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Round 5 - Horizontal Tsuke, "Paessaum", Fic (●)
Pseudonym: Horizontal Tsuke
Title: Paessaum
Characters/Pairings: Ko/Waya
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Contains: Rough sex
Summary/Notes: All my thanks go to my team.
Ko Yeong-ha. The very mention of the name in the presence of young Japanese pros excited some and enraged others. He’d taken the world by storm during the Hokuto Cup and wasn’t showing any signs of slowing. Some feared him and others longed to play against him.
Waya, however, fell into the category of none of the above.
Sure, he was mildly indignant on behalf of Shindou, but if he were honest, he’d admit that he was more amused than anything. It was hilarious to see Shindou riled up by someone other than Touya, for once.
So when Ko Yeong-ha walked through the room at the third annual Hokuto Cup, while the other pros parted like the Red Sea, Waya just stood there, casually observing the boy – a man now, really – that had lit a fire under the collective asses of his friends and colleagues.
On the sidelines, Shindou seethed, Touya glared, and Yashiro, who Waya had not managed to usurp the third board from, feigned nonchalance. None of them garnered the attention of cool, calm Ko Yeong-ha for more time than it took to provoke them.
Waya, on the other hand, found himself on the receiving end of an ambiguous smirk. He was leaning against the banquet table, suddenly quite alone as the crowd parted for their revered enemy, the lynx amidst a herd of nervous deer. Without pause, Ko sauntered up to Waya, changing course at the last second to sidle in next to him, grabbing a plate for himself. The table was long and filled to the brim, but instead of moving along it, he pressed himself against Waya, reaching for something behind him.
“Hey, you could ask me to move, you know,” Waya said, raising an eyebrow at Ko.
“I could,” he replied, his accent thick, lacking the markings of native speech, “but what fun would that be?”
Before Waya could formulate a response, Ko had moved on, ever on the prowl; for what, Waya didn’t know.
The next time he saw Ko Yeong-ha, it was after the Korea-Japan match. It was all the patrons of the tournament could speak of, even hours later in the little hotel bar. Of course, Waya couldn’t understand most of them, being they were in Korea, which meant most of the people attending the tournament were Korean. There were a few conversations in Chinese, too, and fewer, but still enough to overhear in Japanese.
Even so, Waya found himself alone at the bar, tired of hearing about the latest match of the century – didn’t they know it’s not the match of the century if they’re just going to pick a new one every year? – and had been pointing at pictures of drinks for the bartender until he hit on one that was non-alcoholic when Ko entered the bar.
Again, Waya found himself nearly pressed against Ko’s side as the taller man leaned in over the counter and said something to the bartender in Korean. He was so close Waya could feel the heat from his skin as he waited until a little blue drink was produced. Then he turned, the same smirk from the day before playing at his lips as he took the barstool next to Waya.
“Here to gloat about your win? Because I assure you, there are better places to do that,” Waya said, sipping at his own red concoction. It was a little sour with just a hint of sweet, and Waya decided that he liked it more than the syrupy sweetness of his usual fare. Whatever this was didn’t leave behind that cloying taste of syrup – he could enjoy the sweetness so much more when it wasn’t overpowering his taste buds.
“Is that so?” Ko said, toying with his drink. “Do you not have pride in your country?”
“Oh, I have plenty of pride in my country,” Waya replied casually, not rising to the bait. “I’m just not all that fond of Touya. It’s nice to see someone our age – who isn’t Shindou – knock him down a peg or two.”
“I see,” Ko murmured, taking another drink of his blue mixture. With deliberate movements, Ko set his unfinished drink on the counter and stood up. “I have a room here in the hotel.”
Waya snorted. “Yeah, I have one, too. Imagine that.”
Ko’s expression didn’t even twitch, frozen in a smirk that was beginning to border on a leer. “Sharing accommodations has its… advantages.”
Waya laughed outright. “Real subtle there. Thanks for the offer and all, but I’m not looking for any ‘advantages’ tonight.”
“Perhaps another night, then.”
Waya shakes his head in disgust. “Or perhaps not. A night of vigorous cardio with a stranger isn’t really my thing.”
“Cardio?” Ko asked, and Waya wondered if he didn’t understand the euphemism, or if he was having trouble translating it into Korean in his head.
