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ravenna_c_tanTitle: Ogata's Loss
Author: Ravenna C. Tan
Fandom: Hikaru no Go
Pairing: Ogata/Akira
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 5700
Disclaimer: Non-commercial fanfic.
Summary: Ogata Seiji 10-dan is fairly sure he loses his mind when he sees Touya Akira kissing another boy in a public place. Insanity would be a good excuse for why he can't figure out who is seducing whom, Akira-kun or himself.
Warnings: Somewhat cross-gen. Ogata is probably around 30, Touya is 17-18.
All the Fault of:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
painless_j who has been jonesing for some Ogata-centric smut! Here you go, my dear, I finished it sooner than I thought I would! I still haven't succeeded in getting all three of them in bed together, but I will eventually...
A/N: I posted an "intro" to Hikaru no Go for those who want to read my Hikago fics without watching or reading the whole 75 episode series, on LJ and IJ. The main thing you need to know here is just Ogata has been a student of Akira's father for many years (all Akira's life, in fact). So he's watched him grow up. I'm assuming Ogata was 12 or 13 when Akira was born. Akira has been living mostly unsupervised since he was 15 since his parents are traveling most of the year now in China and Korea.
Two bits of relevant video to watch before this one, relating to Ogata and Touya:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XUGDuMjPPXA From 4:40 to 7:48
Touya chases Ogata down the day after Ogata watched a game Touya is verrry interested in. Touya is like 13 in this clip.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RGX_7L2ALIo From 2:44 to 4:22
Touya and Ogata playing each other for a title, Touya is a few months shy of 16 here.
Ogata's Loss
by Ravenna C. Tan
The day Ogata Seiji decides he's lost his grip on reality is the day he finds out that Touya Akira not only isn't a virgin, he's been experimenting with boys.
This revelation comes by pure chance, but Ogata is not one to ignore what fortune hands him. He pulls Akira-kun out of the other boy's arms by the scruff of the neck, as if he is a naughty puppy, rooting around in the rubbish and making a mess. Which is pretty much what he says, after stuffing Akira into the passenger seat of his car and driving off, the scent of burned rubber reflecting how scorched he feels inside.
"That is not an appropriate way to conduct yourself," he says, gritting his teeth too hard to contemplate smoking a cigarette, and besides, Akira-kun doesn't like it when he smokes in the car. Although he reminds himself that why he should care about what Akira-kun likes or dislikes is moot, anyway.
Akira-kun, for his part, looks subdued, perhaps a little sullen, but not openly defiant.
"With your father away so much, I know it must be difficult," he continues, although even he is questioning the sincerity of that statement. When has Akira-kun ever needed the slightest correction to his manners, the smallest lesson in how to conduct himself? It's like he popped out of the womb the crown prince of the Go world. "You know that your parents depend on me and Ashiwara to keep an eye on you."
That is not entirely true either. They depend on Akira-kun to take care of himself, and up until now, Ogata thought their trust entirely well-founded.
When Akira-kun finally speaks, it is to say "I'm sorry to have disappointed you," with his face turned toward the passenger side window, as if the side of the road is fascinating to him.
Ogata merely grunts at this, his ire vented as much as he dares to the boy himself.
"I'm nearly eighteen," Akira-kun goes on, as if this is relevant somehow. "And it's not as if I was at a Go event."
Dearest Seiji. He makes a disgusted noise. It was pure chance that he caught sight of Akira-kun walking with someone he didn't know in the Shibuya 109 mall. He immediately suspected the guy of being a pervert, only to follow them and have his entire world turned upside down when it was very clearly and obviously Akira who made the first move.
"You're too aggressive," Ogata barks. "Are these your true colors? Do you know what the Korean delegation said to me in the observation room during the North Star Cup? 'Oh, Touya Akira is so much more polite than we expected after seeing how he plays Go.'"
He hits the brakes, pulling the car to a sudden stop on the side of the road. "Have I been wrong about you all these years?"
Now Akira-kun looks up, slightly shocked. "What are you talking about?"
"Is the Touya Akira who grew up before my very eyes just an illusion?"
Poor Akira-kun, so young and temperamental. "What do you mean? Just because I kissed a boy?"
"In public," Seiji-chan grinds out.
"We were not in public. We were quite well hidden from public view, but not from spies, apparently." Akira-kun's voice is bitter. "And seriously, Ogata-san, you can't possibly think that the only thing I do all day every day is play Go?"
"Your father..."
"Must have had sex at least once in his life," Akira-kun snaps, "or I wouldn't exist. And you're one to talk. Do you think I don't know about the girl with the place near Shinjuku? Ogata-san..."
But he is growling now, as this confrontation spirals more and more out of control. "Get out of the car!" he barks.
"Oga--"
"Get out!"
Akira-kun just shakes his head. He's already pulling his cell phone from his pocket as he opens the door. Poor Seiji-chan pulls away almost before the door is shut, enraged at the thought that Akira-kun is just going to call that pervert and probably pick up where they left off.
He finds himself at that very girl's apartment the next day. She scolds him for seeming indifferent, for not paying enough attention to her, for spending too much time away and then when he is in Tokyo for spending too much time alone. He's not even entirely happy to be with her while he's fucking her, though the actual orgasm is good, very good, as are the few minutes afterward where everything seems relaxed and calm and quiet.
He reaches to stroke her hair, finds its texture and bottle-lightened color annoying, and then she ruins it entirely by talking. As he's dressing hurriedly to leave and she's vowing to call him about this, that, and the other, he resolves what to do. He throws his cell phone into the trash can outside her building and goes to buy a new one, only later realizing that he does not have Akira-kun's number memorized--it was in speed dial in the phone he's thrown away.
But who cares, since he won't be calling Akira-kun anyway.
-*-
Akira-kun for his part finds the entire thing puzzling. This whole business about kissing people in general is highly puzzling to begin with, which is half what he finds interesting about it. The urge to explore has been there for a while, but he was so busy for the longest time... and, truthfully, he's just as busy now, if not moreso now that he's won the Kisei title, but it's not like he needs to make time for a girlfriend or a courtship. Not to kiss boys, anyway, which is one of the major advantages to boys over girls, honestly. A girl, Akira-kun has learned, will want to spend two hours going bowling, or walking in the park and eating a meal, or seeing a movie together, before she'll kiss him -- or at the very least she'll expect for appearance's sake to do so. Whereas boys couldn't care less about appearances. Much simpler. Also, Akira-kun is a bit intimidated by the female anatomy and has resolved not to learn about it until he actually needs to, and to stick with boys for fun.
He thinks he's pretty much figured out boys now, though, at least the kind who will kiss him when he wants, and who will help him get off if he returns the favor--usually with mutual handjobs in a public restroom. He rides the train back home after one such tryst, staring at the window without really seeing the things going by outside as he tries to work through this puzzle that is Ogata Seiji.
