lysapadin: pen & ink painting of bamboo against a full moon (Default)
[personal profile] lysapadin
Title: Wheels Within Wheels
Characters/Pairings: Chris and Miyuki
Summary: Sometimes even knowing that Miyuki's plans have multiple layers isn't enough to keep a person from playing right into his hands.
Notes: All right, so [ profile] cytakigawa drew this picture, right? And frankly it contains some of my favorite things, and the spirit moved me, as it were. So here we are. Adult for smut. A bit of light-hearted crossdressing and a lot of banter. 5057 words.


Wheels Within Wheels

Chris didn't know that Miyuki Kazuya was behind the whole thing, but on the other hand he knew Kazuya, which was almost the same thing. When the call went out seeking volunteers who would spend a day cross-dressing—"To promote a better understanding between the sexes!"—Chris took one look at the flyer and saw Kazuya's fingerprints all over it. He would have worried that this was doing Kazuya an injustice but for the fact that Kazuya was the sort to be flattered when accused of fomenting mischief, even if he were not in fact guilty.

Kazuya, Chris reflected, had bad hobbies.

In any case, he considered his suspicions confirmed when he came across Kazuya cajoling some of the first years into signing up. Kominato looked amused, Furuya looked confused, and Sawamura just looked suffused with rage. Ah, Chris thought while Kazuya wheedled and coaxed. That explained that.

He'd asked Kazuya once why he took such delight in winding Sawamura up, since it was so easy to do that Chris frankly would have expected him to have grown bored with such low-hanging fruit. Kazuya had shrugged. "I don't know, I just can't help it."

Chris had accepted that for what it was, Kazuya's declining to talk about it, and left it at that.

Now he watched Sawamura turn progressively darker shades of red and waited for the explosion. It was not long in coming. "I'm not going to dress up like a girl, you pervert!" His voice bounced off the buildings, but Sawamura had become one of Seidou's fixtures and no one paid much attention to it.

"Pervert?" Kazuya protested. He was the very picture of offended innocence. "You're the one with a filthy mind, here. You should be ashamed of yourself, reading such filthy ideas into an event that's only meant to help us all understand each other a little better. Sawamura, I'm ashamed, I really am."

"You're ashamed?!" Sawamura yelled, in full cry now. "You don't even know what that means!"

It was an accurate observation of Kazuya's character, not that it did Sawamura any good. Kazuya shook his head, sorrowful. "To think that I could have such a pervert on my team—and so young, too! Is there no innocence left in the world?"

"I—but—you—argh!" Sawamura clutched his hair, maybe to tear some out or maybe because he was getting a headache.

That was when Kominato chose to intervene. "Will you be volunteering, too?"

Kazuya drew himself up to his full height. "Of course. What kind of captain would I be if I wasn't willing to take the lead?" He shook his head. "It's just too bad that not everyone on the team is secure enough in his masculinity to follow."

That was the last necessary touch. "Are you calling me a coward?!" Sawamura shouted.

Kazuya shrugged. "It's all right, Sawamura. Not everyone reaches maturity at the same rate. I'm sure you'll catch up with the rest of us… eventually."

Sawamura's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. "Catch up? Catch up?! Just you wait, you bastard, you'll see how mature I am, I'll make the best girl on the whole team!" He shook his fist at Kazuya and dashed off, presumably to throw himself headfirst into preparations for that very purpose.

Kominato sighed, watching him go, and then bowed to Kazuya. "It's an honor to see a master at work."

Kazuya smiled blandly, as though he had no idea what Kominato meant by that. "Of course, neither of you will let him outdo you."

That was enough to make Furuya bristle, while Kominato snickered. "Of course not," he agreed, right before he turned to Chris. "What about you, senpai?"

Possibly it had been a mistake to leave Kazuya in charge of impressionable minds, but it was far too late to do anything about it now.

Kazuya turned bright eyes on him, too. "Yes, what about you, senpai? Are you going to participate with us?"

Chris allowed himself a small smile, amused. "I think I'm secure enough in my masculinity that I don't need to prove how secure I am by wearing a skirt, but I thank you for the invitation."

Kazuya grinned, eyes glinting in appreciation, and clasped his hands together, practically pious about it. "But think of the example you'd be setting for all those who look up to you!"