“You know, the horizontal mambo. Knocking boots. Bumping uglies. The metaphorical beast with two backs. Not quite leave your money by the door, but damn close.” When Ko just raised an eyebrow at him, he sighed explosively and said, “Sex. With a stranger. I don’t know what you call it here, but I generally just call it being a whore.”
If anything, Ko’s smile widened. “I hear you saying no to a one-night stand,” he replied, his eyes trailing down Waya’s body and back up again, “not to me.” He turned on his heel and left, leaving Waya to stare disgruntledly after him.
---
The next day was some sort of cultural exchange day, not that Waya cared, and once again he found himself leaning against a table watching people mingle. People flocked to Shindou, Touya, and Yashiro, but as Waya was an alternate – the first since they’d changed the rules – and largely unknown, he didn’t get the same attention. Occasionally, someone would come talk to him out of curiosity, but it never lasted long, and that suited Waya just fine.
At least, until his lack of patrons drew the attention of Ko.
Waya gave him a sidelong glance before looking back out into the crowd. “I thought we’d established last night that I wasn’t interested.”
Ko raised an eyebrow. “I have interests that go beyond warming the sheets.”
Waya snorted. “Could have fooled me.”
The corners or Ko’s lips curled upwards. “You must be easily fooled, then.”
Waya turned to glare at him. “What do you want, Ko?”
Ko shrugged. “You looked lonely.”
“I’m not.”
“Enjoy your alone time, then.” Ko prowled off, disappearing into the crowd.
Waya blinked, wondering what that had been about and why the hell Ko was even bothering with him in the first place. He was an alternate, for crying out loud. He wasn’t known, didn’t care, and wasn’t interested. Who the hell did this guy think he was, pestering him?
He scanned the room, watching as Ko slipped seamlessly in and out of the clusters of people, as if he belonged everywhere and nowhere all at once. When Ko locked eyes with him from across the room, Waya scowled, heading back to his room.
He’d be damned if he’d give Ko even a little of whatever it was he was looking for at Waya’s expense.
---
One more day, Waya told himself as the morning dawned bright and early. He groaned, glaring out the window at the Korean sun like it offended him somehow. How did he end up with a window facing the rising sun, anyway? He struggled into his not entirely wrinkle-free suit, slipped his cardkey into his pocket and headed out for a morning filled with playing Go against people he couldn’t understand.
Play A Foreign Pro Day. What a stupid idea.
It was rough figuring out how many stones to place for the people who wandered over to his table, tired of waiting for Touya, or Shindou, or Yashiro, all of whom were well-known and about to be bumped out of the Hokuto Cup age range, and though there were translators wandering around, there rather predictably weren’t enough to go around.
After three seriously pathetic games, Waya was ready to try and beg off, maybe say that he was sick – if he had to play one more clueless old man who didn’t speak a word of Japanese, it would be true enough – when Ko came and sat in the seat across from him.
Despite his previous thoughts, he said, “That seat is reserved for someone who is looking for a tutoring game.”
“So teach me,” Ko replied, amusement plain in his voice. “That is, unless you don’t think you have anything to offer me.”
Waya narrowed his eyes. “Would you like a handicap?”
Ko just smiled, initiating the nigiri.
The game started traditionally enough, but it didn’t take long for Waya to jump right into the fray, making decisive, aggressive moves. Ko fought back almost playfully, using cunning rather than brute strength to dance out of Waya’s reach.
It wasn’t until well into midgame that Waya managed to turn the tables back in his favor, but in the end, he was a step short, losing by a single moku.
Waya lost, but he couldn’t even feel badly about it – even the great Touya Akira had lost to Ko Yeong-ha, and still, he’d managed to come so close.
“That was quite illuminating.” Ko stood, his already impressive height even more pronounced as he looked down at Waya. “I’d be interested in learning much more about you, if you’d be willing to part with your number.”
“What is it with you? I blew you off, remember? Do I need to ask Touya how to tell you to fuck off in Korean, or what?”
“Oh, I understand you perfectly,” Ko returned. “I’m just not listening.”
Waya slapped the lid down on his goke and sighed explosively. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I’m the one who has exactly what you need.”
“Seriously?” But Ko was already moving away, only to stop in front of… Kurata?
“Kurata-san,” Ko greeted, smiling, “Congratulations on Japan’s win against China.”