Ogata-san. They've known each other all of Akira-kun's life, as dear Seiji had been Touya Kouyo's student from before he was Akira's age. Akira-kun tries to imagine what Ogata-kun must have been like as a hormone-soaked teenager and finds it impossible to picture him as anything but the way he is now, overly intense except when drunk, extremely serious about Go, and yet there is the flashy sportscar, the designer suits, these sort of trappings that say "playboy."
Akira-kun realizes he has never understood these things but that he never needed to before. And are they part of the key to understanding why Ogata-san is so very upset right now?
He thinks back to their Jyudan match, to the comments Ogata-san made to reporters after winning by the skin of his teeth. "You are below me." A gap of skill was demonstrated that day, according to Ogata-san. Whereas from Akira-kun's point of view, just how small that gap was is what his opponent refused to admit.
It was the first time his senpai had failed to pat him on the head.
Hm. And yet, he thinks, maybe this isn't about Go. But with Ogata-san, everything is about Go.
Or is it? After all, isn't that exactly what shocked him so much, learning that for Akira-kun everything was not about Go? The girl who lives near Shinjuku...
Akira-kun's thoughts suddenly tumble in another direction, as if he sees the board from a new angle. It's not about Go, except that it is about Ogata-san and Akira-kun. Now that he sees a new way to attack the problem, he wants to try it out right away. He wants to place his stone into the formation and see if it crumbles. But he has no cell phone reception in the train, and although he hurries above ground at the next station, his call goes straight to voice mail. He hangs up without leaving a message.
A week later the mailbox is telling him it's full, which is interesting since Akira-kun never leaves a message, so someone else must be filling it up. Akira-kun needs a new plan of attack.
-*-
Dear, dear, dear Seiji. He's so rattled about Akira-kun that he loses a preliminary round game in the Meijin tournament, an embarrassing misstep. A few days after the loss he leaves the Go Institute and finds himself staring into a tank of beautiful dwarf gourami, contemplating buying a pair to introduce to his tank at home, but mostly just wanting to watch them. The flow of the colorful fish is the opposite of the black and white, two-dimensional gridded world of Go.
"I thought you might be here."
His blood runs cold at the rasp of that young voice behind him.
"That is, I was hoping I'd find you here, eventually."
He turns to see the demon-child himself standing there. Admittedly, not much of a child any more--they are pretty much of a height now, and he can see that the sweater Akira-kun is wearing is a few inches too short for his arms. The son may end up taller than his father. Ogata grits his teeth. Akira-kun was simply not supposed to grow up, or at least not without permission.
"You aren't answering your phone," Akira-kun persists.
"I lost it," Ogata grunts.
They stare at each other for immeasurable time. Akira-kun seems to be waiting for something. Ogata stares into those fathomless eyes and surrenders to the inevitable move: "Do you need a ride somewhere? Would you like to get something to eat?"
Akira-kun merely nods, and his silence is unnerving.
Ogata drives them to a restaurant he knows--well, to an underground garage nearby it anyway, as one must put the car somewhere. He finds himself not wholly surprised that Akira-kun seems in no rush to open the door.
Akira-kun's hand is on his sleeve, in fact. "I don't want to presume."
"But you are anyway," Ogata says, voice low and tired, betraying not a hint of the painful excitement squeezing his heart right now. It's rather like the heat of a title match, the oppressively charged atmosphere of the Room of Profound Darkness. He looks sidelong at Akira-kun.
"I am sure you will say no if you do not wish to grant my request," Akira-kun says, manners impeccable as always.
He cannot help but answer imperiously. "Something you felt compelled to track me down in person to ask? Just what is this request?"
"Kiss me," Akira-kun says, and the bottom drops out of dear Seiji's world; he is spinning in free-fall, vertigo threatening to make up into down and east into west.
Best to just do as he asks, then, and Ogata anchors himself in the present by pulling Akira-kun to him roughly, his hands yanking the collar of his shirt and nearly cutting his own lip on Akira's teeth. The kiss is pure pleasure, though, the taste of Akira eerily familiar, as if this has happened before, even though it hasn't, unless one counts the hundreds, maybe thousands, of times he has imagined it.
When he lets Akira-kun go, the poor boy's lower lip is bruised, his pants are visibly too tight, and he has that glazed look in his eye that says he's forgotten entirely where he is.
But not who he's with. "Ogata-san..."
"Kiss me in return," Ogata demands.
Akira-kun nods, then crawls tentatively toward him, shifting across the seats of the car, until he has his knees folded under him and his hands cradling his senpai's face. Those ever-serious eyes look into Ogata's for a long moment before they close as he brushes his mouth across parted lips.
Ogata thinks his head might explode. Akira-kun brushes past again, then presses a bit more firmly, the tip of his tongue darting into Ogata's mouth, Akira-kun is all tightly trammeled desire, as utterly intoxicating and potent as a sake and plum wine martini. "You're trying so hard to get it right," Ogata chides.
Akira-kun jerks back, stung. "You didn't like it?"
"Are you going to be like this the whole time? If I let you make love to me, will it be like this?"
"Like what?"
"Like you're ballroom dancing and trying not to make a misstep. If I want that, I can pay for it."
Akira-kun's confidence falters. "But... I mean..." Then seems to resolve a piece of the puzzle. "Well, maybe it's you should make love to me then. And show me how it's done."
Ogata seizes him by the back of the collar, pulling him close again into another crushing, bruising kiss. "I will shatter you like a window in a typhoon if you are too stiff, too rigid, you know. You must bend to me, Akira-kun."
Akira-kin just nods, then squeaks, "Here?"
Ogata looks around the inside of the car as if seriously considering it. Then he unlocks the doors. "Hm, no. Come on."
-*-
Look at Akira-kun trailing slightly behind his older mentor, not quite sure where they are going. At first he thinks Ogata-san has decided to calm down, cool off, and have something to eat or drink first. Wasn't that the pretense, after all? They were going somewhere to eat?
Then he sees a Go Salon up ahead and that makes him wonder too, but they go right past that, and then into the quiet lobby of what looks like a very expensive office building. The reception desk is built into the wall, the glass entirely frosted so no one can be seen, only a small drawer underneath it to pass money through. Paying for the parking? Akira-kun guesses. But no, Ogata-san puts some money in the drawer as it extends toward him. It retracts into the wall, then extends again, a small plastic card the only thing visible. Akira has only the vague sense of a person on the other side of the glass.
