Chapter 15

"Game, Shishido-Ohtori pair! Five games to four - change court!"

Panting, Ohtori forced himself to walk towards the bench rather than staggering like his body wanted to. The three-minute break after odd-numbered games had never seemed so short before. "The three-set matches are going to kill me," he gasped to his partner as he reached for the water bottle the older boy was holding out towards him.

Their fingers brushed, and despite his exhaustion Ohtori felt his stomach tighten at the contact. He knew Shishido felt it too, because their eyes met for one electric moment before they both looked away. They were usually more careful than this about avoiding contact, but they were both tired and running mostly on adrenalin.

"You're both doing well, despite not being used to the extra sets," Atobe informed them both. Their former captain had volunteered to play bench coach for them, since they didn't have a real coach and he'd been planning to attend the match anyway. "You only need to take one more game. They're as tired as you are."

Glancing across the court to where their opponents were discussing strategy with their own coach, Ohtori doubted it. They were breathing hard and sweating, yes, but not as utterly exhausted as Shishido and Ohtori were. They were older, seventeen and eighteen, and they'd been playing in three set match tournaments for years already.

For Shishido and Ohtori, it was their first tournament match since the Nationals almost a year ago, and the first time they'd played three sets outside of a practice. They'd debated long and hard and finally chosen to enter the under-18 category in the first citywide tournament, rather than the under-16. It would be far more challenging, but the exposure and the practice would be good for them.

And, as Atobe had pointed out, if they didn't do as well here as they hoped, they could always drop back down to the under-16 category in the next tournament. Better to set their goal high and adjust downwards if necessary than to wonder if they could have done better.

Of course, Ohtori reflected wryly, they wouldn't be having half as much trouble against almost any other set of opponents. Despite their National level ranking in the junior high circuit, he and Shishido were unknowns in these circles and therefore unseeded in this tournament. It was just their bad luck that they'd been pitted against one of the top two seeds in their very first match. These two were expected to at least make it to the finals, if not win the tournament. The fact that Shishido and Ohtori, relative unknowns, had already won one set and were up one game in their third set was drawing a great deal of attention to them.

They'd taken the first set because their opponents had been stupid enough to dismiss them as not being much of a challenge in the beginning. By the time they'd realized their error, Shishido and Ohtori were too far ahead in that set for them to recover.

The second set had gone to the favourites, but Shishido and Ohtori had made them work for it. Thanks mainly to the Scud Serve and Ohtori's vicious volleys, they'd kept all their service games and forced it to a tiebreak round.

And now they were ahead by one game, though unfortunately it was their opponents' turn to serve next. If they were going to take this game, it would be up to Shishido and his speed. These two were far too experienced to allow themselves to be distracted from paying attention to Ohtori, so there would be no easy points scored that way.

"Time's almost up," Atobe told them, taking the now empty water bottles they handed back to him. "Get out there and make Hyoutei proud. You can take this game."

"We can do it," Ohtori agreed, looking from him to Shishido. His partner looked back at him, the familiar fierce light of unshakeable determination in his eyes. Ohtori had seen that look many times, both from his own side of the court and from across the net, but it never failed to rally his own flagging spirits. If Shishido could keep going and not give up, so could he, damn it.

Impulsively he offered his hand in a high five, their new pre-game traditional gesture. It had been hours since the start of the match, but somehow it felt right to do it now, like a reaffirmation of their dedication.

To his gratification Shishido didn't even hesitate, clasping his hand in tennis-calloused fingers and holding tight. He squeezed back, letting the inevitable electric tension between them energize him rather than pulling away from it.

"Let's end this," Shishido growled, his eyes truly alight. With one last squeeze he released Ohtori's hand and turned, striding towards his place at the front of the net.

They hadn't discussed strategy, which was ostensibly what the change court break was supposed to be for; in truth, they didn't need to. Communication between them was at an all time high, and without even looking to check where Shishido had positioned himself Ohtori moved to the center of the baseline. Sure enough when he glanced towards the net he found Shishido directly in front of him, crouched low and close to the net. Australian formation. They'd already used it to good effect in several games of this set. If they could keep their energy and will high, they might be able to use it to win just one more game.

Ohtori fixed his eyes on the shorter of their two opponents, who was now at the baseline preparing to serve. His serve wasn't as fast or heavy as Ohtori's Scud Serve, but it was unpredictable and tended to be too deep for Shishido to catch it, close as he was to the net. That meant it was Ohtori's responsibility to catch and return it to start the volley, and he was determined not to drop the ball.