“Thanks! Congratulations yourself – not many players your age can defeat our Touya Akira.” Kurata laughed heartily, thumping Ko on the shoulder, and Ko’s smile widened.
“I think events like the Hokuto Cup are essential to promote relations between our countries.”
“Oh, absolutely! The institute has been making noise about furthering its efforts to strengthen our international relations, but they’ve been pretty tight-lipped about what exactly they’re planning. I’m looking forward to whatever they come up with, though!”
Ko met Waya’s eyes for a brief second, making sure Waya knew that he knew he could hear every word, and said, loud and clear, “I am hoping to keep in touch with the many pros I have met here, though I am not sure I will have time to get information from everyone. Would you be willing to provide me with contact information for Team Japan?”
A broad smile bloomed on Kurata’s face, completely unaware of the daggers Waya was glaring behind him. “Of course! That’s the spirit I like to see! I’ll get it to you before our flight tonight, okay?”
“That would be perfect,” Ko replied, his smile becoming a cheeky grin.
When Ko was done thanking Kurata and moved to leave, Waya couldn’t help but notice as Ko walked right passed China’s Team Leader without even a passing glance, that bastard.
---
Sweet, sweet Japan. Waya wasn’t quite ready to kiss the ground of his homeland when he’d finally returned, but damn close. He’d expected going to Korea as an alternate to be a little interesting Go-wise, and mostly boring otherwise. He didn’t expect… whatever the hell that had been.
What the fuck was with that guy, anyway?
Whatever, Waya decided to just put the whole damn thing out of his mind. It’s not like it mattered now. What was Ko going to do? Come pester him in Japan?
As it turned out, that’s exactly what he did.
At first, it was just text messages.
I heard you got into the Japanese Honinbou League. Don’t fuck it up.
A dan promotion? Not bad.
You lost to Shindou again. Stop slacking off.
Waya never replied, of course. He was determined not to encourage him, but he found himself thinking about them randomly throughout his day, and eventually, he started to expect them, to anticipate them despite himself.
Then he got one that he had to read several times before he was sure he’d read it absolutely correctly.
The Korea Baduk Association has agreed to participate in a Pro exchange. My flight arrives at Narita, Terminal 1 North, at 1900.
A Pro exchange. How hadn’t he heard about this? Or maybe he had, and just hadn’t cared at the time. He could vaguely recall something about a six month exchange that one of the new Pros was leaving for, but apparently he hadn’t connected the dots.
He was connecting them now, and they led straight to six months of Ko Yeong-ha.
Shit.
---
When his ‘Mario just died’ text tone plays at almost 1900 exactly, Waya ignores it.
Until about 1910.
He picked up his phone, sighing to himself, and flipped it open.
See you at the Ooteai tomorrow.
Waya closes his phone so hard, his limited edition golden Triforce case cracks. Good thing he’d bought more than one.
---
He really was at the Ooteai – not that Waya doubted he would be, exactly, but it took seeing him there, in the flesh, to really make it sink in.
It was only for six months. Just half a year. Waya frowned. No matter what terms he used for it, it still seemed like a damn long time.
“I can’t believe he’s here.” He tore his eyes away from Ko – he wasn’t staring, he really wasn’t – to look at Shindou.
“Believe it, because there he is.”
“Yeah, well…” Shindou apparently was too pissed off for a snappy comeback and just dropped off, turning his glare onto Waya when he laughed at him.
“Deal with it.” He didn’t bother to add the I am that floated across his mind.
Then it was game time and he pushed Ko right out of his head – or at least, he tried to, but with each move, he thought about how Ko would respond. He had to make each stone count, each move had to count for more, and at every turn, his opponent disappointed him. Where he’d expected a uttegaeshi, his opponent used a keima; where he saw potential for a tsuke, he used a hane. In short, it was a total massacre.
When his opponent finally resigned – twenty hands later than he should have – he looked up to find Ko staring down at the board. “What?” he said defensively.
“You were thinking of me.” It was a simple statement, one that held no doubts.
“You’re pretty conceited, aren’t you?”
“It’s not conceit when it’s true.”
Waya stifled the blush trying to poke its way out. “Whatever, I’m out of here,” Waya said, getting up to stamp his win and walking swiftly – he wasn’t fleeing, damn it – out of the room.
Ko, rather predictably, followed him, and Waya found himself in the elevator with him alone.
“What is it with you?”