Ogata-san takes the card and presses the button for the elevator. When it comes he gets in, waits for Akira-kun to follow, swipes the card through the reader there and presses a button. They rise to the tenth floor, where the card key admits them to a room so white Akira-kun nearly shields his eyes. They leave their shoes by the door and the white carpet is so thick it feels like walking on moss. Ogata-san sheds his jacket, folding it carefully over a chair, then stands, legs slightly spread, by the large bed. He unbuttons his vest, and is fiddling with his cufflinks when Akira-kun realizes he's just standing there staring at Ogata.
"I, um..."
"This was your idea, Akira-kun," Ogata-san points out. "Wasn't it?"
"Well, yes," Akira-kun agrees. "I'm just... not sure what to do from this point forward."
Ogata-san stops moving other than to set his glasses aside. "Come undress me, then. There's no reason to rush."
Akira-kun takes a breath, correctly divining that this is a test of some kind. Testing his resolve, perhaps. That's what he thinks when he has finished with Ogata-san's upper body and is undoing his belt and unzipping his fly. The thing he feels, then sees, so long and hard it has pushed up through the waistband of his underwear, makes him swallow and quaver just a bit. Your typical Japanese man is not hugely endowed, but then your typical Japanese man isn't blond either.
He pulls the pants down anyway, folds them with a neat crease over the jacket, and then looks at the man in front of him. His cock is a proud, red, artful curve away from his body, even the curls around it seeming reddish, and Akira-kun pets his balls the way one would an imposing dog.
"You have a very determined look in your eye," Ogata-san says. He climbs onto the bed, leaving Akira-kun standing there. He props himself up on pillows, one hand idly moving his foreskin up and down his shaft. "Your turn to undress. Go on."
Akira-kun is mindful of the ballroom dance comment, but he can't just toss his clothes aside and leap onto the bed like some little whore in a shota manga. He takes off his clothes methodically, one piece at a time, and folds each one and makes a neat stack on the seat of the chair. That's who he is, and this tryst isn't going to change that.
When he looks up at Ogata-san, it's clear that he has found this little performance every bit as arousing as some fake slutty strip tease--maybe moreso. Akira-kun climbs onto the bed, then sits back on his heels, formal-style, his own prick bobbing in his lap. "I want this to go well," he says. "As I said before, I think maybe you should lead this dance."
-*-
Seiji-chan is entranced by the young man climbing onto the bed. Maybe Akira-kun growing up wasn't so bad after all. He nearly laughs as the dear boy, serious, earnest, and perfectionist as always, abdicates his responsibility for the quality of what is to follow. Ogata also decides he must rethink his initial conclusion about the state of Akira-kun's virginity.
He must also recalibrate all his fantasies in his head. Akira-kun, grown as he now is, is far more beautiful than imagined, and Ogata makes a resolution whether this goes well or badly that he will take Akira-shopping to replace all the hideous things the boy's mother has foisted on him over the years.
Yes, he is thinking ahead, but that is the way Ogata nearly always thinks. He looks ahead. And he knows Akira-kun does, too. Akira-kun is goal oriented.
"The goal here, if we may be claiming there is a single goal to be defined," he says quietly, "is to get my cock into you, for you to come while it's there, and for me to come shortly after that, if not at the same time, which might happen, but is hardly necessary."
Akira-kun just says "Hai" and nods, as if his senpai has just explained a straightforward tsumego puzzle.
"You could try kissing me again," Ogata suggests. "You might be less stiff now that we're out of the car."
"Hai."
Akira-kun crawls over him, lying atop the length of him as he brings their mouths together. His cock nestles into the curve of Ogata's hip, and Ogata's cock presses against his belly. This kiss ends up necessarily more sloppy as Ogata's hands clamp on to Akira-kun's backside, pulling him against him, knocking their noses together.
Akira-kun loses himself in the kissing and rutting for a while, then suddenly finds himself struggling to get away, to stop the inevitable flood of come from his prick, squirting hot and sudden between their bellies as he cries out, distressed, even as Ogata holds him even tighter against him.
"It's all right," Ogata croons. "You can come. You'll be ready again in no time, I'm sure." In fact he's been saying that for a few minutes, but words had ceased reaching Akira-kun for a while there.
"But now we're all..." Akira-kun's blush is so deep it makes his face even redder than Ogata's cock.
"Get a towel from the bathroom and clean us up." Ogata revises his estimate of Akira-kun's experience level downward again. Or maybe getting dirty and raunchy was okay for him with random boys, but not now? Ogata does not ask.
-*-
Akira-kun does as suggested, still breathless from the orgasm and from all the kissing, retrieving a small towel and wiping himself with it. When he returns to the bed, Ogata has a few brightly colored things on the white white bed with him, a few packets of condoms and two small tubes of lubricant. Akira-kun's throat goes dry with anticipation, the tubes making his partner's earlier words somehow sink in.
He's really going to do this. Finally do this.
He uses the towel to wipe off the semen he's left smeared to Ogata's skin, and then follows Ogata's gestures to lie on his back.
"For someone who's just come, you're rather tense," he points out, as he tears the tip off one of the tubes of lube and slicks his fingers with it. "This is supposed to be fun and enjoyable."
"I'm sorry," Akira-kun says. "I'm just nervous."
Ogata decides perhaps it's time to make a few things clear. He rubs a warm hand over Akira-kun's clean belly, then teases near his cock without touching it. Akira-kun's eyes mist over a bit as he lets his fingertips just barely brush the soft shaft, which is already hardening again. "You may feel we are playing a game, but there is no winner or loser here," he says, voice low. "There is also no getting it right or getting it wrong, unless one of us isn't enjoying ourselves."
"I'm sor--"
"No apologizing! If you're not enjoying yourself, I need to work a little harder." He rubs his slick fingers between Akira-kun's asscheeks, making no attempt to penetrate, purely teasing. He is gratified to feel Akira-kun's hips rock toward the touch rather than away from it. He teases one small nipple between his lips and enjoys the sigh that elicits.
"How did you know I would like that?" Akira-kun asks breathlessly, when Ogata has relinquished his hold on the nub and is now just running a finger over it lightly.
"A good guess," Ogata says. "I like it, so thought maybe you would, too."
"Oh." Akira-kun sees the logic in this. After all, its one of the reasons he's stuck to boys himself. "And do you like..." The pause is just long enough for Akira-kun's cheeks to flush again. "Being penetrated?"
"Not especially," Ogata says dryly, but he curves the tip of his finger so that it just barely breaches the tight hole. "I suppose we shall find out if you do?"
"H-hai..." Akira tries to relax--that's what he's always heard you should do--but when Ogata slips a slick finger into him he can't help it when his entire body tenses. Not with pain or even fear, but with an intensity of lust he has previously only experienced while dreaming.
Ogata crooks his finger, stroking Akira-kun on the inside and watching his reaction carefully. It would appear that motion sets off a ripple of pleasure and Akira-kun groans.
It is a hungry sound.
"I'm adding a second finger," Ogata says, "but I won't try it with my cock until you ask."