The sound of the serve echoed over the court; the audience had fallen silent as they watched. This could be the last game of the match - if it was it would be an unprecedented defeat for the older pair.

From somewhere Ohtori dredged up reserves of speed and stamina he hadn't known he possessed. He returned the ball in a low, hard shot, aiming right back at the opposite baseline. And the rally began, as fast and furious as any that had yet been played that day. He and Shishido were determined to take the game and prove themselves once and for all, but their opponents were equally determined not to lose their favoured standing in the tournament.

Love-fifteen. Fifteen-all. Fifteen-thirty. Ohtori could hardly see for the sweat stinging his eyes, and all his air seemed knotted up into the stitch just under his ribs. He made no effort to ease the pain or wipe the sweat away; any momentary lapse could mean their defeat.

Fifteen-forty. Game point. Ohtori could see the tension in the set of Shishido's shoulders, feel the same ache in his own. They were beyond exhausted now, and starting to make mistakes. Their opponents were more than happy to take advantage of their errors; they nearly lost the point when Shishido overextended himself and missed the ball, but Ohtori recovered it and kept the rally alive.

On the next return Ohtori saw an opening and took it, exerting himself to the utmost to try to get into position. Shishido heard his running steps and held back even though he could have returned the ball, trusting that Ohtori had seen some opportunity the older boy had missed.

Lunging forward, his arm extended as far as he could reach, Ohtori cursed when he realized he was still going to be a bare inch short of the sweet spot on impact. He swung anyway, because if he didn't the ball would go out and they'd lose the point.

To his amazement it stayed true, following exactly the course he'd intended it to. The baseline player was just a touch too far onto the same side of the court as his partner, with his momentum going in the wrong direction, leaving the far corner open. The ball streaked towards it even as the two older players swore and scrambled after it, but Ohtori could tell they weren't going to be in time.

He'd overextended himself too far to recover, and he hit the surface of the court with a painful impact that covered the sound of the ref's call. There was a collective gasp and stunned moans mixed with ragged cheers from the crowd, but he couldn't tell if that meant the ball had gone in or out. Distantly he was aware that he'd lost some skin on his knee and was going to have a nasty bruise on his shoulder tomorrow, but at the moment he couldn't feel the pain.

Wildly he sought Shishido's eyes, knowing the look on his partner's face would tell him better than the crowd's reaction what the result of his shot had been. The older boy was watching the far side of the court, but when he turned towards Ohtori the look in his eyes was frustration and weariness, not triumph. Ohtori's heart sank.

"It was out?" he asked, knowing the answer even as he spoke the words.

"Just barely," Shishido sighed, offering him a hand up. Ohtori took it and let the older boy pull him to his feet, though he winced when he put weight on his knee.

Sharp-eyed as ever, Shishido didn't miss the small flinch. "Are you hurt?" he demanded, scowling up at Ohtori. "How bad is it? Do we need a time out?"

"No, it's fine," Ohtori said, testing it gingerly. "I just skinned it, I think." It might well turn out to be wrenched, but with all the adrenalin in his system he couldn't really feel any pain from it. "I can keep going. We just need one more point."

Shishido nodded and squeezed his fingers, and Ohtori flushed as he realized they hadn't released their clasped hands after Shishido had helped him up. "One more point," the older boy echoed, letting go at last. "C'mon, Choutarou. Let's show them what we're really made of. Again!"

'Again!' The echo of that word would haunt Ohtori's nightmares for years to come, he sometimes thought. 'Again!' was what Shishido had shouted each time the Scud Serve had knocked him flat, each time he scrambled back to his feet even as Ohtori begged him to stop for the night. 'Again!' was what had made Shishido the first person ever to return to the Hyoutei Regulars after being dropped. 'Again!' was what had driven Ohtori to keep serving long into the night, until finally he truly mastered the Scud Serve as the first rays of dawn broke the horizon.

And 'Again!' was, by all that was holy, going to win them this game. Taking a deep breath to center himself, Ohtori nodded and returned to his place at the baseline. Thirty-forty. Still game point. If they took this point, they won. If they lost it... the possibility of winning was still there, but he knew they were both too tired to continue much longer. What was more, their opponents knew it as well. It all came down to this point.

Locking eyes across the net with the boy about to serve, Ohtori mentally invited him to bring it on. He and Shishido had been through too much to give up now, damn it!

Fast and implacable, the serve tore across the net. Shishido was already there, dashing to meet it and returning it in a hard shot back past the service line. It was returned immediately, too far to the other side for Shishido to get to it. Not too far for Ohtori to catch it.