“You may as well admit that you’re attracted to me. Obviously the feeling is mutual.”
“Yeah, well, what does it matter, anyway?” Waya said, staring resolutely at the buttons and not at Ko. “You don’t exactly exude commitment.”
“You might be surprised.”
Waya shot him a sharp look. “Oh?”
Ko met his gaze head-on. “You know, I have a room for a lot longer than a night this time.”
---
They weren’t even three steps inside of Ko’s apartment before Ko descended on Waya like a large cat capturing its prey, skipping past the simple press of lips and moving straight to sucking Waya’s lower lip into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the flesh before pushing inside, pillaging everything he could, tongue and teeth and cheeks, until Waya had to pull back to breathe. Then they were pressed together again, and Ko was tugging at his own suit jacket, which sparked a kiss, undress, kiss, undress, run into the couch, kiss, knock over a lamp, undress, until they’re inside Ko’s bedroom and Ko was reaching for lube and holy shit, everything was moving so quickly and yet Waya had no desire to slow it down, and that was exhilarating in its own unique way.
Ko apparently didn’t believe in beds, because they bypassed it all together in favor of the cold, hard wall, Waya’s erection grinding almost painfully into it as Ko threaded his fingers through Waya’s hair and wrenched his head back to bite and suck at his neck, his other hand sliding down over his ass, grasping firmly before continuing its mission to push Waya’s thighs open for him. The crazy bastard had already applied the lube, which meant in addition to the undoubtedly long line of red and purple marks forming from Waya’s jawline down to his collarbone there’s lube in his hair, but he didn’t have time to even start to get worked up about it because, oh god, the tip of Ko’s cock was pushing into him just like that, and it’s not like Waya was a total virgin or anything, but the sudden flash of pain and pleasure on top of the teeth dragging over his skin and the slow burn of hair pulled just a little too tight almost brought him to his knees.
Not that Ko would let him fall, as his now free hand was digging into his hipbone and pulling him back, back, back, until Waya was completely impaled by him, his hands scrabbling for purchase on the wall as Ko dragged them back further until the only part of his body left to brace himself was his forearms. They pressed against the wall, the cool surface a dizzying contrast to the heat flooding through him.
Ko let go of Waya’s hair and his hip and ran his fingers down Waya’s arms to thread them between Waya’s own, which was almost sweet until he rolled his hips, Waya’s head tapping against the wall. Waya groaned, and Ko leaned forward enough to press his chest against Waya’s back, holding him there, thrusting a little harder. Tap, tap, tap – Waya had never felt anything like it before; and he was shocked that he wanted more, that he was leaning into the wall with each push of Ko’s hips until it was less of a tap and more of a knock, knock, knock, pushing back into Ko only to be propelled forward again.
Just as Waya started to wonder if he might end up with a concussion – not that he’d stop, not with how all of his nerves electrified with each knock of his head – Ko pushed him flush against the wall, doing his best to fuck him clear through it, Waya’s cock throbbing almost painfully with each grind into the cool surface, he breath coming in hitching gasps, Ko biting at his earlobe, pounding into him until it was all too much, and Waya was coming hard, harder than he ever had in his life, Ko not even bothering to slow down as his come splattered against the wall, the now slick surface making it easy for Ko to slide him up and down it as he fucked him harder than ever, grunting as Waya’s muscles clenched around him.
Ko continued to move, kept him pinned to the wall, his hands moving to lock his hips in a crushing grip, lifting Waya higher so that his own body weight served to impale him deeper, over and over until Waya thought he might pass out from a pleasure so intense it hurt. Finally, Ko was coming, his movements jerky and uncontained, and when he stopped, when the rushing sound in Waya’s ears dulled, the first thing Waya was aware of was-
“What the hell is going on in there? Some people have work in the morning, you know!”
“Okay, so I might only have this room for a night, but I’ll get another one.”
A laugh that Waya wouldn’t have thought he’d had the energy for burst out of him. “You might want to make sure the next one doesn’t have any neighbors.”
Ko grinned, letting them fall to the floor in a tangle of limbs. “I’ll see what I can do.”
While whatever they were doing sure as hell wasn’t saccharine, Waya thought it might just be a pretty sweet deal after all.
