fine.
"...like on the lips?" he asked back.
"Yeah...I guess."
Choutarou thought back. "Yeah."
Shishido's eyes were rooted to his face now. "Really?"
He nodded. "In second grade. The girls were very forward and I guess Naoko-chan liked me."
"Oh." Choutarou noticed Shishido's hands unclenching and pretended like he hadn't been watching. "But...nothing recently?" pressed Shishido.
"No," Choutarou answered quietly.
They sat awkwardly for a while. Choutarou couldn't help but wonder why he was being asked this: it was the last thing he had thought Shishido would bring up, like something other students worried about but which was too uncool to be on Shishido's mind.
"Do you want to?"
"Shishido-san!"
Choutarou's face was a mask of shock. Was Shishido asking him...well, just what was Shishido asking him?
"Not with me!" Shishido was quick to explain. "I meant...do you have anyone you...you know. Think about kissing?"
Something twisted in Choutarou's heart, painful and strange and squeezing. "No," he said, his voice sounding oddly cold to himself.
It was Shishido's turn to say "oh." Then, "Isort of...do."
Choutarou tried to swallow but found it difficult. After a few tries, he got it right. He tried to look at Shishido's face as he spoke. "...who?" he asked, hoping that Shishido would refuse to answer. The images in his head were getting sharper, more vivid and a surprising number of them were starting to involve Shishido's lips. He didn't want to think about those lips against someone else's.
...who was he kidding. He didn't want to think about Shishido's lips pressing against anyone's but his.
Shishido fidgeted. "It's a little complicated."
Choutarou waited.
"I was hoping..." The second half of Shishido's sentence was short and inaudible. Choutarou asked him to repeat. His eyes went wide when Shishido cleared his throat and said "I was hoping you were going to say me."
"..."
"Sorry," muttered Shishido. "I thought maybe - but I guess I was wrong."
There was nothing but the sound of crunching for a strained two minute span.
Choutarou tried to process this new information. Shishido wanted to kiss...well, he wanted to kiss and he wanted to do it with him, Choutarou, and his face was flushed red, almost as red as Choutarou's, and his knees and his hands and -
"Can I change my answer?" asked Choutarou earnestly. He looked at Shishido's face, and this time it was easy. Hope bubbled and swelled in the center of his chest. He couldn't have heard Shishido wrong - there was no way.
Shishido chewed and swallowed. "Um. Sure."
Choutarou leaned in first and their kiss was dry at first, just lips to lips. He started to pull back and then Shishido's hand was on his knee, touching lightly - surprising Choutarou into a gasp. Shishido looked on uncertainly for a short moment before leaning in again, opening his mouth, tongue sliding in against Choutarou's shocked lips. They waited a little bit before moving, each new trial moving Shishido's hand a little bit up, a little bit in, until he was rubbing at Choutarou's thigh in a way that was making it difficult to keep his mouth closed.
"Sh-Shishido-san..." Choutarou gasped, clasping at Shishido's shirt uncertainly, needing to grab onto something. He was hard and he almost wanted to slide Shishido into his lap and rub and touch and -
Shishido beat him to it, kissing him, distracting him as he placed one leg on either side of Chotuarou's body. He slid closer to Choutarou and that's when Choutarou let out his first moan.
He was just as hard as Choutarou, the blunt lenght of his cock pushing teasingly against Choutarou, more forcefully against his hip, his stomach. Their hands moved, touched and held, the tips of Choutarou's fingers beginning to slip underneath the back of Shishido's shirt, a scared sort of excitement pulsing through his veins.
"Getting off in my pantry?" came an amused voice. "How disturbing."
They broke apart immediately, Choutarou taking a silent sort of pleasure in the fact that Shishido seemed to be breathing just as hard as him, if not more.
"Stop looking at us like that," said Shishido, meeting Atobe's eyes defiantly.
"Shishido-san," said Choutarou, placing one hand on his arm. "Maybe we should see what the others are doing." He smiled apologetically at Atobe.
Two fingers were before Atobe's eyes as he used his Insight to observe the mostly-empty pocky boxes. "...you ate...all...the mango..."
"I think I hear them in the pool!" said Choutarou merrily, dragging Shishido away before Atobe could hit him or worse.
*
"Choutarou," Shishido said, staring down at the pool water.
"Hm?"
"No one's here."
The water splashed as Choutarou dove in. When he surfaced, it was to see Shishido frowning at him.
"I thought you said he got longer suits."
Choutarou chuckled, trying not to choke on the pool water. "I guess he was talking about something else."
Shishido canonballed, water splashing Choutarou in the face. He wiped at his eyes as Shishido swam over towards him.
"Did you know mango pocky was Atobe's favourite?" asked Choutarou as he made sure to stay afloat.
"Oshitari mentioned it."
They looked at each other through smaller splashes of water.
"I liked kissing you," said Choutarou.
Shishido blinked at him, cheeks pink.
"Swim closer."
Their lips met, broke apart, met again, tongues seeking in jumbled attempts as they worked to stay upright. When they pulled away, both were grinning.
"Kissing in water is lame," said Shishido, his tone grumpy, a scowl on his face.
"Mada mada dane, Shishido-san."
"...shut up, Choutarou."