title: Still Waters
fandom: Prince of Tennis
characters/pairings: Oishi/Fuji, implied Tezuka/Fuji, implied Oishi/Eiji
rating: G/Teen
warnings: kissing, touching
summary: Oishi is taken by surprise.
notes: takes place right after Captain Yamato shows up to their training camp

Oishi pretended to sleep for nearly forty-five minutes. Eiji was snoring softly next to him, a sound he found oddly soothing, but he still could not calm down.

The Captain had been there! Captain Yamato! Oishi still was uncertain about their 'practice' today, but he knew that tomorrow would be grueling, so perhaps it was for the best after all.

He opened his eyes, acclimating to the dark before sitting up. Dark lumps on the ground peacefully remained still, the odd noise here and there no more than a murmur against the wind. He couldn't stay in the bedroll all night; he'd go mad. Perhaps if he took a quick soak... He knew that draining the baths was one of the freshmen's duties, but he was pretty sure they did that in the morning. Even if the water were cool, it would be refreshing, maybe help to clear his mind.

He slipped out of his bedroll quietly, and headed for the bath, walking slowly and carefully so he didn't make any noise as he passed the coach's room or the freshman girls' room.

He stripped out of his bedclothes in bath's locker room, and slipped a towel around his waist. That alone felt good; perhaps part of his restlessness was something else? Living in communal quarters, working so hard as they were, there really wasn't any 'private' time for any of them. Oishi didn't think he was that... needy, but it did feel good to relax and feel the soft terry cloth against his bare skin.

He stepped into the bath and stopped dead. Fuji was sitting on the table under the windows where the extra towels were piled up, his body and hair wet as he leaned back and stared up at the moon.

Oishi felt himself reacting to what he was seeing before he even had a chance to think. Fuji's body was quite beautiful, very slim, and if Oishi didn't know how strong Fuji was, he might be tempted to describe him as frail. His arms were wrapped around his knees, lending vulnerability to his posture, and his face was washed in the moonlight, making his features finer and more elegant. But it was his eyes that arrested Oishi, grabbed him and twisted his gut.

Fuji had such... emotion in his eyes. Oishi couldn't describe it, even to himself, but he could see it.

And it twisted his gut even more, because his first thought was that Tezuka got to see Fuji's eyes like this whenever he wanted. Hell, Eiji did, too.

But he wasn't one of the prodigy's chosen ones. Not that he even wanted to be. It was pointless to set himself up as Fuji's rival, because Fuji crushed his rivals into dust and that wasn't what Oishi wanted, but he wanted to be able to compete.

He could still escape. He was sure Fuji hadn't seen him, yet. He just had to back out, and...

"It's a lovely night, isn't it? Not that great for sleeping."

Fuji's voice drifted across the bath like the water lapping against the walls, dreamy and soft, lulling. Oishi felt trapped.

"You should be very proud, Oishi."

He started, pulled by strings he couldn't see to take a step forward, even as he wanted to flee. "Proud? What...?"

Fuji smiled and turned his gaze to Oishi. "This camp. You've done an excellent job; we're all improving, even in this short time."

Oishi took another step forward, his traitor feet giving in to Fuji's calm. "I... It's not me... I mean, Ryuzaki-sensei..."

Fuji laughed, the soft peals crackling against the water pleasantly. "Don't be shy, Oishi-kun. You've done a good job." Fuji opened his eyes entirely, and watched Oishi. "Tezuka would be proud."

Oishi flushed all over his body, embarrassingly, completely unable to hide his reaction.

Fuji's gentle chuckles echoed off the tile and the water, making the sound large and empty. He turned his face away from Oishi, the curl of his lips appearing more sinister because his eyes were now closed. "Did you need to talk.... again?"

It was a rub. It didn't matter where they were, or what Oishi was feeling. He had to remember that Fuji was Fuji. Fuji did not lose. Fuji did not let anyone close. Fuji did not show weakness. Sometimes, though, it was hard to know what game Fuji was playing. Oishi wasn't tired, but he wasn't in the mood for this. He wanted to relax. "I'm sorry for disturbing you, I should just..."

"Does it bother you when I mention Tezuka?"

There was a warmth in his voice that Oishi found irritating. Fuji didn't show affection, and he didn't casually throw around his feelings. Oishi bit the inside of his cheek, swallowing his jealousy. He had no reason to be jealous, after all. They weren't competitors, really, even if he did still admire Tezuka, and he didn't mind Eiji's relationship with Fuji, because they'd discussed it, and there were boundaries...

"You think too much, Oishi. Maybe that's why he prefers me. Sometimes, you have to just go with your feelings. Didn't you want to take a bath?"