"Oh, believe me, I am." He didn't think Kazuya was particularly determined to get him to go along with his scheme, whatever it was, aside from his general determination to torment Sawamura and see how many of their fellow students he could persuade into going along with it. Presumably there was at least one more layer to his strategy than that, but it was early days to be figuring out what it might be. "Thank you, but I'll satisfy myself with being your moral support. I'd hate to break tradition."

Kominato was no fool; he saw the way Kazuya's smile faded then and seized Furuya's arm. "C'mon, you were going to help me with that assignment," he said as he towed Furuya away with him.

Furuya's puzzled, "What assignment?" drifted back to them in their wake.

Kazuya folded his arms across his chest, ignoring their departure. "I have half a mind to make you participate now."

Chris knew better than to mistake his light tone for good humor. "You take my position more seriously than I do." He came closer to Kazuya, close enough to rest a hand on his shoulder. "It was a joke."

"Then it was in poor taste," Kazuya retorted.

It probably was, at that, at least from his perspective. Chris sighed. "If it will make you feel better, I'll do it." He didn't relish the prospect of wearing the girl's uniform with the weather turning chilly, but sometimes sacrifices had to be made for the greater good of clearing the darkness from Kazuya's eyes.

Kazuya pursed his lips. "Yes, I think it will." He smiled then, sunny. "Thank you for offering."

Chris considered him and sighed again as he realized he'd been had. "You are a terrible, terrible person, I hope you realize that," he said, more amused than not.

Kazuya grinned at him, no trace of repentance about it. "Maybe, but you have to admit that I get results."

"A terrible person," Chris repeated, even as he glanced around to be sure they were alone and looped an arm around Kazuya, who simply hummed and leaned his head back so that Chris could kiss him.

He grinned at Chris after he drew back. "I'll bet that you'll look great in a skirt," he said, and dodged before Chris could scruff him and knuckle the top of his head. "Thank you for your cooperation, Chris-senpai!"

"A terrible, terrible person!" Chris called after him, smiling over it anyway, since he'd walked into it fair and square.

So that was how Chris and most of the rest of the baseball club ended up participating in a day of school-endorsed cross-dressing, some of them with better grace than others. Chris didn't know whether they'd collectively learned all that much, aside from the various inconveniences that went with wearing a skirt on a cold day (not to mention the modesty issues; there was a lot of cat-calling in the stairwells that day and the female half of the student body really seemed to enjoy their opportunity to get some of their own back, not that Chris could blame them). Kazuya was right in the middle of it all, of course, one minute hamming it up outrageously and the next apparently forgetting that he was wearing a skirt at all and showing the world what he was wearing underneath it (bicycle shorts, as it happened, because Kazuya was anything but stupid). Not everyone had possessed the same foresight, so the day was full of shrieking laughter and red faces and probably not all that much learning in spite of their teachers' best efforts. All in all, it was amusing enough, but Chris was perfectly happy to change out of his borrowed clothes at the end of the day so he could go to his PT, assuming as he did that Kazuya must have been very pleased with the day of chaos he'd brought about.

He really should have known better.

Chris had given up on figuring out how Kazuya managed to get into his room when he wasn't around to let him in—he'd probably made a copy of the key or (mis)used his authority to persuade Chris' roommates into admitting him or learned to pick locks, or all of the above. What mattered was that he let himself into his room and found Kazuya lounging on his desk, one stockinged leg primly crossed over the other, swinging his foot (and a distinctly non-school-regulation high-heeled shoe) and paging through one of Chris' books. He looked up and set his book down. "There you are."

Chris dropped his bag in its customary corner and took his jacket off. "Here I am. And here you are." And it was certainly no coincidence that his roommates, however, were nowhere in evidence. "Did I forget we had plans?"

Kazuya scoffed. "Like I believe you'd do that."

"You flatter me," Chris told him, not least since he'd forgotten to keep the hidden layers of Kazuya's cross-dressing scheme in mind.

Kazuya grinned at him as he came away from the door, still swinging his foot back and forth. "Would I do that?"

Chris kissed him before answering, a process that became rather involved before Kazuya finally allowed him to draw away. "Of course you would, if you thought it would get you what you wanted."