It was a short ball, despite being fast. Ohtori had to run forward to meet it before it could bounce twice. He was exhausted enough to be making rookie mistakes, and reaching short balls from the baseline had always been a weakness of his. He opened the face of his racquet too much, turning it up so that the ball bounced high off it instead of shooting straight back over the net. It was a lob that would fall just on the other side of the net.

Against another set of opponents it might even have been a good move. But the player now at the net was a smash specialist, and he'd already demonstrated a couple of signature moves that had won them the second set. Ohtori and Shishido hadn't yet found a way to seal his Spin Smash. The same Spin Smash Ohtori could already see him winding up for as he leapt into the air after the ball.

Mentally castigating himself for the stupid mistake, Ohtori backpedaled frantically. The Spin Smash always landed somewhere back at the baseline, but it went off in an unpredictable direction after that. It had to be caught and returned before it landed - and Ohtori was too far towards the net to get back in time.

He tried anyway, but his exhausted body finally betrayed him. His foot caught on his other ankle and he went town in a tangle of limbs and racquet, striking the same knee much harder on the court. He bit down on a pained cry; this time he was sure it was wrenched. He could have dealt with that, though, if only he'd gotten to the ball in time.

Sprawled over the court, he turned his head to follow the path of the smash, expecting to see it impact and go out to lose them the point. Instead, to his utter shock, there was a blur of motion and suddenly a racquet intersected the ball on its path of descent. Shishido shouted incoherently as he put everything he had into an impossible two-handed return. Ohtori couldn't help but stare in disbelief. Surely even Shishido couldn't have gotten back that quickly. He must have known that Ohtori would make that mistake and started running back before Ohtori even connected with the ball.

For a horrible moment Ohtori thought the ball was too low, that it was going to smack into their side of the net. It struck the top of the net, wobbled...

And went over, dropping almost straight down to hit the court on the other side. Neither of their opponents was able to reach the net before the ball fell and started to roll, though both of them dove for it and they nearly smashed into each other in the attempt.

Ohtori stared, not even making any attempt to get to his feet. The words the ref called didn't make any sense to his exhausted brain, nor did the cheering and yelling of the crowd. He was still trying to force his brain to accept what he was seeing.

"Choutarou!" Shishido's voice, practically in his ear, snapped him back to some semblance of reality. He jerked his gaze around to meet his partner's; the older boy was crouched over him, eying him with worry. "Choutarou, are you okay?"

"We..." Ohtori could hardly even get the words out, it seemed so unbelievable. "We won? It went in, we won?"

Laughing, Shishido bodily hauled him upright enough so the other boy could hug him. "You're damn fucking straight we won! We did it, Choutarou! We beat the favourites, we're going on to the next round!"

Finally it sank in, and Ohtori all but shouted with joy as he hugged Shishido back fiercely. They'd won - they'd not only played well, they'd won against someone who, by all rights, should have made it to the finals.

Then Atobe was there, leaning over both of them and irritably ordering Shishido out of the way so the tournament medic could get a look at Ohtori's knee. Instead of moving away Shishido shifted around so he was at Ohtori's back, supporting him so it was easier for him to sit up without trying to move his knee at all.

After a brief examination the medic declared nothing to be damaged. "It's not even sprained, just wrenched a bit," he said. "Put some ice on it after you cool down to deal with any swelling, and stay off it for the night as much as possible. You should be fine by tomorrow."

Sighing with relief, Ohtori nodded. It was spring break, and this tournament was being held every day while the students were out of school. If his knee had been damaged it could have forced them to forfeit the next match.

"Go walk yourselves out," Atobe ordered them. "I'll hold off the crowds and the reporters for now; most of them do understand you need to cool down. Don't take too long, though; you've just made yourselves the rising stars of this tournament."

Ohtori accepted his and Shishido's help up, leaning heavily on his partner once he was up to keep the weight off his knee. Looking around, he was a little surprised to realize just how many of the crowd of people gathered at the edges of the court were reporters and cameramen. Well, of course this tournament was being covered by every tennis publication in the country, even though it was a Tokyo-only tournament. And it made sense that they would be paying close attention to the game being played by one of the best pairs in the tournament. Still Ohtori regarded the whole scene with a sense of disbelief.

"Let's get out of here before they swarm us," Shishido muttered, and Ohtori laughed his agreement. They handed their racquets to Atobe and staggered off, both exhausted almost past their limits.

"I can't believe we won," Ohtori said, eyes sparkling as he limped along at Shishido's side. "I mean, obviously it's what we were aiming for, but... it doesn't seem quite real."

"Better get used to it," Shishido declared, his deep voice full of smug satisfaction. "We're going to take them by storm, Choutarou."