Go to opponent's entry: Round 5 - Ash Landers, "Cybersex", Fic (○)
Go to vote: Fandom Triforce vs. The White Suit Society - First Board Match
Title: Paessaum
Characters/Pairings: Ko/Waya
Rating: NC-17
Warnings/Contains: Rough sex
Summary/Notes: All my thanks go to my team.
Ko Yeong-ha. The very mention of the name in the presence of young Japanese pros excited some and enraged others. He’d taken the world by storm during the Hokuto Cup and wasn’t showing any signs of slowing. Some feared him and others longed to play against him.
Waya, however, fell into the category of none of the above.
Sure, he was mildly indignant on behalf of Shindou, but if he were honest, he’d admit that he was more amused than anything. It was hilarious to see Shindou riled up by someone other than Touya, for once.
So when Ko Yeong-ha walked through the room at the third annual Hokuto Cup, while the other pros parted like the Red Sea, Waya just stood there, casually observing the boy – a man now, really – that had lit a fire under the collective asses of his friends and colleagues.
On the sidelines, Shindou seethed, Touya glared, and Yashiro, who Waya had not managed to usurp the third board from, feigned nonchalance. None of them garnered the attention of cool, calm Ko Yeong-ha for more time than it took to provoke them.
Waya, on the other hand, found himself on the receiving end of an ambiguous smirk. He was leaning against the banquet table, suddenly quite alone as the crowd parted for their revered enemy, the lynx amidst a herd of nervous deer. Without pause, Ko sauntered up to Waya, changing course at the last second to sidle in next to him, grabbing a plate for himself. The table was long and filled to the brim, but instead of moving along it, he pressed himself against Waya, reaching for something behind him.
“Hey, you could ask me to move, you know,” Waya said, raising an eyebrow at Ko.
“I could,” he replied, his accent thick, lacking the markings of native speech, “but what fun would that be?”
Before Waya could formulate a response, Ko had moved on, ever on the prowl; for what, Waya didn’t know.
The next time he saw Ko Yeong-ha, it was after the Korea-Japan match. It was all the patrons of the tournament could speak of, even hours later in the little hotel bar. Of course, Waya couldn’t understand most of them, being they were in Korea, which meant most of the people attending the tournament were Korean. There were a few conversations in Chinese, too, and fewer, but still enough to overhear in Japanese.
Even so, Waya found himself alone at the bar, tired of hearing about the latest match of the century – didn’t they know it’s not the match of the century if they’re just going to pick a new one every year? – and had been pointing at pictures of drinks for the bartender until he hit on one that was non-alcoholic when Ko entered the bar.
Again, Waya found himself nearly pressed against Ko’s side as the taller man leaned in over the counter and said something to the bartender in Korean. He was so close Waya could feel the heat from his skin as he waited until a little blue drink was produced. Then he turned, the same smirk from the day before playing at his lips as he took the barstool next to Waya.
“Here to gloat about your win? Because I assure you, there are better places to do that,” Waya said, sipping at his own red concoction. It was a little sour with just a hint of sweet, and Waya decided that he liked it more than the syrupy sweetness of his usual fare. Whatever this was didn’t leave behind that cloying taste of syrup – he could enjoy the sweetness so much more when it wasn’t overpowering his taste buds.
“Is that so?” Ko said, toying with his drink. “Do you not have pride in your country?”
“Oh, I have plenty of pride in my country,” Waya replied casually, not rising to the bait. “I’m just not all that fond of Touya. It’s nice to see someone our age – who isn’t Shindou – knock him down a peg or two.”
“I see,” Ko murmured, taking another drink of his blue mixture. With deliberate movements, Ko set his unfinished drink on the counter and stood up. “I have a room here in the hotel.”
Waya snorted. “Yeah, I have one, too. Imagine that.”
Ko’s expression didn’t even twitch, frozen in a smirk that was beginning to border on a leer. “Sharing accommodations has its… advantages.”
Waya laughed outright. “Real subtle there. Thanks for the offer and all, but I’m not looking for any ‘advantages’ tonight.”
“Perhaps another night, then.”
Waya shakes his head in disgust. “Or perhaps not. A night of vigorous cardio with a stranger isn’t really my thing.”
“Cardio?” Ko asked, and Waya wondered if he didn’t understand the euphemism, or if he was having trouble translating it into Korean in his head.
