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Title: Conventions are for the Weak
Rating: R
Pair: FujiKai
Summary: Kaidoh has an... interesting imagination.


It was his guilty pleasure. Nothing so simple as finding the last piece of his little brother's favorite candy or being used as his mother's taste-tester. It was not so intangible as the feeling he got when Tezuka-buchou called him from the ranks of the regulars to demonstrate a particular move to the freshman.

It was definable and too much, but Kaidoh didn't bother denying it to himself.

And Fuji was... interesting. Not just in that his tensai capabilities could wipe the court with anyone that crossed his path, but in everything. Interesting in the way he hid his eyes and watched the courts through narrow, unreadable slits. Interesting in the way his guileless smile appeared before those soon-to-be defeated. Interesting in the way he carefully picked his words, as if some slip would reveal something unforgivable, incomprehensible, or worse. Interesting in the way he'd let Kaidoh catch him looking (observing, staring) and keep it up until Kaidoh grew flustered and embarrassed - as if to say: Yes, I'm watching, but so are you.

So, Kaidoh would come home, lock his bedroom door and indulge.

He stripped and by then, he was half hard - his body already expectant and eager to get on with business. By the time his back hit the wall behind his bed, he was feeling his skin crawl beneath an azure gaze - because of course, why shouldn't Fuji be watching even now?

"Oh, look. It seems Kaidoh-kun's ready to be all naughty."

Kaidoh took himself in hand as he imagined the words, imagined the challenge that would accompany their tone - as if Fuji didn't think he was capable of such basic functions - and tugged on his erection until it was full. Fuji's voice was silent now and all that was left was the burn of that open-eyed gaze.

The thoughts would drive him to sound - the loud inhales as he tightened his lips against grunts and whimpers, flared nostrils in the effort to keep quiet while Fuji's gaze dropped heat over his skin. He could see the bright shine of Fuji's eyes, the interest and the dare; continue, it seemed to say and Fuji's mouth quirked slightly at the sight of Kaidoh's fingers tilting across the flared head-

"Ah, so good, Kaidoh-kun."

-as many times as it took to force himself to finally gasp openly.

"It makes me want to torture you. Put your fingers... just...-"

His fingertips followed the thick vein on the underside-

"-there..."

-until they were pressing hard against the back of the head, sliding the foreskin, the curve of his nails cutting beneath the flare of skin just enough to have his nerves complaining all the way up his spine.

"Put your fingers in your mouth. Suck on them."

Firm words. Firm tone. To match the way Fuji spoke when guiding him through a strategy. To have him shivering as Fuji directed his actions, determined the manner in which he gained his pleasure.

"Nice and wet, Kaidoh-kun."

So that when Fuji told him to, Kaidoh would smear his saliva to the area between his thighs and feel dirty about it because he was sure normal boys didn't think of things like this... and guilty too because he was sure Fuji was one of those normal boys. And it would be good and satisfying - those feelings - that idea of breaking commandments and societal expectations; so good that he would groan at every shuddering tug on his cock, at the way Fuji's eyes darkened and his mouth carefully enunciated the words:

"What a naughty, delicious boy you are, Kaidoh-kun. Now, come for me."
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