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Touché	By : maderine Category: +S to Z > Utena Views: 3278 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Utena, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Touché
- 1
Disclaimer: "Shoujo Kakumei Utena" is the property of Saitou Chiho and Be-Papas, though if I could nick Saionji off them and hide him under my bed, I would...
Touché
Thrust... withdraw...
Plunge forward and retreat...
This familiar rhythm repeated again and again.
No words exchanged. Nothing but the sounds of panting breaths, grunts of effort,
The slide of bare flesh on wood.
Saionji threw himself into a vicious lunge at Touga who stayed, unresisting. Too late to stop the motion, Saionji realized his mistake. Touga averted his thrust and brought his own bokken down hard on Saoinji's right shoulder. Harder than necessary for a practice duel. The wooden sword dropped from Saionji's numbed fingers. He stood absolutely still as the smooth wood of Touga's bokken slid against his neck. "You're dead," Touga said, his lips curled into the customary smirk which masqueraded as a smile.
"Bastard," Saionji seethed. To lose to Touga was one thing. He lost every week, and though the knowledge burned bitterly, he could accept it. But to be mocked!
"Now, now," Touga laughed, a laughter that was not of amusement, but of ridicule. "Kyouichi-kun, don't be a poor sport."
"Don't call me that!" Those eyes flashed with all the fury and beauty of a building storm and Touga laughed again, suddenly breathless with more than exertion.
"Kyouichi?" Touga murmured the name with only half an ear for Saionji's protests, his thoughts clearly on other things. His ice-blue eyes swept slowly over Saionji's form and Saionji could feel that hungry gaze like an unbearable heat on every part of him it touched.
Touga still held the bokken. Lightly, he drew it down Saionji's chest, over the pale expanse bared by his open gi, bringing it to rest on the belt of his hakama. Saionji shivered. "Stop," he said, hating the way his voice shook.
Touga loved to play games and this was a game they played often. Coy Saionji, always pretending that he didn't want to play, but Touga knew. He let the bokken drop, replacing it with his hands. "You don't mean that," Touga said, his hands sliding over Saionji's body in such a way that Saionji knew it wouldn't matter to Touga in the least if he did mean it. "You want this, don't you?" Touga whispered, not giving Saionji a chance to answer before Touga's lips claimed his. The other man's fingers twined into his long hair, slipping out the tie and freeing the soft, wavy mass. Touga gripped it tightly, pulling almost painfully, forcing Saionji's head back. He used the opportunity to invade the mouth that opened to him reflexively.
The kiss deepened. Saionji contemplated biting as Touga's tongue slid against his, but Touga was pressing himself closer, grinding his hips shamelessly against Saionji's. He couldn't quite contain the small gasp that insistent pressure wrung from him. "You want this," Touga whispered again, his lips leaving Saionji's, making a burning trail of hot kisses down his neck, his shoulder, his chest.
"No," Saionji said, now while he still could. "Touga, stop it. I'm sick of your fucking games." And that was all Saionji was to him. A game. That's all he had ever been.
"Don't be that way," Touga admonished smoothly. His hands reached for Saionji's belt.
"No! Touga, no!" Saionji shoved at him. "Damn it, aren't you listening to me?" But Touga held fast. One leg slipped between his, weight shifted and suddenly Saionji was on the floor, pinned by Touga's greater weight. He had narrowly avoided smashing his head on the sword rack by the wall. As he lay winded, the breath knocked out of him, Touga swiftly removed his belt. He fought weakly against Touga as the other man used the length of cloth to bind his wrists together and tie them over his head to the sword rack. "Bastard!" Saionji sobbed, fighting for air with the weight of Touga sitting on his chest. "You fucking egotistical bastard!"
Touga only sat back and observed his handy work. There was something irresistibly sexy about Saionji lying there, glaring at him with those storm-coloured eyes, his wild green hair in provocative disarray, tied up with his own belt and struggling furiously against his bonds. "You're the one who isn't listening to yourself, Kyouichi," Touga said, responding to the earlier question. "You may lie, but your body can't." His palm covered Saionji's semi-arousal meaningfully. Touga's fingers grasped him lightly through his hakama, starting a teasingly slow caress. "Nnuhh," Saionji moaned, his protest dying half-formed as he hardened fully under Touga's careful ministrations.