"Fair enough," Kazuya allowed, hooking his arms around Chris' shoulders. He reeled Chris back in for another kiss, and another one after that, until Chris was bracing himself with hands on either side of Kazuya's hips and one of Kazuya's legs was hooked around his waist.

Chris leaned his forehead against Kazuya's before they could get too engrossed in what they were doing. "Did you kick my roommates out again?"

"You said I wasn't allowed to do that anymore." Chris raised his eyebrows, waiting, and Kazuya laughed. "There might be an epic Call of Duty tournament going on right now, though."

There might be, he said. Chris gave him a stern look, or the closest thing to it that he could muster. "If you cause half the baseball club to flunk their exams because you wanted to get lucky, Coach is going to be very disappointed with you."

Kazuya opened his eyes very wide. "Am I going to get lucky?" Somehow he managed to keep a straight face; well, they didn't call him a genius for nothing. "Senpai, this is so sudden."

Honestly, he could have saved the effort of disapproving because it simply rolled off Kazuya's impervious personality. "Have I ever told you that you are a terrible person?"

"Not today," Kazuya said, thoughtful. "I was starting to think you didn't love me anymore." He grinned and hooked a finger in Chris' collar, undoing the top button of his shirt. "So about me getting lucky…"

"Such a terrible person," Chris repeated. Then he shrugged. "But it would be a shame not to take advantage of having the room to ourselves."

Kazuya laughed against his mouth when he leaned closer and returned his kiss eagerly, hot and open.

Chris slid his arm around Kazuya, leaning into him as he traced his tongue over the curve of Kazuya's lips; Kazuya hummed to him and plucked at Chris' buttons until he could spread his fingers against his chest, just a little cool against his skin. "You know, I really didn't think you were going to be able to maintain all that dignity of yours today. I should have known better."

So there was another piece of strategy unveiled, though Chris wasn't sure what to make of it. He kissed the line of Kazuya's jaw and found the faintest trace of scent lingering on the skin behind his ear, something spicy-sweet layered with the ordinary scent of his soap and skin. Trust Kazuya not to do anything by halves. Kazuya arched against him as he nuzzled that spot, tasting his skin, and it took him a moment to answer when Chris said, "Just what do you have against my dignity?"

"Mm." Kazuya's voice had dropped in pitch, was husky ear as Chris traced his tongue along his ear. "Nothing, really, you just have so much of it, and nothing ever seems to ruffle it."

"Hmm." Chris mouthed the side of Kazuya's throat as he set his hand on Kazuya's waist, slipping his fingers under the hem of his blouse and sliding them along his skin. "I thought that was what you kept Sawamura around for."

Kazuya leaned back and rolled his eyes. "Are you kidding? That's not even a challenge." He pulled the blouse off over his head and tossed it aside. "Not that it's not fun to get him all riled up, don't get me wrong, but half the time he does it to himself. It's too easy."

The key to Kazuya—one of the keys, he had several and Chris wasn't at all sure he'd found them all yet—was to listen for the things he did not say, the silences between his words and the negative spaces in his ideas, and use those to infer the shapes of the things he didn't care to admit to. Chris looked at Kazuya, sitting back on his hands, bare-chested and smiling with his legs spread wide to accommodate him between them, the skirt draped over his thighs and the suggestion of a bulge at his crotch. "Do you think that you don't get to me?" He set his hands on Kazuya's knees, registering the sleek texture of the stockings over the knobbiness of his patella—of course Kazuya would have sought out the real thing, not nylons, anything he did he would do to the hilt.

Kazuya opened his mouth, but Chris leaned in to kiss him before he could say anything to deflect him from the topic. "You're wrong if you do." He shaped the words against Kazuya's mouth as he slid his hands up Kazuya's thighs, spreading them wider against his desk and rubbing his thumbs over the silky ribbons edging the tops of his stockings.

Kazuya shivered. "Is that so?"

Chris smiled at the hint of challenge. "I wouldn't say it if it weren't." He closed his teeth on Kazuya's lower lip, delicately, and stroked his fingers along the tops of Kazuya's stockings, dragging the pads of them over warm, soft skin. Kazuya shivered again and spread his knees wider, the invitation clear. Chris didn't see any call to be in a hurry and stroked his tongue over Kazuya's lip before sucking on it. "You know I didn't learn a single thing today, thanks to you."