Akira-kun blinks and looks up at the perfectly white ceiling. Ask? He has no idea how to tell if he's ready, so he just waits for a while, until the fingers drilling into him seem to move freely and both tubes of lube are emptied. And then he tries to think of the appropriate words to say. I want you? He supposes there is a certain kind of passion in supplication, he's just not sure he can bring himself to actually beg.
And he didn't say beg, he said ask.
Akira-kun decides to go for the practical. "When I dream of it, I'm usually on all fours. Can we do it that way?"
"If you like. Why don't you start lying flat on the bed, though, just shift this pillow under your hips."
Akira-kun moves into position, but he asks "Why?"
"The penetration will be somewhat shallower this way. Once you're used to it, if you want, I can lift you up to all fours."
"Ah." He wants to ask, but he has a suspicion that even the question is a foolish one, and asking it might cause him to embarrass himself so badly he won't be able to look Ogata-san in the eye again. He wants to ask how big Ogata-san really is, and whether that's going to make a difference.
"I'm going to put just the tip in, Akira-kun," Ogata-san says, and Akira twists his head to look back and sees Ogata's hand is wrapped around his condom-covered cock so only an inch of it, not even the whole head, protrudes from his fist. He pushes the head of his cock between Akira-kun's cheeks, pressing rhythmically, until at last he pushes in, then pulls out quickly, again and again, until Akira actually tries to push back into him. He lets more of it penetrate on each thrust until he finally lets go his cock and lets it slide all the way in, his balls coming to rest against Akira's ass.
Akira has clawed the white bedcovers into a small mountain range, yet feels a sense of triumph. That feeling only grows as Ogata begins to fuck, pulling back and thrusting forward, and making ripples of pleasure cascade all through Akira-kun's body.
And dear Seiji, though he has longed for this moment of consummation for more years than is seemly to recall, is thrown into a trance of lust so deep, he barely feels his own body other than his cock. Everything is Akira, as his hands skate along Akira's damp ribs, find the curve of his hips, the taste of his sweat at the base of his neck, the scent of him. He loses his sense of himself utterly as he is swallowed by the presence of the young lover he adores, quite suddenly ready, beyond any rational thought, to pledge himself, to make ridiculous and sentimental pronouncements, to promise to go to whatever lengths to please him...
He has lost his mind. But it feels so damn good, he doesn't care.
Akira-kun for his part feels overwhelmed, with sensation, with the feeling of the bedcovers under him, with Ogata-san's weight atop him, with the heat of Ogata's breath and the relentless plunging of his cock into Akira's body. It is everything he hoped sex would be. He comes with a shudder, biting down on the urge to cry out, and it is not like any other orgasm he has had, humping his futon at home or spilling into the fingers of some boy in a restroom. Ogata's cock seems to push it out of him from within, and everything goes white.
When Ogata pulls at his hips, getting him to all fours, he cannot lift his head. Instead he just lifts his ass, in what must surely look like a wanton presentation, and he cries out in surprise as Ogata's next thrust is deeper than before. Ogata barely slows his pace, pushing again and again.
As dear Seiji comes close to his own climax, he reaches under Akira-kun, only to find the parts there sticky and soft. "Ah," he says in understanding, remembering the hair trigger he once had on his own cock. Perhaps he can teach Akira-kun to last a bit longer...
He shakes his head, trying to reassert rational thinking, but that will not happen until adequate blood flow is restored to his head. All his blood is in his cock, and he fucks Akira-kun hard in his rush to finish, to return to normal. He bellows as he comes, crushing Akira once more, this time with his arms around his ribcage as he bears him flat to the bed once more and finishes in him with a last flurry of thrusts.
They lie there, panting, until Akira-kun makes a sound like he is trying to speak. Thinking perhaps he might be trying to say that Ogata is too heavy, Ogata pulls out and rolls to the side. He's going soft but the condom stays on the bulb of his head, still full of jism.
Now they lie panting, but not touching, until Akira puts a hand on Ogata's shoulder. Ogata turns to look at him. He sees one eye watching him from under strands of black hair hanging like seaweed.
He turns toward Akira, brushes the hair back from his face, lock by lock, until he is looking at what surely is the absolutely most beautiful face he has ever seen. Did he always think that? Or was it the sex that makes him think that? He can't be sure now.
"Akira-kun," he says.
He longs to hear Akira-kun whisper back dreamily, Seiji-chan... If he does, Ogata will shower him with kisses.
Akira's eye closes and he takes a long breath, then lets it out slowly. Ogata can almost feel him thinking.
His eye opens again. "Thank you. I'm glad I picked you to be the first."
Something about Akira-kun's words sting him. He still feels too close to pull away, though. He strokes glossy black hair and says nothing, though inside he is thinking, and who will be second?
He knows with sudden surety who will be, if not second, somewhere in Akira-kun's future. Besides, it isn't as if an affair or a relationship between Ogata and Akira can exist, anyway. Ogata tries to imagine the reaction of Touya Kouyo to the news and decides ritual suicide wouldn't be enough to redeem them. A single tryst is easy enough to hide. An ongoing thing... not so easily.
But he has to know. In Go terms, he's already made himself vulnerable by going so deep, that now is the time to commit to his strategy. "Are you thinking, just the once, then?"
Akira's eye closes again. "I... I know this will shock you, but, I had not thought beyond about five minutes ago. Now, I don't know."
"Don't know what?" Ogata presses.
Akira-kun rolls onto his back and looks up at him. "Kiss me," he says, holding out his arms. "I'll figure the rest out later."
Ogata nearly leaps onto him, with a mind to devour him again, but something makes him pause and brush his lips gently over Akira's, his tongue darting out to taste him once more and his breath teasing him until Akira is the one who surges up, hungry again.
When he falls back, hair spread around his head like a fan he seems to have come to some conclusion. Ogata awaits the pronouncement of his Fate.
"There's more there," Akira says, a small frown on his face as if Ogata is a particularly interesting yet difficult puzzle. "I'm not done. There's more."
The repetition shouldn't make what he means any clearer, yet it does. Ogata finds his heart thumping painfully against his chest. Akira is not done with him as a lover. There's more to explore together. "There are more firsts, too," he says, voice low.
"Good." Akira lets out a long sigh. "I'm sleepy. Can we sleep here?"
Ogata nods. Music will start to play softly when their time is up. He urges Akira-kun under the covers, throws away the condom, ignores the fact that they are both less then clean, but well, that's half the advantage of a love hotel anyway--someone else cleans up. Akira-kun curls up next to him, skin to skin.
Maybe, Ogata thinks as he buries his nose in Akira's hair, maybe by the time Akira-kun is done with me, I'll be ready to be done with him. It doesn't seem likely, but right at this moment he is far too happy for pessimism. He has lost his mind and his heart and it feels wonderful.