“You know, the horizontal mambo. Knocking boots. Bumping uglies. The metaphorical beast with two backs. Not quite leave your money by the door, but damn close.” When Ko just raised an eyebrow at him, he sighed explosively and said, “Sex. With a stranger. I don’t know what you call it here, but I generally just call it being a whore.”
If anything, Ko’s smile widened. “I hear you saying no to a one-night stand,” he replied, his eyes trailing down Waya’s body and back up again, “not to me.” He turned on his heel and left, leaving Waya to stare disgruntledly after him.
---
The next day was some sort of cultural exchange day, not that Waya cared, and once again he found himself leaning against a table watching people mingle. People flocked to Shindou, Touya, and Yashiro, but as Waya was an alternate – the first since they’d changed the rules – and largely unknown, he didn’t get the same attention. Occasionally, someone would come talk to him out of curiosity, but it never lasted long, and that suited Waya just fine.
At least, until his lack of patrons drew the attention of Ko.
Waya gave him a sidelong glance before looking back out into the crowd. “I thought we’d established last night that I wasn’t interested.”
Ko raised an eyebrow. “I have interests that go beyond warming the sheets.”
Waya snorted. “Could have fooled me.”
The corners or Ko’s lips curled upwards. “You must be easily fooled, then.”
Waya turned to glare at him. “What do you want, Ko?”
Ko shrugged. “You looked lonely.”
“I’m not.”
“Enjoy your alone time, then.” Ko prowled off, disappearing into the crowd.
Waya blinked, wondering what that had been about and why the hell Ko was even bothering with him in the first place. He was an alternate, for crying out loud. He wasn’t known, didn’t care, and wasn’t interested. Who the hell did this guy think he was, pestering him?
He scanned the room, watching as Ko slipped seamlessly in and out of the clusters of people, as if he belonged everywhere and nowhere all at once. When Ko locked eyes with him from across the room, Waya scowled, heading back to his room.
He’d be damned if he’d give Ko even a little of whatever it was he was looking for at Waya’s expense.
---
One more day, Waya told himself as the morning dawned bright and early. He groaned, glaring out the window at the Korean sun like it offended him somehow. How did he end up with a window facing the rising sun, anyway? He struggled into his not entirely wrinkle-free suit, slipped his cardkey into his pocket and headed out for a morning filled with playing Go against people he couldn’t understand.
Play A Foreign Pro Day. What a stupid idea.
It was rough figuring out how many stones to place for the people who wandered over to his table, tired of waiting for Touya, or Shindou, or Yashiro, all of whom were well-known and about to be bumped out of the Hokuto Cup age range, and though there were translators wandering around, there rather predictably weren’t enough to go around.
After three seriously pathetic games, Waya was ready to try and beg off, maybe say that he was sick – if he had to play one more clueless old man who didn’t speak a word of Japanese, it would be true enough – when Ko came and sat in the seat across from him.
Despite his previous thoughts, he said, “That seat is reserved for someone who is looking for a tutoring game.”
“So teach me,” Ko replied, amusement plain in his voice. “That is, unless you don’t think you have anything to offer me.”
Waya narrowed his eyes. “Would you like a handicap?”
Ko just smiled, initiating the nigiri.
The game started traditionally enough, but it didn’t take long for Waya to jump right into the fray, making decisive, aggressive moves. Ko fought back almost playfully, using cunning rather than brute strength to dance out of Waya’s reach.
It wasn’t until well into midgame that Waya managed to turn the tables back in his favor, but in the end, he was a step short, losing by a single moku.
Waya lost, but he couldn’t even feel badly about it – even the great Touya Akira had lost to Ko Yeong-ha, and still, he’d managed to come so close.
“That was quite illuminating.” Ko stood, his already impressive height even more pronounced as he looked down at Waya. “I’d be interested in learning much more about you, if you’d be willing to part with your number.”
“What is it with you? I blew you off, remember? Do I need to ask Touya how to tell you to fuck off in Korean, or what?”
“Oh, I understand you perfectly,” Ko returned. “I’m just not listening.”
Waya slapped the lid down on his goke and sighed explosively. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I’m the one who has exactly what you need.”
“Seriously?” But Ko was already moving away, only to stop in front of… Kurata?
“Kurata-san,” Ko greeted, smiling, “Congratulations on Japan’s win against China.”
“Thanks! Congratulations yourself – not many players your age can defeat our Touya Akira.” Kurata laughed heartily, thumping Ko on the shoulder, and Ko’s smile widened.