Kazuya leaned back on his hands; his mouth was read with kissing, but his eyes were still sharp behind his glasses. "Just how do you figure that?"

"Well, let me think." Chris pushed the hem of Kazuya's skirt higher, baring the pale skin above his stockings—no bicycle shorts were in evidence now. "Could it be because every time I tried to concentrate, the thought of you in this skirt popped into my head?"

"Really? You didn't seem all that impressed, as I recall." There was a hint of rasp in Kazuya's voice now, underpinning that thread of challenge.

"Maybe I just didn't feel like it was anyone else's business but mine just how impressed I was." Chris dipped his palms between Kazuya's thighs, spreading them wide and kneading the taut, powerful muscle of them. "It's not anyone else's business is it, really? Except for yours, I suppose." The drape of Kazuya's skirt was still preserving his modesty, but only haphazardly—it couldn't disguise that Kazuya was getting harder by the second. That was possibly even more obscene than the sight of Kazuya's bare cock would have been.

Kazuya huffed, husky. "I think that's a lot of big talk, senpai."

Chris laughed and kissed him again, slow, tasting his mouth. "Just what is it that you want to hear?" He kissed his way along Kazuya's jaw, sucking just firmly enough to raise faint marks that would fade by morning, and brushed his lips against Kazuya's ear. "That I couldn't stop thinking about how easy a skirt would make it to put my hands between your legs and touch you? Because I certainly spent some time thinking about that. I wouldn't have to do much more than reach under there to get my hands on you."

"Fuck, Chris," Kazuya breathed, low. He cleared his throat and added, businesslike, "You say that like it's a challenge to put your hand down the front of my pants or something."

Chris laughed, helplessly fond of Kazuya and all his pushy ways. "I guess that's true." He nibbled on Kazuya's earlobe until he heard his breath hitch. "But I'd have more trouble pulling you aside between classes and taking you up against the closest wall, wouldn't I? Today I could have just pushed up your skirt and had your legs wrapped around me in no time at all." He paused a moment and added, "If we were quick about it, you might even have been able to get to class on time, but you'd probably still have been dripping wet."

Kazuya groaned; he moved beneath Chris' hands, flexing his hips up. "Chris…"

"Or there's what I thought about doing when I walked in and saw you sitting on my desk," Chris continued. "But I think I'd rather show you what I had in mind instead of telling you."

Kazuya breathed, "Please do."

Chris smiled and pressed his mouth against the point of Kazuya's jaw as he hooked an ankle around his desk chair, dragging it close so he could sit. Kazuya chuckled, breathless, but he didn't say anything when Chris glanced at him—just smiled, enigmatic.

His reason became entirely clear when Chris rucked his skirt up around his hips—"Kazuya."

"Like them?" Kazuya wriggled his hips, suggestive, and his cock bobbed with his movement, straining against the demure panties that were struggling to confine it.

"One of these days you are going to be the actual death of me." Chris slid his hands over Kazuya's hips, running his thumb along the edges of the panties and drawing them taut over Kazuya's erection. There was a dark spot, wet where the silky fabric was clinging to the head of his cock.

Chris bent his head and exhaled against it, and Kazuya squirmed. "You said you were going to show me something."

Chris glanced up at him. "That was before I had a change of plans." He tightened his hands on Kazuya and closed his mouth on the damp spot, tasting him through the fabric.

Kazuya groaned, straining his hips up against Chris' hands, and groaned again when Chris kept him pinned right where he was. "Fuck, Chris…" He shuddered again as Chris tongued him and the damp cloth slid over his skin. He tried to lift his hips until Chris had to shift his hands in order to hold him still for the way he mouthed the shaft of Kazuya's cock, taking his time, until the thin fabric clung to Kazuya, gone translucent and revealing much more than it concealed. Kazuya was breathing fast over him, and his voice had turned raspy by the time he said, "I don't know why everyone says I'm evil."

"It's because you are." Chris bent his head and kissed the inside of Kazuya's thigh, sucking on his skin until there was a dark bruise blooming there were no one but the two of them would know about it.

"Then what does that make you?"

Chris smiled at that. "Didn't you know? I'm the nice one." He continued to smile, innocent, while Kazuya sputtered, and then hooked his fingers in the waistband of his panties, drawing them down. Kazuya stopped sputtering and said his name, hoarse, hovering on the verge of asking outright. Chris smiled again and bent his head, closing his lips around the head of him, slick and velvet-soft against his tongue.