"Yes we are," Ohtori agreed, a truly delighted smile breaking over his face. "Gods, Shishido-san, we really did it!"

They escaped the crowd with surprising ease; from the sounds of it everyone wanted to interview the defeated pair first, trusting that Ohtori and Shishido weren't likely to try to slink off without talking to the press. Theirs wasn't the last match to finish by any means; he could still hear the sounds of balls hitting racquet strings on several of the nearby courts.

"There's an empty court over there," Shishido said, jerking his head at the far side of the complex. There were a couple of smaller half-courts there with practice walls, intended for players to use while warming up. They didn't have rings of bleachers around them, just tall fences to keep stray balls in the area. Because of the way they were arranged in a square around each other, each of the courts had walls blocking the view from two sides; if they went to the outside court chances were good an overeager reporter wouldn't easily be able find them.

Nodding, Ohtori allowed himself to be helped in that direction. As the adrenalin and thrill of victory began to wear off, he found his knee was starting to really ache any time he put his full weight on it. At least Shishido had put on something of a growth spurt, so he was now only a few inches shorter than Ohtori and at a good height to help him.

Of course, having his arm slung over Shishido's shoulder and the older boy supporting him around the waist had problems even if their heights were close enough that he didn't have to bend awkwardly. He flushed as he felt the familiar tingle of contact, his breath coming short not because of his exhaustion, but because of the older boy's proximity.

Once inside the secluded area Shishido helped him walk back and forth along the wall, both of them slowly cooling down as their bodies recovered. "Man, I'm going to sleep well tonight," Shishido commented, his voice slightly strained to Ohtori's ears.

Wondering why the older boy would sound like that, Ohtori glanced down at him and caught Shishido looking up at him from the corner of his eyes. Their gazes met and held for a long, breathless moment, midnight blue to amber brown. They'd stopped moving, Ohtori was vaguely aware in some part of his brain that wasn't occupied with inventing images of Shishido asleep in his bed. Or just in bed, anyway.

Gods... Ohtori already knew that the sexual tension between them always reached a peak right after they'd been playing. Spending hours so intently focused on each other was bound to have that effect, really. He'd never again made the mistake of showering at the same time as Shishido, and the older boy had likewise been careful not to ever change in front of him, or be around when he was changing. It was something they'd just learned to deal with, avoiding the issue whenever possible and ignoring it when avoidance proved impractical.

At that moment, though, Ohtori was nearly swamped by a wave of sheer longing. They were so close, just inches apart. Inches that could easily be closed... he didn't think they'd ever been quite this close. He could feel Shishido's harsh breath against his face, feel the faint trembling that had started in the older boy's body. "Shishido-san," he murmured, his voice catching on the words. His throat and mouth were dry, and he licked his lips. Shishido's eyes flared wide and darkened at the unthinking gesture, and Ohtori nearly gasped, drowning in lust-filled blue.

It would be so easy to lean down... or even just to stand still, because he was almost certain that Shishido was about to stretch up to meet him...

"Damn it!" Cursing, Shishido broke away abruptly, pulling away so suddenly and completely that Ohtori nearly went over on his ass. He caught himself against the practice wall and stared at his partner, who was now standing several feet away with his fists clenched like he was angry. "Fucking hell Choutarou, don't do that!"

The air caught in Ohtori's throat at the anguished sound of his partner's voice. Shishido sounded like he was in agony, and not a pleasant sort either. "Shishido-san?" he asked, dazed. "I don't... what did I do? Don't do what?" He couldn't think, his system was still reeling from how very close they'd just come to kissing and he felt like he was in shock.

"That!" Shishido almost shouted, gesturing angrily at him. When Ohtori only blinked at him in incomprehension, the older boy growled and yanked his cap off, raking a hand through his hair.

"Don't look at me like that," he elaborated roughly. "You... you looked like you were waiting for me to ravish you. Like you wouldn't have said 'no' if I did, damn it."

Ohtori flushed with guilt and not-so-hidden longing, and he ducked his head in shame. Much as he'd have liked to deny it, he didn't want to lie to his partner. And it wouldn't have worked anyway; Shishido knew him too well.

"Look," Shishido sighed, coming to stand just out of easy reach in front of him. "You know I want you bad, Choutarou. Sometimes I wish I could have just stayed stupidly oblivious, because this sure hurts like fucking hell at times. Except then you and I would still be fighting, and anything is worth getting past that. But I'm only human."

Looking up slightly, Ohtori saw that Shishido was giving him a helpless look. The younger boy swallowed hard, because Shishido's eyes were still wide and dark with lust, and Ohtori could see him trembling as he fought for restraint. Ohtori's mouth parted slightly as he stared, riveted by the sight, and Shishido cursed again.