“I think events like the Hokuto Cup are essential to promote relations between our countries.”
“Oh, absolutely! The institute has been making noise about furthering its efforts to strengthen our international relations, but they’ve been pretty tight-lipped about what exactly they’re planning. I’m looking forward to whatever they come up with, though!”
Ko met Waya’s eyes for a brief second, making sure Waya knew that he knew he could hear every word, and said, loud and clear, “I am hoping to keep in touch with the many pros I have met here, though I am not sure I will have time to get information from everyone. Would you be willing to provide me with contact information for Team Japan?”
A broad smile bloomed on Kurata’s face, completely unaware of the daggers Waya was glaring behind him. “Of course! That’s the spirit I like to see! I’ll get it to you before our flight tonight, okay?”
“That would be perfect,” Ko replied, his smile becoming a cheeky grin.
When Ko was done thanking Kurata and moved to leave, Waya couldn’t help but notice as Ko walked right passed China’s Team Leader without even a passing glance, that bastard.
---
Sweet, sweet Japan. Waya wasn’t quite ready to kiss the ground of his homeland when he’d finally returned, but damn close. He’d expected going to Korea as an alternate to be a little interesting Go-wise, and mostly boring otherwise. He didn’t expect… whatever the hell that had been.
What the fuck was with that guy, anyway?
Whatever, Waya decided to just put the whole damn thing out of his mind. It’s not like it mattered now. What was Ko going to do? Come pester him in Japan?
As it turned out, that’s exactly what he did.
At first, it was just text messages.
I heard you got into the Japanese Honinbou League. Don’t fuck it up.
A dan promotion? Not bad.
You lost to Shindou again. Stop slacking off.
Waya never replied, of course. He was determined not to encourage him, but he found himself thinking about them randomly throughout his day, and eventually, he started to expect them, to anticipate them despite himself.
Then he got one that he had to read several times before he was sure he’d read it absolutely correctly.
The Korea Baduk Association has agreed to participate in a Pro exchange. My flight arrives at Narita, Terminal 1 North, at 1900.
A Pro exchange. How hadn’t he heard about this? Or maybe he had, and just hadn’t cared at the time. He could vaguely recall something about a six month exchange that one of the new Pros was leaving for, but apparently he hadn’t connected the dots.
He was connecting them now, and they led straight to six months of Ko Yeong-ha.
Shit.
---
When his ‘Mario just died’ text tone plays at almost 1900 exactly, Waya ignores it.
Until about 1910.
He picked up his phone, sighing to himself, and flipped it open.
See you at the Ooteai tomorrow.
Waya closes his phone so hard, his limited edition golden Triforce case cracks. Good thing he’d bought more than one.
---
He really was at the Ooteai – not that Waya doubted he would be, exactly, but it took seeing him there, in the flesh, to really make it sink in.
It was only for six months. Just half a year. Waya frowned. No matter what terms he used for it, it still seemed like a damn long time.
“I can’t believe he’s here.” He tore his eyes away from Ko – he wasn’t staring, he really wasn’t – to look at Shindou.
“Believe it, because there he is.”
“Yeah, well…” Shindou apparently was too pissed off for a snappy comeback and just dropped off, turning his glare onto Waya when he laughed at him.
“Deal with it.” He didn’t bother to add the I am that floated across his mind.
Then it was game time and he pushed Ko right out of his head – or at least, he tried to, but with each move, he thought about how Ko would respond. He had to make each stone count, each move had to count for more, and at every turn, his opponent disappointed him. Where he’d expected a uttegaeshi, his opponent used a keima; where he saw potential for a tsuke, he used a hane. In short, it was a total massacre.
When his opponent finally resigned – twenty hands later than he should have – he looked up to find Ko staring down at the board. “What?” he said defensively.
“You were thinking of me.” It was a simple statement, one that held no doubts.
“You’re pretty conceited, aren’t you?”
“It’s not conceit when it’s true.”
Waya stifled the blush trying to poke its way out. “Whatever, I’m out of here,” Waya said, getting up to stamp his win and walking swiftly – he wasn’t fleeing, damn it – out of the room.
Ko, rather predictably, followed him, and Waya found himself in the elevator with him alone.
“What is it with you?”
“You may as well admit that you’re attracted to me. Obviously the feeling is mutual.”