Author: Ravenna C. Tan
Fandom: Hikaru no Go
Pairing: Ogata/Akira
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 5700
Disclaimer: Non-commercial fanfic.
Summary: Ogata Seiji 10-dan is fairly sure he loses his mind when he sees Touya Akira kissing another boy in a public place. Insanity would be a good excuse for why he can't figure out who is seducing whom, Akira-kun or himself.
Warnings: Somewhat cross-gen. Ogata is probably around 30, Touya is 17-18.
All the Fault of:
painless_j who has been jonesing for some Ogata-centric smut! Here you go, my dear, I finished it sooner than I thought I would! I still haven't succeeded in getting all three of them in bed together, but I will eventually...A/N: I posted an "intro" to Hikaru no Go for those who want to read my Hikago fics without watching or reading the whole 75 episode series, on LJ and IJ. The main thing you need to know here is just Ogata has been a student of Akira's father for many years (all Akira's life, in fact). So he's watched him grow up. I'm assuming Ogata was 12 or 13 when Akira was born. Akira has been living mostly unsupervised since he was 15 since his parents are traveling most of the year now in China and Korea.
Two bits of relevant video to watch before this one, relating to Ogata and Touya:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XUGDuMjPPXA From 4:40 to 7:48
Touya chases Ogata down the day after Ogata watched a game Touya is verrry interested in. Touya is like 13 in this clip.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RGX_7L2ALIo From 2:44 to 4:22
Touya and Ogata playing each other for a title, Touya is a few months shy of 16 here.
Ogata's Loss
by Ravenna C. Tan
The day Ogata Seiji decides he's lost his grip on reality is the day he finds out that Touya Akira not only isn't a virgin, he's been experimenting with boys.
This revelation comes by pure chance, but Ogata is not one to ignore what fortune hands him. He pulls Akira-kun out of the other boy's arms by the scruff of the neck, as if he is a naughty puppy, rooting around in the rubbish and making a mess. Which is pretty much what he says, after stuffing Akira into the passenger seat of his car and driving off, the scent of burned rubber reflecting how scorched he feels inside.
"That is not an appropriate way to conduct yourself," he says, gritting his teeth too hard to contemplate smoking a cigarette, and besides, Akira-kun doesn't like it when he smokes in the car. Although he reminds himself that why he should care about what Akira-kun likes or dislikes is moot, anyway.
Akira-kun, for his part, looks subdued, perhaps a little sullen, but not openly defiant.
"With your father away so much, I know it must be difficult," he continues, although even he is questioning the sincerity of that statement. When has Akira-kun ever needed the slightest correction to his manners, the smallest lesson in how to conduct himself? It's like he popped out of the womb the crown prince of the Go world. "You know that your parents depend on me and Ashiwara to keep an eye on you."
That is not entirely true either. They depend on Akira-kun to take care of himself, and up until now, Ogata thought their trust entirely well-founded.
When Akira-kun finally speaks, it is to say "I'm sorry to have disappointed you," with his face turned toward the passenger side window, as if the side of the road is fascinating to him.
Ogata merely grunts at this, his ire vented as much as he dares to the boy himself.
"I'm nearly eighteen," Akira-kun goes on, as if this is relevant somehow. "And it's not as if I was at a Go event."
Dearest Seiji. He makes a disgusted noise. It was pure chance that he caught sight of Akira-kun walking with someone he didn't know in the Shibuya 109 mall. He immediately suspected the guy of being a pervert, only to follow them and have his entire world turned upside down when it was very clearly and obviously Akira who made the first move.
"You're too aggressive," Ogata barks. "Are these your true colors? Do you know what the Korean delegation said to me in the observation room during the North Star Cup? 'Oh, Touya Akira is so much more polite than we expected after seeing how he plays Go.'"
He hits the brakes, pulling the car to a sudden stop on the side of the road. "Have I been wrong about you all these years?"
Now Akira-kun looks up, slightly shocked. "What are you talking about?"
"Is the Touya Akira who grew up before my very eyes just an illusion?"
Poor Akira-kun, so young and temperamental. "What do you mean? Just because I kissed a boy?"
"In public," Seiji-chan grinds out.
"We were not in public. We were quite well hidden from public view, but not from spies, apparently." Akira-kun's voice is bitter. "And seriously, Ogata-san, you can't possibly think that the only thing I do all day every day is play Go?"
"Your father..."
"Must have had sex at least once in his life," Akira-kun snaps, "or I wouldn't exist. And you're one to talk. Do you think I don't know about the girl with the place near Shinjuku? Ogata-san..."
But he is growling now, as this confrontation spirals more and more out of control. "Get out of the car!" he barks.
"Oga--"
"Get out!"
Akira-kun just shakes his head. He's already pulling his cell phone from his pocket as he opens the door. Poor Seiji-chan pulls away almost before the door is shut, enraged at the thought that Akira-kun is just going to call that pervert and probably pick up where they left off.
He finds himself at that very girl's apartment the next day. She scolds him for seeming indifferent, for not paying enough attention to her, for spending too much time away and then when he is in Tokyo for spending too much time alone. He's not even entirely happy to be with her while he's fucking her, though the actual orgasm is good, very good, as are the few minutes afterward where everything seems relaxed and calm and quiet.
He reaches to stroke her hair, finds its texture and bottle-lightened color annoying, and then she ruins it entirely by talking. As he's dressing hurriedly to leave and she's vowing to call him about this, that, and the other, he resolves what to do. He throws his cell phone into the trash can outside her building and goes to buy a new one, only later realizing that he does not have Akira-kun's number memorized--it was in speed dial in the phone he's thrown away.
But who cares, since he won't be calling Akira-kun anyway.
-*-
Akira-kun for his part finds the entire thing puzzling. This whole business about kissing people in general is highly puzzling to begin with, which is half what he finds interesting about it. The urge to explore has been there for a while, but he was so busy for the longest time... and, truthfully, he's just as busy now, if not moreso now that he's won the Kisei title, but it's not like he needs to make time for a girlfriend or a courtship. Not to kiss boys, anyway, which is one of the major advantages to boys over girls, honestly. A girl, Akira-kun has learned, will want to spend two hours going bowling, or walking in the park and eating a meal, or seeing a movie together, before she'll kiss him -- or at the very least she'll expect for appearance's sake to do so. Whereas boys couldn't care less about appearances. Much simpler. Also, Akira-kun is a bit intimidated by the female anatomy and has resolved not to learn about it until he actually needs to, and to stick with boys for fun.
He thinks he's pretty much figured out boys now, though, at least the kind who will kiss him when he wants, and who will help him get off if he returns the favor--usually with mutual handjobs in a public restroom. He rides the train back home after one such tryst, staring at the window without really seeing the things going by outside as he tries to work through this puzzle that is Ogata Seiji.