"You know, I beat you today," Touga said suddenly, thoughtfully. "By rights, you owe me something, don't you? What prize? A kiss for the victor?"
"I'm not... the fucking Rose Bride," Saionji bit out.
"No, I can see that." Touga's hand tightened on him pointedly, but abruptly, that touch was gone. "Wha-?" Saionji blurted without meaning to. "What are you..?" Touga's hands were at his waist. He couldn't see what they were doing. "A kiss, Kyouichi," Touga answered smoothly.
Saionji cried out in surprise and pleasure as Touga's incredibly hot, incredibly wet mouth swallowed him down. Those lips, that clever tongue... "Tou-!" Saionji half gasped. Touga's head drew back. Those cool blue eyes regarded him in mocking amusement. Lazily, the other man's tongue lapped at him, then even that teasing touch was gone. "Yes, Kyouichi? My dear, sweet, Kyouichi? What is it that you want?"
He should have known. He should have known Touga would make him beg, would not even leave him what little dignity he still claimed. "Touga!" Saionji cried, bucking his hips, trying to bring any part of Touga into contact with the aching need that burned in him.
"Tell me. Tell me what you want," Touga said. Saionji could feel the other man's heated breath on his skin.
"Touga, you-" Frantically, Saionji struggled to free his hands; to lash out, to wound or to caress, he wasn't even sure anymore. The belt cut painfully into his wrists.
"Say it."
"Oh God. Oh God, Touga!" Cool fingers moving across fevered flesh. "...please..."
"Please what?" This whispered against his lips. Touga's hands in his hair. Touga's body over his, but not touching. Never touching. He couldn't... He couldn't....
"...Fuck me."
"Kyouichi." Touga's hands caressed his hips, moved down his legs, bringing his hakama with them. Those hands traced back up the inside of his thighs and Saionji shivered as Touga spread his legs farther apart. "Tou-" Saionji started, but Touga silenced his protest with another searing kiss. His weight settled on Saionji, crushing the breath out of him, but good. So good. The rough material of his uniform scratched against Saionji's bare skin. "Shh," Touga whispered. "Don't speak. You wouldn't want anyone to hear you, now would you, Kyouichi-kun?"
Oh God. For someone to see him like this! Against his will, tears formed. Tears of humiliation, of frustration and of want. I will not cry! Saionji swore to himself. I will not cry for that cold bastard. But as Touga gave his first thrust, pain chased across Saionji's face and the tears spilled. It was always this way. Biting his Sai Saionji made an involuntary sound in the back of his throat.
Touga's hands tightened in his hair. Touga's long, silky red hair spilled across Saionji's chest like a fresh bloodstain as his teeth worried gently at an earlobe. "Shhh... Shh... my Kyouichi... You're... so beautiful... when you cry."
Touga's forceful movements jolted them both. A rough hand grasped his painful erection and jerked in a hard, fast rhythm. It was pleasure and pain so tangled and confused that Saionji could no longer tell the one from the other. That twisted knot of conflicting desire welled up and up in him until he thought he would die of it. "Touga. Tou... ga- ahh!" Saionji cried out as he came, hot seed spilling out over Touga's immaculate fingers, spattering Saionji's bare stomach.
"Ha..." Touga muffled his own cry against Saionji's shoulder, that little huff of air the only sound he allowed himself as he too came, thrusting as deeply into his friend's body as he could.
When Touga withdrew, for a long moment he only looked at Saionji lying there half-naked and stained with his own semen, tendrils of his soft green hair clinging to sweat-sheened skin. His lips were open and kiss swollen and his storm-cloud eyes misted with unshed tears. "Saionji..."
"Just go. Untie me and go."
Touga did, unknotting Saionji's belt from the sword rack and standing back. Saionji sat up, rubbing his wrists where the rough cloth had chafed a little. He looked sideways at Touga where he stood as cool and composed as ever. He hadn't even undressed.
"Tomorrow?"
Saionji sighed and nodded once. Because wasn't it always like this? Wouldn't it always be? As Touga left the kendo hall, Saionji stood and begun to gather his clothing, putting the room back into some semblance of order. If only he could do the same for himself.
- 1
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