Kazuya groaned, low and vibrant, pushing his hips against the weight of Chris' hands, and muttered something foul when Chris wouldn't let him and kept them still against his desk. "You're not nice at all."

Chris pulled back just enough to murmur, "Would you really want me to be?" He stroked his tongue over Kazuya, tracing the slit of his head before Kazuya could answer, and lapped at him slowly while Kazuya groaned for him.

Kazuya ran his fingers through Chris' hair. "No, as long as you don't stop—ah!" He groaned again, open-voiced and breathless, as Chris slid his mouth down around him, taking his time and humming around the sleek weight of Kazuya's cock sliding over his tongue. Kazuya ran his fingers through Chris' hair and panted for breath, uttering hungry sounds as Chris stroked his mouth up and down the length of his cock, matching the rhythm in the way Kazuya's hips tried to flex under his hands, until Kazuya gasped his name. Chris hummed to him again and sucked on the head of him, feeling the way Kazuya's muscles tensed beneath his palms, and watched the way Kazuya let his head fall back as he came, salt-flat on Chris' tongue.

It was these moments that showed Kazuya at his most unguarded, and Chris watched closely as Kazuya's pleasure as it took him—the way he groaned, lips parted and still red with being kissed, and the flushed glow of his expression, utterly relaxed even after he began to come down from the first sweep of his pleasure. Chris lapped at him gently, purely for the way it make Kazuya's breath hitch, and eased off him as he relaxed his hold on Kazuya. He sat back to enjoy the spectacle Kazuya made, splayed wantonly across his desk with a smile hovering on his lips, and was very pleased with his handiwork.

Kazuya opened his eyes after a moment and his smile stretched a bit wider. "I'll have to remember that you have a kink for lingerie."

Chris reached over and rested his hand on Kazuya's knee so he could rub his thumb along the inside of it. "So will I."

Kazuya laughed; a second later Chris heard the thump of a shoe hitting the floor. Kazuya grinned at him, leaning back on his hands, and slid his foot between Chris' knees, dragging it up his inseam. "I do love it when a plan is even more successful than I'd expected it to be." He stroked his foot over the front of Chris' slacks, which were pulled tight across his erection.

Chris groaned at the pressure, the heat that he'd set aside suddenly flashing up his spine, demanding all of his attention. "Kazuya…"

Kazuya smiled down at him and flexed his foot slowly. "What do you think, senpai? Does one good turn deserve another?"

Chris closed his fingers around Kazuya's ankle and squeezed it. "If that's supposed to mean that you're offering to come down here and blow me, then yes, I think it does."

Kazuya laughed outright. "Have I ever told you how much fun it is when you get hot enough to start being vulgar?" He kicked his foot free of Chris' hand and slipped off the desk, every move still sinuous with satiation.

Chris set his feet farther apart, making room for Kazuya to settle between them. "No, but I'd guessed." It hadn't been difficult, given the way Kazuya clearly delighted in teasing him to that point.

Kazuya grinned at that as he reached for Chris' fly, popping the button and dragging the zipper down. "What can I say? It's such a change from how proper you can be." Chris murmured his name, low, as Kazuya unfastened his slacks, and groaned it as Kazuya eased his cock free of his underwear. Kazuya slid his hand over it a couple of times, pumping it, smiling like the devil as Chris groaned. "So what was it we were saying about one of us being evil…?" He stroked his thumb up the underside of his cock, rubbing the spot just under the head until Chris shook with the way pleasure tingled up his spine, one steady, relentless wave of it. "I think it was that I'm supposed to be the one who's evil, right…?"

Chris reached down to him and cupped Kazuya's face between his palms. "Kazuya, shut up and blow me."

Kazuya laughed softly. "Yes, senpai," he lilted as he let Chris draw him down over his lap. He opened his mouth and guided Chris between his lips; Chris groaned with the rush of sensation, hot-soft-wet, and the way Kazuya's eyes gleamed up at him from behind the lenses of his glasses.