Ogata-san. They've known each other all of Akira-kun's life, as dear Seiji had been Touya Kouyo's student from before he was Akira's age. Akira-kun tries to imagine what Ogata-kun must have been like as a hormone-soaked teenager and finds it impossible to picture him as anything but the way he is now, overly intense except when drunk, extremely serious about Go, and yet there is the flashy sportscar, the designer suits, these sort of trappings that say "playboy."
Akira-kun realizes he has never understood these things but that he never needed to before. And are they part of the key to understanding why Ogata-san is so very upset right now?
He thinks back to their Jyudan match, to the comments Ogata-san made to reporters after winning by the skin of his teeth. "You are below me." A gap of skill was demonstrated that day, according to Ogata-san. Whereas from Akira-kun's point of view, just how small that gap was is what his opponent refused to admit.
It was the first time his senpai had failed to pat him on the head.
Hm. And yet, he thinks, maybe this isn't about Go. But with Ogata-san, everything is about Go.
Or is it? After all, isn't that exactly what shocked him so much, learning that for Akira-kun everything was not about Go? The girl who lives near Shinjuku...
Akira-kun's thoughts suddenly tumble in another direction, as if he sees the board from a new angle. It's not about Go, except that it is about Ogata-san and Akira-kun. Now that he sees a new way to attack the problem, he wants to try it out right away. He wants to place his stone into the formation and see if it crumbles. But he has no cell phone reception in the train, and although he hurries above ground at the next station, his call goes straight to voice mail. He hangs up without leaving a message.
A week later the mailbox is telling him it's full, which is interesting since Akira-kun never leaves a message, so someone else must be filling it up. Akira-kun needs a new plan of attack.
-*-
Dear, dear, dear Seiji. He's so rattled about Akira-kun that he loses a preliminary round game in the Meijin tournament, an embarrassing misstep. A few days after the loss he leaves the Go Institute and finds himself staring into a tank of beautiful dwarf gourami, contemplating buying a pair to introduce to his tank at home, but mostly just wanting to watch them. The flow of the colorful fish is the opposite of the black and white, two-dimensional gridded world of Go.
"I thought you might be here."
His blood runs cold at the rasp of that young voice behind him.
"That is, I was hoping I'd find you here, eventually."
He turns to see the demon-child himself standing there. Admittedly, not much of a child any more--they are pretty much of a height now, and he can see that the sweater Akira-kun is wearing is a few inches too short for his arms. The son may end up taller than his father. Ogata grits his teeth. Akira-kun was simply not supposed to grow up, or at least not without permission.
"You aren't answering your phone," Akira-kun persists.
"I lost it," Ogata grunts.
They stare at each other for immeasurable time. Akira-kun seems to be waiting for something. Ogata stares into those fathomless eyes and surrenders to the inevitable move: "Do you need a ride somewhere? Would you like to get something to eat?"
Akira-kun merely nods, and his silence is unnerving.
Ogata drives them to a restaurant he knows--well, to an underground garage nearby it anyway, as one must put the car somewhere. He finds himself not wholly surprised that Akira-kun seems in no rush to open the door.
Akira-kun's hand is on his sleeve, in fact. "I don't want to presume."
"But you are anyway," Ogata says, voice low and tired, betraying not a hint of the painful excitement squeezing his heart right now. It's rather like the heat of a title match, the oppressively charged atmosphere of the Room of Profound Darkness. He looks sidelong at Akira-kun.
"I am sure you will say no if you do not wish to grant my request," Akira-kun says, manners impeccable as always.
He cannot help but answer imperiously. "Something you felt compelled to track me down in person to ask? Just what is this request?"
"Kiss me," Akira-kun says, and the bottom drops out of dear Seiji's world; he is spinning in free-fall, vertigo threatening to make up into down and east into west.
Best to just do as he asks, then, and Ogata anchors himself in the present by pulling Akira-kun to him roughly, his hands yanking the collar of his shirt and nearly cutting his own lip on Akira's teeth. The kiss is pure pleasure, though, the taste of Akira eerily familiar, as if this has happened before, even though it hasn't, unless one counts the hundreds, maybe thousands, of times he has imagined it.
When he lets Akira-kun go, the poor boy's lower lip is bruised, his pants are visibly too tight, and he has that glazed look in his eye that says he's forgotten entirely where he is.
But not who he's with. "Ogata-san..."
"Kiss me in return," Ogata demands.
Akira-kun nods, then crawls tentatively toward him, shifting across the seats of the car, until he has his knees folded under him and his hands cradling his senpai's face. Those ever-serious eyes look into Ogata's for a long moment before they close as he brushes his mouth across parted lips.
Ogata thinks his head might explode. Akira-kun brushes past again, then presses a bit more firmly, the tip of his tongue darting into Ogata's mouth, Akira-kun is all tightly trammeled desire, as utterly intoxicating and potent as a sake and plum wine martini. "You're trying so hard to get it right," Ogata chides.
Akira-kun jerks back, stung. "You didn't like it?"
"Are you going to be like this the whole time? If I let you make love to me, will it be like this?"
"Like what?"
"Like you're ballroom dancing and trying not to make a misstep. If I want that, I can pay for it."
Akira-kun's confidence falters. "But... I mean..." Then seems to resolve a piece of the puzzle. "Well, maybe it's you should make love to me then. And show me how it's done."
Ogata seizes him by the back of the collar, pulling him close again into another crushing, bruising kiss. "I will shatter you like a window in a typhoon if you are too stiff, too rigid, you know. You must bend to me, Akira-kun."
Akira-kin just nods, then squeaks, "Here?"
Ogata looks around the inside of the car as if seriously considering it. Then he unlocks the doors. "Hm, no. Come on."
-*-
Look at Akira-kun trailing slightly behind his older mentor, not quite sure where they are going. At first he thinks Ogata-san has decided to calm down, cool off, and have something to eat or drink first. Wasn't that the pretense, after all? They were going somewhere to eat?
Then he sees a Go Salon up ahead and that makes him wonder too, but they go right past that, and then into the quiet lobby of what looks like a very expensive office building. The reception desk is built into the wall, the glass entirely frosted so no one can be seen, only a small drawer underneath it to pass money through. Paying for the parking? Akira-kun guesses. But no, Ogata-san puts some money in the drawer as it extends toward him. It retracts into the wall, then extends again, a small plastic card the only thing visible. Akira has only the vague sense of a person on the other side of the glass.
Ogata-san takes the card and presses the button for the elevator. When it comes he gets in, waits for Akira-kun to follow, swipes the card through the reader there and presses a button. They rise to the tenth floor, where the card key admits them to a room so white Akira-kun nearly shields his eyes. They leave their shoes by the door and the white carpet is so thick it feels like walking on moss. Ogata-san sheds his jacket, folding it carefully over a chair, then stands, legs slightly spread, by the large bed. He unbuttons his vest, and is fiddling with his cufflinks when Akira-kun realizes he's just standing there staring at Ogata.