"Fucking... don't you get it?" he snarled, slamming his hands onto the wall on either side of Ohtori's shoulders. They both knew Ohtori wasn't really trapped; he was more than strong enough to get out if he wanted to. They also both knew he wasn't going to move, transfixed by Shishido's outraged and desperate stare.

"Listen to me," the older boy ground out. "And pay attention, because I'm not going to say this again. I don't know what's going through that head of yours sometimes... maybe you're telling yourself that it's not your fault if I kiss you, or something like that. Well, bullshit. You know Amano wouldn't see it that way, and you know he'd be right not to because it doesn't work like that."

Shishido was so close, and Ohtori couldn't remember ever seeing him so infuriated. He was just as glad he had the wall to lean against, because both his knees were threatening to give out on him. His breaths were coming in shallow little pants in a fast counterpoint to Shishido's ragged gasps.

"It's not fair, Choutarou," the older boy continued, voice low and intense. "It's not fair to Amano, or to me. You're better than this. Stop relying on my restraint to keep you out of trouble... because it's not going to keep working much longer."

Shivering, Ohtori had to try twice before his voice would work. "I can't not react to you, Shishido-san," he whispered, unable to raise his volume any more than that.

"I know that, and we've done a pretty good job of dealing with it before this," Shishido acknowledged, his eyes narrowing. "But you've been tempting fate a lot more often lately, Choutarou. You know you have, and it's got to stop. I can't take much more of this, no matter how much I don't want to fuck up our partnership again."

"I..." He was right, Ohtori realized miserably. Looking back on their interaction over the last few weeks since his birthday, he had been putting himself more and more often in positions where he would get to touch Shishido, or Shishido would have to be close to him. It had been subconscious, at least mostly... but that didn't change the fact that Shishido was right. It wasn't fair of him to tease like that.

"I'm sorry," he said miserably, lowering his eyes again. "I just... it's..." It's hard for me, he wanted to say, but he bit back the words. Searching for excuses for his bad behaviour wasn't fair, either. "I'm sorry," he repeated. "I'll stop, I promise."

"All right." Shishido studied him for a long moment, not moving away. Ohtori's breath kept catching in his throat, and he felt like he couldn't get enough air. Why wasn't he moving away? Why weren't either of them moving? Shouldn't they have been carefully separating themselves, after what they'd just agreed on?

"Choutarou." Shishido's voice was husky, and Ohtori looked up without thinking. He was trapped for real this time, caught in the dusky blue of Shishido's eyes and the wistful, longing expression on the older boy's face. He was leaning in, slowly, his eyes never leaving Ohtori's as he closed the distance between them.

Had he decided to steal one kiss after all, while he still had the chance? Ohtori was confused, and part of him desperately wanted to grab the offered opportunity. But Shishido had been right; it wasn't fair to any of him for him to allow this to happen.

"No," he rasped, turning his face away. Somehow he found the strength to lift his hands, setting them on Shishido's shoulders and holding him at bay. He couldn't push him away entirely, he didn't have the will to do that much, but he did stop him from coming closer. "Shishido-san, no. We can't." His voice broke on the words, and he bit his lip.

Taking a deep breath, Shishido moved back a step, Ohtori's hands still on his shoulders. "Good. Now maybe we can get on with our friendship and get things back on an even keel."

Disbelieving, Ohtori stared at him. "You were testing me?" he asked, shocked. "What would you have done if I hadn't pushed you away?"

Shishido gave him a quirky grin in response. "I'd have stopped - this time," he added in a tone of warning. "But don't push me, Choutarou. My self-control isn't infinite, and you've been stretching it in one way or another since the day you confessed to me. If we give in to this, however much we both want it, it'll destroy us. Because you're not the kind of guy that can mess around behind his boyfriend's back... and I'm not the kind of guy who can settle for being the secret fling."

"You both deserve better," Ohtori agreed with a sigh. "I wish my attraction to you had died when I got over the infatuation; it would have made things so much simpler. But you're still as beautiful as you ever were."

To his surprise, his words made Shishido blush and turn away. "C'mon, we've got interviews to give," the older boy said, tugging his cap back into place. He headed for the door to the court, and Ohtori limped slowly after him. His heart felt like it was somewhere in his stomach, and he cursed his wayward hormones. Not for the first time since they'd repaired their friendship he wondered if his infatuation with Shishido might not be quite as dead as he'd like to believe. Or, maybe worse, if it hadn't been reborn as something else entirely.

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