Kazuya played his tongue against him, deliberate, and kept going when Chris would not have pushed him any further—sliding his mouth down his cock, swallowing him down until he'd buried his face in Chris' lap and Chris was gasping from the way Kazuya's throat worked around the head of his cock. "Jesus, Kazuya…" When he shifted his hands, meaning to give Kazuya the lead, Kazuya caught his wrist and guided it to the back of his head. Chris had to smile, even with the way response surged through him—trust Kazuya to find his own way of getting what he wanted it.

He curved his palm around the back of Kazuya's head, throat already dry with panting, and groaned when Kazuya lifted up—not too far—and shifted a hand to Chris' hip to pluck at it. Response washed through him again, urgent, and he answered Kazuya's cue, lifting his hips up and sliding his cock between Kazuya's lips, holding him for it, and Kazuya hummed, the satisfied sound working his throat muscles around Chris' cock.

Chris groaned his name as he slid his fingers into Kazuya's hair, holding him as he fucked Kazuya's throat in short, urgent thrusts and pleasure rippled through him, waves of it that were already rising hot and fast, threatening to draw him down even though he was hardly ready to let go so soon. Kazuya didn't seem inclined to give him any choice about it; he hummed again, throat vibrating with the husky sound. Chris shook with the way that made sensation roll through him from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head, pleasure swelling like a wave about to break. He groaned Kazuya's name, meaning it as a sort of warning, however incoherent, and groaned again as Kazuya dragged his mouth up the length of his cock, unbearably slow, and hollowed his cheeks as he sucked at the head. The wave of pleasure crested; Chris gasped as the first rush of it swept down over him, knocking the breath out of him and leaving him with no way to express himself when Kazuya pulled back to let Chris come on his face, streaking over his lips and cheeks and chin. The sight of that alone was enough to send another wave of heat rolling over him, the spasm of it wringing him out relentlessly and dragging a ragged sound out of him as he came over the smug curl of Kazuya's smile.

Chris sagged against his chair, shaking as he sucked in a ragged breath, mind washed blank of everything but the glow of pleasure and the way Kazuya looked, kneeling between his knees, bare-chested and splattered with come—Jesus, there was even flecks of it on the lenses of his glasses. "Jesus fucking Christ, Kazuya," he said, hoarse.

Kazuya smiled and poked the tip of his tongue out, licking at the swollen curve of his lips. "I think I'm going to remember that, too." Chris shuddered just at the thought. Kazuya grinned and settled back on his heels, lifting the hem of his skirt and using it to wipe his face, apparently not at all concerned that he was staining it.

Chris watched him remove his glasses and begin cleaning them, too, and slowly the power of rational thought began to return to him. "You're ruining your skirt."

Kazuya didn't even pause as he polished his glasses. "It'll wash. Probably."

That wasn't really what he'd meant; Chris suspected that Kazuya knew it, too. "You're not actually going to leave my room wearing a skirt covered in come, are you?"

Kazuya raised his glasses to the light, squinting at them before returning them to his nose, apparently satisfied. He grinned at Chris. "Why not? You saying you don't like the idea of anyone who meets me knowing just what you've been doing to me?"

"You know better than that," Chris told him, since the thought put a hot feeling back in the pit of his stomach. "Everyone already knows that, it's just better for the club if Coach has plausible deniability."

"Oh, well." Kazuya gave him an airy shrug. "Guess you'll have to give me something to wear, in that case."

The last piece of Kazuya's strategy clicked into place; Chris laughed, more at himself than anything else. "If you just wanted to steal some more of my clothes, all you had to do was ask."

"Don't be silly," Kazuya said. "It doesn't count if your boyfriend gives you his clothes. They have to be stolen." He smiled then, wicked. "But never mind that. I figure that video game tournament ought to last a while longer, don't you? What should we do with ourselves between now and then?"

"Our homework?" Chris suggested even as Kazuya unfolded himself from the floor and rose to lean over him.

"Boring," Kazuya sang as he bent down and kissed him.

Chris tipped his head back and lifted his eyebrows. "Then what do you suggest?"

Kazuya grinned. "I have an idea or two."

"Somehow that doesn't surprise me." He drew Kazuya down for another kiss. "Why don't you tell me about them?" They were bound to make up for homework left unfinished and the plundering of his wardrobe, he figured—and as it turned out, he was not wrong.


As always, comments are lovely!


lysapadin: pen & ink painting of bamboo against a full moon (Default)
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