"I, um..."
"This was your idea, Akira-kun," Ogata-san points out. "Wasn't it?"
"Well, yes," Akira-kun agrees. "I'm just... not sure what to do from this point forward."
Ogata-san stops moving other than to set his glasses aside. "Come undress me, then. There's no reason to rush."
Akira-kun takes a breath, correctly divining that this is a test of some kind. Testing his resolve, perhaps. That's what he thinks when he has finished with Ogata-san's upper body and is undoing his belt and unzipping his fly. The thing he feels, then sees, so long and hard it has pushed up through the waistband of his underwear, makes him swallow and quaver just a bit. Your typical Japanese man is not hugely endowed, but then your typical Japanese man isn't blond either.
He pulls the pants down anyway, folds them with a neat crease over the jacket, and then looks at the man in front of him. His cock is a proud, red, artful curve away from his body, even the curls around it seeming reddish, and Akira-kun pets his balls the way one would an imposing dog.
"You have a very determined look in your eye," Ogata-san says. He climbs onto the bed, leaving Akira-kun standing there. He props himself up on pillows, one hand idly moving his foreskin up and down his shaft. "Your turn to undress. Go on."
Akira-kun is mindful of the ballroom dance comment, but he can't just toss his clothes aside and leap onto the bed like some little whore in a shota manga. He takes off his clothes methodically, one piece at a time, and folds each one and makes a neat stack on the seat of the chair. That's who he is, and this tryst isn't going to change that.
When he looks up at Ogata-san, it's clear that he has found this little performance every bit as arousing as some fake slutty strip tease--maybe moreso. Akira-kun climbs onto the bed, then sits back on his heels, formal-style, his own prick bobbing in his lap. "I want this to go well," he says. "As I said before, I think maybe you should lead this dance."
-*-
Seiji-chan is entranced by the young man climbing onto the bed. Maybe Akira-kun growing up wasn't so bad after all. He nearly laughs as the dear boy, serious, earnest, and perfectionist as always, abdicates his responsibility for the quality of what is to follow. Ogata also decides he must rethink his initial conclusion about the state of Akira-kun's virginity.
He must also recalibrate all his fantasies in his head. Akira-kun, grown as he now is, is far more beautiful than imagined, and Ogata makes a resolution whether this goes well or badly that he will take Akira-shopping to replace all the hideous things the boy's mother has foisted on him over the years.
Yes, he is thinking ahead, but that is the way Ogata nearly always thinks. He looks ahead. And he knows Akira-kun does, too. Akira-kun is goal oriented.
"The goal here, if we may be claiming there is a single goal to be defined," he says quietly, "is to get my cock into you, for you to come while it's there, and for me to come shortly after that, if not at the same time, which might happen, but is hardly necessary."
Akira-kun just says "Hai" and nods, as if his senpai has just explained a straightforward tsumego puzzle.
"You could try kissing me again," Ogata suggests. "You might be less stiff now that we're out of the car."
"Hai."
Akira-kun crawls over him, lying atop the length of him as he brings their mouths together. His cock nestles into the curve of Ogata's hip, and Ogata's cock presses against his belly. This kiss ends up necessarily more sloppy as Ogata's hands clamp on to Akira-kun's backside, pulling him against him, knocking their noses together.
Akira-kun loses himself in the kissing and rutting for a while, then suddenly finds himself struggling to get away, to stop the inevitable flood of come from his prick, squirting hot and sudden between their bellies as he cries out, distressed, even as Ogata holds him even tighter against him.
"It's all right," Ogata croons. "You can come. You'll be ready again in no time, I'm sure." In fact he's been saying that for a few minutes, but words had ceased reaching Akira-kun for a while there.
"But now we're all..." Akira-kun's blush is so deep it makes his face even redder than Ogata's cock.
"Get a towel from the bathroom and clean us up." Ogata revises his estimate of Akira-kun's experience level downward again. Or maybe getting dirty and raunchy was okay for him with random boys, but not now? Ogata does not ask.
-*-
Akira-kun does as suggested, still breathless from the orgasm and from all the kissing, retrieving a small towel and wiping himself with it. When he returns to the bed, Ogata has a few brightly colored things on the white white bed with him, a few packets of condoms and two small tubes of lubricant. Akira-kun's throat goes dry with anticipation, the tubes making his partner's earlier words somehow sink in.
He's really going to do this. Finally do this.
He uses the towel to wipe off the semen he's left smeared to Ogata's skin, and then follows Ogata's gestures to lie on his back.
"For someone who's just come, you're rather tense," he points out, as he tears the tip off one of the tubes of lube and slicks his fingers with it. "This is supposed to be fun and enjoyable."
"I'm sorry," Akira-kun says. "I'm just nervous."
Ogata decides perhaps it's time to make a few things clear. He rubs a warm hand over Akira-kun's clean belly, then teases near his cock without touching it. Akira-kun's eyes mist over a bit as he lets his fingertips just barely brush the soft shaft, which is already hardening again. "You may feel we are playing a game, but there is no winner or loser here," he says, voice low. "There is also no getting it right or getting it wrong, unless one of us isn't enjoying ourselves."
"I'm sor--"
"No apologizing! If you're not enjoying yourself, I need to work a little harder." He rubs his slick fingers between Akira-kun's asscheeks, making no attempt to penetrate, purely teasing. He is gratified to feel Akira-kun's hips rock toward the touch rather than away from it. He teases one small nipple between his lips and enjoys the sigh that elicits.
"How did you know I would like that?" Akira-kun asks breathlessly, when Ogata has relinquished his hold on the nub and is now just running a finger over it lightly.
"A good guess," Ogata says. "I like it, so thought maybe you would, too."
"Oh." Akira-kun sees the logic in this. After all, its one of the reasons he's stuck to boys himself. "And do you like..." The pause is just long enough for Akira-kun's cheeks to flush again. "Being penetrated?"
"Not especially," Ogata says dryly, but he curves the tip of his finger so that it just barely breaches the tight hole. "I suppose we shall find out if you do?"
"H-hai..." Akira tries to relax--that's what he's always heard you should do--but when Ogata slips a slick finger into him he can't help it when his entire body tenses. Not with pain or even fear, but with an intensity of lust he has previously only experienced while dreaming.
Ogata crooks his finger, stroking Akira-kun on the inside and watching his reaction carefully. It would appear that motion sets off a ripple of pleasure and Akira-kun groans.
It is a hungry sound.
"I'm adding a second finger," Ogata says, "but I won't try it with my cock until you ask."