Oishi's hand went to his towel, clutching it closer. He glared at the tile between his feet, imagining that he was standing on Fuji's face. "I couldn't sleep, but I really wanted to be alone."

"Sorry," Fuji said for no reason. "I'm always in your way, aren't I?"

"Not really," Oishi asserted. "We're just teammates."

"Come closer," Fuji beckoned.

Oishi had no reason to obey him, and he certainly wasn't obeying him, not at all, but he had no reason not to go along with him either, not really, and anyway, the room was a little warm. Maybe Fuji had turned on the heater. He probably wasn't thinking that clearly; obviously, they were talking too loudly, standing so far apart.

"Oishi, do you dislike me?" Fuji leaned his head on the windowsill, looking over at Oishi with half-lidded eyes. The line of his collarbone looked so fluid, the skin so smooth over it, and Oishi was tempted by the scant insinuation of sweat that coated the skin.

He blinked, opening and closing his fists. "Why would... I dislike you?" He licked his lips, and he felt naked there, in just a towel, far too aware of his skin, and aware of Fuji's skin, the way Fuji had his legs up, pressed against his chest, he might well be naked, after all, hadn't he always been the first to strip for showers? Fuji was never ashamed of anything, because he was Fuji, damn it, and why would you be ashamed of the skin that Tezuka had licked? Oishi took another step closer, and he could hear Eiji laughing at him, prodding him closer. 'Ne, Syuichiroh, can't we invite Fuji to join us this weekend? He's been so lonely since the Captain left, even though he won't say so...'

"I don't know, I suppose," Fuji sighed, "but you don't, do you?"

"No," Oishi agreed. "I don't."

"Are you jealous of me?"

The question was innocent, totally innocent, as if Fuji had nothing to do with it. Oishi shook his head sluggishly. "Of course I am. Isn't everyone?"

"Not everyone," Fuji smiled enigmatically. "Come closer."

Oishi was standing now with his thighs pressed against the table. Fuji lowered one leg sinuously, so it ran down Oishi's leg. Fuji looked up at Oishi from behind closed eyes. "Why?"

"Why what?" Oishi asked from genuine confusion.

"Why are you jealous of me? Is it because of Tezuka? Aren't you happy with Eiji? ...I can leave Eiji alone if you want. He told me that you wouldn't mind. Anyway, he's like a jackrabbit; I'd think you'd be happy with the reprieve."

"It all comes so easily to you... Like you were just born with it... The tennis, I mean... I have to work so hard, and..."

Fuji was laughing now, and it sounded musical against the water and the walls, and it closed Oishi inside of it, the sound of it. Fuji leaned forward and put his hand on Oishi's cheek, lowering his other leg against Oishi's other leg, so he was straddling him. "You know, you have really beautiful eyes."

Fuji was kissing him. He tasted like mouthwash, and pepper. His fingers clutched at Oishi, tearing at him, almost. They were kissing.

Fuji stopped, just pulling away enough to breathe against Oishi's mouth. "Really. I'd never noticed before. They're so green. Look at us. Just two towels away from fucking. Do you want to, Oishi?"

It was hard to think, because Fuji was so close to him, and he could smell something that could probably be described as Fuji now, and his crotch was close to Fuji's crotch, and that seemed like a pretty good thing. They were kissing again, and this time, he wound his arms around Fuji's body, lifting him up a little and putting his hand on Fuji's rear, and he could rip off that towel, and Fuji would be bare before him, and he could lay Fuji down on the table, and...

...and this was not Eiji. The stunning lack of Eiji-ness could not be more apparent. He wasn't even thinking about how Tezuka had probably done this exact thing with Fuji, except to think that he wasn't thinking it. He didn't want this, he realized, breaking the contact between them. He didn't want to be here with anyone who lacked Eiji-ness.

What did that mean?

Fuji started to laugh again, but this sounded different. It sounded self-depreciating, so Oishi assumed it was a trick of the water. "Guess it's just as well, ne, Oishi-kun? I did mean to save that for Tezuka, after all."

Fuji was moving past him, almost moving through him, but he was solid, still, and his thoughts moved like the waters, back and forth against the walls of the bath. "Wait... What? Why?"

Fuji smiled, closing his eyes, and shrugged carelessly. Oishi noticed that his towel was practically falling off his hips, but Fuji clearly didn't care. "I'm not sure. I guess I was testing you, Oishi-kun. Just wanted to see how far you'd let me go. Enjoy your bath."

Oishi was alone in the bath. Confused and lost, he nearly forgot to drop his towel and slip into the water. It was ice-cold at that point, but he didn't mind it so much. He needed to clear his head.