“Yeah, well, what does it matter, anyway?” Waya said, staring resolutely at the buttons and not at Ko. “You don’t exactly exude commitment.”
“You might be surprised.”
Waya shot him a sharp look. “Oh?”
Ko met his gaze head-on. “You know, I have a room for a lot longer than a night this time.”
---
They weren’t even three steps inside of Ko’s apartment before Ko descended on Waya like a large cat capturing its prey, skipping past the simple press of lips and moving straight to sucking Waya’s lower lip into his mouth, rolling his tongue over the flesh before pushing inside, pillaging everything he could, tongue and teeth and cheeks, until Waya had to pull back to breathe. Then they were pressed together again, and Ko was tugging at his own suit jacket, which sparked a kiss, undress, kiss, undress, run into the couch, kiss, knock over a lamp, undress, until they’re inside Ko’s bedroom and Ko was reaching for lube and holy shit, everything was moving so quickly and yet Waya had no desire to slow it down, and that was exhilarating in its own unique way.
Ko apparently didn’t believe in beds, because they bypassed it all together in favor of the cold, hard wall, Waya’s erection grinding almost painfully into it as Ko threaded his fingers through Waya’s hair and wrenched his head back to bite and suck at his neck, his other hand sliding down over his ass, grasping firmly before continuing its mission to push Waya’s thighs open for him. The crazy bastard had already applied the lube, which meant in addition to the undoubtedly long line of red and purple marks forming from Waya’s jawline down to his collarbone there’s lube in his hair, but he didn’t have time to even start to get worked up about it because, oh god, the tip of Ko’s cock was pushing into him just like that, and it’s not like Waya was a total virgin or anything, but the sudden flash of pain and pleasure on top of the teeth dragging over his skin and the slow burn of hair pulled just a little too tight almost brought him to his knees.
Not that Ko would let him fall, as his now free hand was digging into his hipbone and pulling him back, back, back, until Waya was completely impaled by him, his hands scrabbling for purchase on the wall as Ko dragged them back further until the only part of his body left to brace himself was his forearms. They pressed against the wall, the cool surface a dizzying contrast to the heat flooding through him.
Ko let go of Waya’s hair and his hip and ran his fingers down Waya’s arms to thread them between Waya’s own, which was almost sweet until he rolled his hips, Waya’s head tapping against the wall. Waya groaned, and Ko leaned forward enough to press his chest against Waya’s back, holding him there, thrusting a little harder. Tap, tap, tap – Waya had never felt anything like it before; and he was shocked that he wanted more, that he was leaning into the wall with each push of Ko’s hips until it was less of a tap and more of a knock, knock, knock, pushing back into Ko only to be propelled forward again.
Just as Waya started to wonder if he might end up with a concussion – not that he’d stop, not with how all of his nerves electrified with each knock of his head – Ko pushed him flush against the wall, doing his best to fuck him clear through it, Waya’s cock throbbing almost painfully with each grind into the cool surface, he breath coming in hitching gasps, Ko biting at his earlobe, pounding into him until it was all too much, and Waya was coming hard, harder than he ever had in his life, Ko not even bothering to slow down as his come splattered against the wall, the now slick surface making it easy for Ko to slide him up and down it as he fucked him harder than ever, grunting as Waya’s muscles clenched around him.
Ko continued to move, kept him pinned to the wall, his hands moving to lock his hips in a crushing grip, lifting Waya higher so that his own body weight served to impale him deeper, over and over until Waya thought he might pass out from a pleasure so intense it hurt. Finally, Ko was coming, his movements jerky and uncontained, and when he stopped, when the rushing sound in Waya’s ears dulled, the first thing Waya was aware of was-
“What the hell is going on in there? Some people have work in the morning, you know!”
“Okay, so I might only have this room for a night, but I’ll get another one.”
A laugh that Waya wouldn’t have thought he’d had the energy for burst out of him. “You might want to make sure the next one doesn’t have any neighbors.”
Ko grinned, letting them fall to the floor in a tangle of limbs. “I’ll see what I can do.”
While whatever they were doing sure as hell wasn’t saccharine, Waya thought it might just be a pretty sweet deal after all.
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(Anonymous) 2012-08-17 05:20 pm (UTC)(link)- kakari
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(Anonymous) 2012-08-20 12:25 am (UTC)(link)-akota