Akira-kun blinks and looks up at the perfectly white ceiling. Ask? He has no idea how to tell if he's ready, so he just waits for a while, until the fingers drilling into him seem to move freely and both tubes of lube are emptied. And then he tries to think of the appropriate words to say. I want you? He supposes there is a certain kind of passion in supplication, he's just not sure he can bring himself to actually beg.
And he didn't say beg, he said ask.
Akira-kun decides to go for the practical. "When I dream of it, I'm usually on all fours. Can we do it that way?"
"If you like. Why don't you start lying flat on the bed, though, just shift this pillow under your hips."
Akira-kun moves into position, but he asks "Why?"
"The penetration will be somewhat shallower this way. Once you're used to it, if you want, I can lift you up to all fours."
"Ah." He wants to ask, but he has a suspicion that even the question is a foolish one, and asking it might cause him to embarrass himself so badly he won't be able to look Ogata-san in the eye again. He wants to ask how big Ogata-san really is, and whether that's going to make a difference.
"I'm going to put just the tip in, Akira-kun," Ogata-san says, and Akira twists his head to look back and sees Ogata's hand is wrapped around his condom-covered cock so only an inch of it, not even the whole head, protrudes from his fist. He pushes the head of his cock between Akira-kun's cheeks, pressing rhythmically, until at last he pushes in, then pulls out quickly, again and again, until Akira actually tries to push back into him. He lets more of it penetrate on each thrust until he finally lets go his cock and lets it slide all the way in, his balls coming to rest against Akira's ass.
Akira has clawed the white bedcovers into a small mountain range, yet feels a sense of triumph. That feeling only grows as Ogata begins to fuck, pulling back and thrusting forward, and making ripples of pleasure cascade all through Akira-kun's body.
And dear Seiji, though he has longed for this moment of consummation for more years than is seemly to recall, is thrown into a trance of lust so deep, he barely feels his own body other than his cock. Everything is Akira, as his hands skate along Akira's damp ribs, find the curve of his hips, the taste of his sweat at the base of his neck, the scent of him. He loses his sense of himself utterly as he is swallowed by the presence of the young lover he adores, quite suddenly ready, beyond any rational thought, to pledge himself, to make ridiculous and sentimental pronouncements, to promise to go to whatever lengths to please him...
He has lost his mind. But it feels so damn good, he doesn't care.
Akira-kun for his part feels overwhelmed, with sensation, with the feeling of the bedcovers under him, with Ogata-san's weight atop him, with the heat of Ogata's breath and the relentless plunging of his cock into Akira's body. It is everything he hoped sex would be. He comes with a shudder, biting down on the urge to cry out, and it is not like any other orgasm he has had, humping his futon at home or spilling into the fingers of some boy in a restroom. Ogata's cock seems to push it out of him from within, and everything goes white.
When Ogata pulls at his hips, getting him to all fours, he cannot lift his head. Instead he just lifts his ass, in what must surely look like a wanton presentation, and he cries out in surprise as Ogata's next thrust is deeper than before. Ogata barely slows his pace, pushing again and again.
As dear Seiji comes close to his own climax, he reaches under Akira-kun, only to find the parts there sticky and soft. "Ah," he says in understanding, remembering the hair trigger he once had on his own cock. Perhaps he can teach Akira-kun to last a bit longer...
He shakes his head, trying to reassert rational thinking, but that will not happen until adequate blood flow is restored to his head. All his blood is in his cock, and he fucks Akira-kun hard in his rush to finish, to return to normal. He bellows as he comes, crushing Akira once more, this time with his arms around his ribcage as he bears him flat to the bed once more and finishes in him with a last flurry of thrusts.
They lie there, panting, until Akira-kun makes a sound like he is trying to speak. Thinking perhaps he might be trying to say that Ogata is too heavy, Ogata pulls out and rolls to the side. He's going soft but the condom stays on the bulb of his head, still full of jism.
Now they lie panting, but not touching, until Akira puts a hand on Ogata's shoulder. Ogata turns to look at him. He sees one eye watching him from under strands of black hair hanging like seaweed.
He turns toward Akira, brushes the hair back from his face, lock by lock, until he is looking at what surely is the absolutely most beautiful face he has ever seen. Did he always think that? Or was it the sex that makes him think that? He can't be sure now.
"Akira-kun," he says.
He longs to hear Akira-kun whisper back dreamily, Seiji-chan... If he does, Ogata will shower him with kisses.
Akira's eye closes and he takes a long breath, then lets it out slowly. Ogata can almost feel him thinking.
His eye opens again. "Thank you. I'm glad I picked you to be the first."
Something about Akira-kun's words sting him. He still feels too close to pull away, though. He strokes glossy black hair and says nothing, though inside he is thinking, and who will be second?
He knows with sudden surety who will be, if not second, somewhere in Akira-kun's future. Besides, it isn't as if an affair or a relationship between Ogata and Akira can exist, anyway. Ogata tries to imagine the reaction of Touya Kouyo to the news and decides ritual suicide wouldn't be enough to redeem them. A single tryst is easy enough to hide. An ongoing thing... not so easily.
But he has to know. In Go terms, he's already made himself vulnerable by going so deep, that now is the time to commit to his strategy. "Are you thinking, just the once, then?"
Akira's eye closes again. "I... I know this will shock you, but, I had not thought beyond about five minutes ago. Now, I don't know."
"Don't know what?" Ogata presses.
Akira-kun rolls onto his back and looks up at him. "Kiss me," he says, holding out his arms. "I'll figure the rest out later."
Ogata nearly leaps onto him, with a mind to devour him again, but something makes him pause and brush his lips gently over Akira's, his tongue darting out to taste him once more and his breath teasing him until Akira is the one who surges up, hungry again.
When he falls back, hair spread around his head like a fan he seems to have come to some conclusion. Ogata awaits the pronouncement of his Fate.
"There's more there," Akira says, a small frown on his face as if Ogata is a particularly interesting yet difficult puzzle. "I'm not done. There's more."
The repetition shouldn't make what he means any clearer, yet it does. Ogata finds his heart thumping painfully against his chest. Akira is not done with him as a lover. There's more to explore together. "There are more firsts, too," he says, voice low.
"Good." Akira lets out a long sigh. "I'm sleepy. Can we sleep here?"
Ogata nods. Music will start to play softly when their time is up. He urges Akira-kun under the covers, throws away the condom, ignores the fact that they are both less then clean, but well, that's half the advantage of a love hotel anyway--someone else cleans up. Akira-kun curls up next to him, skin to skin.
Maybe, Ogata thinks as he buries his nose in Akira's hair, maybe by the time Akira-kun is done with me, I'll be ready to be done with him. It doesn't seem likely, but right at this moment he is far too happy for pessimism. He has lost his mind and his heart and it feels wonderful.
